The Legends of Lake on the Mountain (14 page)

Chapter 26

The Truth of it All

With both hands on the thick, wooden handle, John heaved the largest suitcase in front of him towards the bay where Cornelius would arrive this morning. George trailed with a smaller piece of luggage. Both contained John's life in Kingston, until he would return again next year. The last couple of days had gone by quickly.

“You're sure you're okay with me keeping the letter?” asked John as they stumbled along.

“Oui, I am sure. Besides, it will help your French,” said George and grinned. “Guess what? Father tells me I might be able to visit you in Kingston, if we go this fall for supplies. We can look for serpents in Lake Ontario.”

John stopped and set the suitcase down so he could hit George in the arm. “Oww!”

“Don't even think about it,” said John. As he continued walking, John looked down the strip of sand and water of the Bay of Quinte. To think that the French admiral had died here only a few feet away from where they stood captivated John. He looked down the edge of the bay and pictured the dying admiral reaching out and stuffing the rough sketch of map into the hands of the only person he could see. And to think that same young person was Jeremiah Thacker, now an old man, gave John a chill.

“Great,” said George, glancing over his shoulder. “Here comes your little sister again. Why does she always have to mess up my hair?”

“Like Moll said, she likes you,” said John, laughing.

“Mon dieu,” muttered George. He avoided Lou by speeding ahead to chat with Solomon Brook.

“Are you sad, John?” asked Lou, as she and Moll caught up with John.

“Some,” said John. “Kingston's always a great adventure too – even with school. But I'll miss you all, that's for sure.”

“John?” said Lou.

“Yes?”

“Thank you for coming to get me out on the lake.”

“You're welcome Lou – you already thanked me you know.”

She shrugged. “I know.” She took off to chase George.

Nearly at the shore, John gratefully set the oversized suitcase down and then sat on it. Its hard wooden sides easily accommodated his tall, lean frame. Moll joined him. She gave her brother a quick hug around his shoulder.

“Moll?”

“Hmm.”

“Remember when we were playing chess a few days ago?”

“Yes.”

“And you said I'm the only one carrying James inside of me with that memory – because I was the only one there?” She nodded.

“I don't want that to be the only thought I have of James.”

“I don't blame you.”

“When I let go of that memory – even a bit – I start to remember other things about him. Better things.” Moll hugged him again and John could see her pale skin was blotched with pink. “You'll write?” Moll asked. “Of course.”

“You'll get better at chess?” John shoved her a little and she laughed.

“In chess, the colonel shows no mercy,” said John. “Every game is like reliving a war for him. Guess I'll have to get better if I want to win any matches at all.” He squinted toward the bay. “Well, there's Cornelius.”

The long, slender
Morning Bloom
glided to shore and John could see the blonde, unkempt hair of Cornelius blowing in the breeze. John noticed Solomon Brook making his way over, too.

“Where's Mother – and Father?” John asked Moll.

“They're coming,” said Moll. “Mother's packing you and Cornelius something to eat. She'll bring Father down from the mill.”

A moment later they saw their mother exit the house with a basket and then enter the flour mill. Hugh brushed off flour from his pants as he walked beside Helen toward the shoreline. Cornelius was just loosely tying the bateau, when they arrived to where John and Moll were sitting.

The bateau operator quickly began loading other cargo that farmers and traders had brought this morning while the Macdonald's said their goodbyes.

“So this is it again?” asked Hugh, smiling. “Stay well, son.” He offered his hand and John shook it. His father gave him half of an uncertain hug. “I can't stay long – got to get back to the mill with business picking up.”

“It's great that it's getting busy, again, Father,” said John, watching another wagon pull up. “Stay well, too.” Helen asked four or five rapid questions – John lost count – about everything that he had packed. Once she was satisfied, she hugged him tightly. “You concentrate on your school work, you hear?”

“Yes, Mother.”

She grabbed him gently by the arm and steered him off to one side.
Oh no. ow what?

“The last time your father was in Kingston he stopped in to chat with George Mackenzie.”

“The lawyer?” asked John.

“That's right. He's a young one, but a real up-andcomer. He told your father if your marks are good you could start working with him when you turn fifteen.”

John smiled and glanced at the others. “Are you serious, Mother? Really?”

“Yes, really. Now listen, the family's depending on you, John. You might not realize it yet, but we'll need you. This is an important path for you.” She grabbed John's curly head and kissed him on the cheek and then handed him the food basket. “You'll share with Cornelius?”

“Of course.”

Cornelius overheard this part and tipped an imaginary hat toward Helen in thanks. Then he lugged the two suitcases on board and stored them with other cargo.

“Careful, lad!” said Solomon. “That first suitcase alone will likely sink that thing long before Kingston.”

“Only if you're coming along with it,” said Cornelius. Solomon laughed while his large belly shook.

After a few more brief hugs and warm wishes from everyone John boarded the bateau and Cornelius gently eased the boat out into the Bay of Quinte. John stood at the bow and waved.

As his family and friends grew smaller, he thought about how his future was growing in ways he could not have imagined at the start of summer. In only a year and a half he could be working as an apprenticing lawyer in Kingston. It was hard to feel the exact shape of his future – but maybe this was the right place to start.

John sat back against his luggage and listened to the water beneath them. He gazed at the cornflower blue of the sky creeping by, content with the gentle sounds of the lake beneath them. Cornelius was in a quiet mood and that suited John fine.

His gaze shifted to the brooding pine trees on his left. The bateau moved forward and then past a stretch of open sand fifteen miles east of Stone Mills. He squinted at the shore and saw a small cooking fire. An old man with a long, grey beard was stirring something in a metal pot over the fire.
Jeremiah Thacker!

“Cornelius, can we please stop there, near that man,” said John, pointing to the figure on the sand. “Please, it's very important – I can't really explain quickly. You don't even have to tie up the boat.”

Cornelius pulled out a bronze pocket watch. “Ten minutes, John. That's it.”

John waved to Jeremiah Thacker from the bateau. The old man waved back, uncertainly. Cornelius moved closer to the shoreline and John rolled his pant legs above his knees. Then he grabbed a long crust of bread from the food basket and stuffed it inside one of his vest pockets. The other pocket contained the letter written by Admiral Fortin sixty-nine years ago – the same man who had thrust the letter into a young Jeremiah Thacker's hand when he was a young boy.

When the water was suitably shallow, John jumped over the side and landed on his bare feet. He ran to shore while Cornelius held the bateau steady. As he sloshed onto the shore, Jeremiah met him half way. John couldn't wait to tell him they had solved the location of the treasure map in less than two weeks.
He's going to be so excited.

“Well good day, young man. Been thinkin' about you. Headin' off to Kingston?”

“Yes, sir…I have to resume my schooling.”

“The bay's been busy,” said Jeremiah, “what with all that serpent nonsense. Ran into a farmer yesterday who told me ‘bout the American soldiers. Fact is, he heard it was you who played a big part in that.”

John smiled and nodded. He thought he was going to burst if he didn't tell the old man the news about the hidden cave.

“Well, good for you,” said Jeremiah. “Come and sit down on old Jeremiah's driftwood for a minute.” They both sat down on the old partial tree that had washed ashore.

“Say, do you have time for a little muskrat soup while you're here? Might be a little thin this time – it's the second time I've used the bones.”

John's stomach heaved. “Thank you, but I have to be getting back with Cornelius,” said John, gesturing to the bateau. “Mr. Thacker, I just –”

“Listen, before you say anythin' I want to apologize,” said Jeremiah. “It was unfair for me to do that to you, givin' you that map and all. I meant well – but expectin' a few young ones to find something that took up my entire life, well…that wasn't a nice thing for me to do.”

“But Mr. Thacker we actually – ”

“And then I got to thinkin,' you know what might even be worse?” John shook his head.

“What if you were able to find it quickly – what kind of a feeble brain would I be then, huh?” He laughed and shook his head. John winced.

“And who knows – what if there was no treasure at all?” the old man continued. “After all this time of nothin' but thinkin' about it! What if there was no treasure to be found?”

John laughed uneasily and stared at his feet. Jeremiah picked up a stick and poked at his fire. “Some days I think I might have imagined that French admiral who died in front of me. Sure, I had the map. So he must have been real. But some days, he just didn't seem real enough to me.”

The old man turned and looked off toward Stone Mills. John felt the crinkle of the letter in his vest pocket, written by Admiral Fortin long ago.

“Now what was it you wanted to tell me, young man? Don't tell me you found the treasure already.” Jeremiah laughed and John laughed with him.

Then John reached into his inside vest pocket and hesitated. He pulled out the crust of bread.

“No, sir – we've no idea about that map. I just wanted to give you this. I wasn't sure how much luck you might have had in getting by lately.”

The old man took the bread and smiled through his missing teeth. He put a kind hand on John's shoulder and they both stood. The grey-bearded man hugged John. “You're a good lad, you are. Kingston's a lucky town to have you.”

“Thank you, sir.” John trudged back through the water to the boat and Cornelius extended his hand to help him back on board.

“What was that all about?” Cornelius asked. John watched the old man eating as he waved from the shore. “Cornelius, what's more important – doing the right thing or telling the truth?”

The boatman thought about it for a moment as he aimed the bateau's nose for Kingston. “Maybe doing the right thing has its own truth.”

John nodded as they watched the morning unfold.

Wilfrid LAURIER
on the death of Sir John A. Macdonald

“...the place of Sir John Macdonald in this country was so large and so absorbing that it is almost impossible to conceive that the political life of this country, the fate of this country, can continue without him. His loss overwhelms us. For my part, I say with all truth his loss overwhelms me...as if indeed one of the institutions of the land had given way. Sir John Macdonald now belongs to the ages, and it can be said with certainty that the career which has just been closed is one of the most remarkable careers of this century ... As to his statesmanship, it is written in the history of Canada. It may be said without any exaggeration whatever, that the life of Sir John Macdonald, from the time he entered Parliament, is the history of Canada...”

About the AUTHOR

Roderick Benns was the odd kid in class who had memorized all of the prime ministers in order. Born in Peterborough, Ontario and raised in nearby Lindsay, he has enjoyed a varied writing career spanning more than twenty years, with newspapers, magazines, Internet news sites and radio.

An award-winning journalist, Roderick captured a first place national newspaper award in the 1990s for journalistic initiative through the CCNA.

As owner of Fireside Publishing House, Roderick chose to kick-start the Leaders & Legacies Series with its first two books – the award-winning Mystery of the Moonlight Murder:
An Early Adventure of John Diefenbaker
, and The Legends of Lake on the Mountain:
An Early Adventure of John A. Macdonald
.

Roderick is also Senior Writer with the Literacy and Numeracy Secretariat of the Ontario Ministry of Education.

Family life is integral to Roderick. He is married to Joli Scheidler-Benns, who serves as the Leaders & Legacies Series editor. Roderick has two wonderful children, Eric and Alexis. They live in the Greater Toronto Area with their silver toy poodle, Sirius. The family also likes to spend time in the country with their young horse, Gaelin.