Gus enlists

I loved getting to know Gus, though my picture of him changed many times during the various directions this book went. One of the things that readers have said since the book was published was that “I need more Gus”, and to be honest, so did I. The original draft had a lot more of him, and going through these deleted scenes is fun for me.

 

 

“Hey, there’s Gus,” Dash said, a smile in her voice.

Their old friend stood at the end of his father’s yard, hands sunk deep in his trouser pockets as he watched the sisters approach. The rainbow that had greeted them as they left the garage had faded into the mist, leaving a darker sky behind, but even then, Gus’s thick blond hair shone. Dot considered Gus to basically be their brother, having lived most of his life in their house whenever his father was away. Lately she’d missed him, because his father was back, so he’d been spending a lot of time with him. Dot loved Gus for his quick mind and the understated humour he had that most people didn’t understand. She loved him for his kind heart and open mind. And she loved him for keeping her supplied with Agatha Christie novels. She thought that probably Gus alone truly understood her appetite for the books.

“What’s up?” she asked, reading an unusual strain in his face.

Gus’s throat moved as he swallowed, and Dot glanced at her sister, a slither of worry winding through her stomach.

Dash’s concern was clear. “Has something happened?”

He turned away, battling his thoughts. But there was something important on his mind, that was obvious.

“Is your father all right?” Dot asked.

Gus nodded then turned back to the girls. He took a deep breath, then said simply, “I enlisted.”

“Oh, Gus.” Dash sagged gently in place. “Oh no.”

Dot had to tell herself to close her mouth. But of course he had enlisted, she reasoned. What choice did any of them have, she asked herself again. She cleared her throat, hoping that if only she could think through this logically, she wouldn’t give in to the burn of tears in her eyes. And maybe she could help Dash, who kind of looked like a balloon right now. One with all its air gone out.

“Of course you did,” she jumped in, reaching for one of his hands. Everything would be all right if only Dot could protect them both. “The world needs brave men like you. Navy? Army?”

“Army,” he said quietly, holding his other hand toward Dash. “I leave next week to start training.”

Dash made a little gasping sound and took it. “Next week? But that’s so soon.”

“They will be lucky to have you, Gus. Dash and I were just talking about possibly helping the war effort ourselves somehow,” she blathered, hating the stickiness of the air between them. Never mind the most important thing: Gus was going to war. What bothered her the most in that moment was the tension between the three of them, both unfamiliar and uncomfortable. They rarely argued.

She stepped slightly toward Gus, focusing on him, needing to make him look at her, because Dash looked like she might fall apart under his shining blue gaze. Dot couldn’t bear to see Dash crumble.

“I thought maybe Dash could be a driver, and I could do something in an office, typing or something, you know, whatever is of most use …”

But Gus kept looking at Dash. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I finished school. It’s time for me to do my duty.”

Dot squeezed his hand. “We understand.”

Dash shook her head. “No, we don’t.”

Dot was struck by the helplessness on Gus’s face. How was it possible that Dot was the strong one here? That rarely happened.

“You’ll be all right,” she said quietly. “We all will.”

Gus dropped both their hands and enveloped them in a hug. Dot felt his chin press down, just between their heads, right where it had always gone ever since he got tall enough to do that.

“I’m sorry, girls,” he said again. “I will come back as soon as I can.”

*

She’d never admitted to anyone that she actually felt her heart being torn to pieces the next morning as they all waved goodbye to him. Nor would she. But she would never forget, either.

He did write, just as he’d said he would, and his words were friendly and warm and pure Gus, never hinting at what she imagined had gone on between them. He hadn’t mentioned that moment of electricity between them, so Dot had let the memory fade, telling herself she’d been too emotional, and he’d had too much beer.

Or at least she thought she had. Now, by the startling light of the rising sun streaming through the living room window, she read it through again, looking for the puzzle answers as she always did. Every time he wrote, she would listen for his voice in the words, imagine his big fingers on the pen. She would search for what he wasn’t saying, dreaming that maybe he remembered those final moments together as she did, but also hoping he’d hidden the answer she needed in his sentences, like a puzzle. He knew she loved a good mystery.

“Ah,” she said on a sigh. She understood.

This time, she found what she needed. Gus was happy with the Army’s work, drills, and everything else that he had to do there. All that made sense, because what Gus loved most was to feel useful.

And that, Dot realized, was what she was missing. Being of some use. She folded his letter and set it aside, crossed her arms, and considered her entire life. Having more time on her own had given Dot the opportunity to assess who she was as a person, and she had come up disappointed. What did she have in her life? Books. Knitting. Cooking. Shopping on occasion. And little else. Hardly satisfying. Not useful, in the grand scheme of things.

She needed more.