by Wendy V. Smith (January 2011; edited July 2, 2020)
This is a memory of a summer day in Rutherglen…
Dad decided to go across the road into the bush along the Blue Sea Creek to clear some wood.
Wayne and I had been making some extra cash by picking lyco.
“How much, Dad?” asked Wayne downing his orange juice.
“Ten cents a pound. There’s some burlap bags in the granary you can have. But let’s get going. I got a lot of work to do over there.” Burlap bags were large rough scratchy woven bags used to store oats and grain.
“What’s lyco?” I asked.
“They look like little Christmas trees, about this high,” Wayne explained, holding his hand about 5 inches above the table top. “People use them to make Christmas decorations, right Dad?”
“Yep,” Dad agreed.
“And other things,” Mom added. Then she cautioned, “You kids be careful out there and stay away from the creek!”
So with Buster leading the way, Dad with his axe over his shoulder, and Wayne and I each equipped with a burlap bag embarked on the trek to The Bush Across The Road. We made our way from the house to the road, which we crossed into the field to Aunt Liza’s House, an old abandoned log house once owned by Dad’s aunt who died before I was born. Mom and Dad warned many times to never go into that house because it was so old, we might fall through the floors into the dark dirt cellar and would never be heard from again.
From Aunt Liza’s House, we kept going through the field behind, all the way to The Bush Across The Road. Upon entering this huge forest, we could hear the far away shushing of the rapids of The Creek (the Blue Sea Creek). Dad headed off in another direction to where he had been clearing wood the day before.
“Head towards the creek but stay clear of it,” Dad warned and directed, but it was a familiar route for us as we had gone often to fish and explore.
“Come on Buster,” called Wayne as he headed towards the sound of rushing water with me in my familiar spot, right behind him.
It didn’t take long for us to make our way through the forest, over gigantic rocks, down into a gulley, through some thick brush, the sound of the rapids getting closer and closer. Then the sound of Dad’s chainsaw echoed far away.
We spent what seemed like hours picking lyco. As my bag got heavier and fatter, I imaged myself buying bubble gums and blackballs at the Lucky Dollar store with the money I was going to make. The sound of the chain saw was replaced by the chop-chop-chop of Dad’s axe.
Suddenly, loud swear words echoed through the forest – it was Dad shouting so loud, we froze. Then Wayne was already running towards the sound of Dad’s distressing calls and I could hardly keep up.
“WAYNE! WENDY!” he was shouting. We ran with all the strength we could find, not thinking about the bags of precious lyko left behind.
“DADDY! DADDY!” I shouted, feeling panicked and starting to cry. I knew something terrible had happened.
“DAD, WHAT’S WRONG?” Wayne shouted.
“RUN HOME!” Dad shouted unseen from the forest. “GET MA.”
I never heard Dad sound frightened or anxious before. He was a kind, quiet and calm person, so I knew by his voice he was in trouble. As we emerged from The Bush Across The Road into the field, we finally saw Dad hobbling as fast as he could toward home using his axe as a crutch. As I got closer to Dad, I could hear the swishing sound of blood spitting out from a large gash in one of Dad’s rubber boots.
“Hurry home kids. Tell Ma I’ve cut my foot and I need to go to the hospital,” Dad winced as he hobbled as fast as he could.
“Oh Daddy!” I cried even harder.
“Just hurry home kids!” Dad said very calmly. “Hurry and tell Ma to get the car.”
What seemed like a walk from The Bush Across The Road, through the back field, past Aunt Liza’s House, through the front field, to The Gate, up our long driveway to the house – it took forever. My legs and lungs burned like they would give out and Wayne was panting like it was his last breath as they reached the house. Buster had been way ahead of us.
“Ma! Ma!” Wayne shouted as loud as he could.
“Daddy’s been hurt, Ma,” I cried. “He needs to go to the hospital!”
Mom, hearing our calls, ran out of the house and looked down the road and across the field to see Dad still making his way slowly towards home.
“Everyone in the car. Hurry!” shouted Mom as she ran in the house to get her purse. We met Dad just as he reached the road. In the 30 minutes it took to drive to North Bay and to the hospital, Mom and Dad did their best to calm us down. Dad took his boot off and had wrapped his shirt around his foot. The shirt was red with blood. He told Mom that as he had been chopping a piece of wood which slipped and the axe came down, with the full force of his strength onto the side of his foot.
It took 10 stitches to close the gash and the doctor told Dad he had been very lucky.
“You kids will have to go back to The Bush Across The Road to get your bags of lyko,” said Dad at supper that night. “I’ll drive you to the Lucky Dollar tomorrow. They’ll take it there and weigh it.”
“You’re not driving anywhere, Lloyd,” said Mom. “The doctor said for you to stay off of that foot for a few days.”
“Chores can’t wait a couple of days” said Dad.
“Wayne can do the chores that need to be done. Give Emmett a call – he can help. The wood in The Bush Across The Road can wait.”
“Yep, I guess so,” said Dad.
“I’m always warning the kids to be careful,” said Mom to my Dad. “I should have been warning you!”
“Yep, I guess so,” Dad said with a sheepish smile.