had an inkling of what my ulterior motives were, then her amenable mood was a good sign.
A cloud of dust trailed behind us as we approached town, then billowed up to coat the two men on ladders who hoisted the 1941 Mayne Island Fall Fair banner to string it across the road. Chidori and I had both attended every fall fair since we were born. I hoped it wasn’t going to be the last one ever, but the war overseas had already been progressing for two years, with no end in sight. The fall fair tradition would more than likely be suspended once more government rations on staple goods were put in place.
Tosh parked the truck next to the split rail fence that enclosed the area for the farmers’ market, then hopped out of the cab. I jumped off the flatbed and strategically landed right in front of Chidori. Her palm grazed my waist delicately as she manoeuvred around me to lift a crate of tomatoes.
‘Hayden,’ my sister Rosalyn hollered from the porch of the Agricultural Hall. ‘Ma needs your help hauling in the boxes of preserves.’
‘All right. I’ll be right there,’ I shouted as I stacked two vegetable crates and followed Chidori and her brothers to their stand. Their wood setup was one of the bigger ones at the market, constructed like a small shed with angled display shelves along the base of the counter and a shingle shake slanted roof to shade from sun and protect from rain. It stood permanently on the fairgrounds during the growing season, so all they had to do was load up the shelves with the crates or baskets of vegetables and hang the hand-painted Setoguchi Farm sign from the hooks. An instant shop, and they were well known for their quality produce.
‘You should go help your mother,’ Chidori said quietly, not wanting to keep me from what I was supposed to be doing. ‘We can manage from here.’
‘You promise you’ll find me later?’
‘Yes, but if I don’t sell out before you have to leave for the dock, you and I could maybe go for a walk. Together. This afternoon, after the fair.’ She checked my reaction to the invitation briefly, but then, as if she worried she had been too forward, her cheeks blushed and she stepped around me to make another trip to the truck. Her red skirt brushed around her knees and distracted me for a few seconds before I followed after her.
‘Hayden!’ Ma hollered from a window in the Agricultural Hall that overlooked the farmers’ market field. ‘We’re running short on time. I really do need your help with the jars, darling.’
Waving to let her know I was on my way, I trotted after Chidori. The air was fragrant from bushels of lavender, sun-warmed strawberries, and fresh honey that other families displayed at their stands. I dodged a carpenter who carried a chair made of woven cedar branches. I side-stepped between a booth with cinnamon-and-brown-sugar-drizzled baked goods, and a booth with wool-knit baby blankets, then snuck up behind Chidori. She surrendered a smile when I rested my left hand on her waist and leaned over her shoulder to whisper, ‘I accept your invitation for a walk this afternoon, but I’m also really hoping you can find time for at least one dance.’
Her lips pressed together as she pondered. After a worry-rousing hesitation, she said, ‘Maybe. Now, go on and help your mother.’
Satisfied with a maybe, I turned towards the Agricultural Hall with my hands in my pockets and whistled a tune as I swaggered with the confidence of hope and promise.
Rory Bauer and his cousin Fitz stood on the porch, arms crossed in confrontation, to block my way to the door. ‘You didn’t go and get sweet on that Jap girl now, did you?’ Fitz jeered.
Rory chuckled as he lit a cigarette and sat down on a wood-plank bench. They both directed hostile glares at me, waiting for an answer. Not interested in an altercation, I tried to inch past them on the narrow porch. Rory stretched his legs out straight and rested his scuffed boot on the rail.
‘Excuse me, Rory.’
‘Excuse you for what?’ Fitz laughed. ‘Being sweet on a Jap?’
My composure teetered precariously. Chidori didn’t approve of me getting messed up in quarrels, so I checked if she was watching – she was. Instead of confronting the Bauers, I said, ‘Move your ratty feet, Rory, I need to get by.’
Rory stood and blew stale breath and cigarette smoke in my face.
Barely able to contain my temper, I used all of my self-restraint to utter through a tight jaw, ‘Move. My ma’s waiting on me to help her with the displays.’
‘Is your ma a Jap-lover too?’ Fitz asked.
My frame tensed and I inhaled to supress my irritation but fired back, ‘I think you should be more concerned about who your ma’s been loving, Fitz. I heard she’s awful friendly with all the fellas down at the Springwater Lodge.’
‘Shut your filthy mouth,’ Fitz growled.
Rory shoved me in the chest, which launched me against the wood siding. My body made a loud thud and a few people, including my sister, poked their heads out the door to check what the ruckus was about. The only RCMP officer for all the Gulf Islands, Constable Stuart, stepped up onto the porch in his full Red Serge uniform that made him appear seven feet tall. ‘What seems to be the problem, boys?’
‘No problem,’ we all said.
Rory mumbled something I couldn’t quite hear, took another drag from his cigarette, and avoided making eye contact with Constable Stuart. Fitz ran a comb through his overly Brylcreemed hair and shot a greasy wink at Rosalyn, which didn’t impress her in the slightest. Constable Stuart, who must have been stifling in his wool serge, used a hankie to wipe the sweat from the back of his neck and eyeballed us until Rory eventually walked away. Fitz followed. Constable Stuart directed his attention to me. I swallowed hard and focused on his bushy moustache as I waited for him to speak. ‘What was that skirmish all about, Hayden?’
‘Nothing I can’t handle, sir.’
He frowned for a good while before nodding in a cautionary way. ‘Let’s hope so.’ With the tip of his brown felt hat he stepped off the porch and crossed the street to give heck to a boy who wasn’t paying attention to his tethered goat as it chewed up the siding on the two-cell jailhouse.
I glanced across the fairgrounds at Chidori long enough to see the apprehension in her eyes about Rory and Fitz. Then I ducked inside to help my mother.
The sortie went exactly as planned. The Typhoon bombers we escorted hit all the railway targets and headed back to the airfield to rearm. Gordie and I flew another pass over the Italian foothills and farmers’ fields to conduct reconnaissance. We were always on the lookout for aerodromes that had a large collection of enemy flying machines. Sending bombers in to wipe them all out on the ground was easier than fighting them in the air. Nothing much was going on, though, so we turned to head back to base.
Fifteen minutes out from our landing strip a solo Junkers flew low beneath me – a common decoy of the German Luftwaffe air force. They often sent in a solo airplane to draw us down while hiding their fighter pilots up higher. I didn’t take the bait. Instead, I scanned the airspace above me. Six enemy aircraft were indeed flying above in loose formation. I called Gordie on the RT, but he didn’t confirm receipt so must have had the receiver flipped to transmit. Fortunately, he noticed me tip my wings as a signal and he spotted them too. We split up and I headed for cloud cover. My Spitfire was faster than the Messerschmitts the German fighters flew, so I was confident I could outrun them. But my sureness that we could escape without a battle waned when I emerged from the cloud cover.
Gordie’s airplane was being attacked by two Italian Macchi aircraft. Normally, flying machines from the Italian Regia Aeronautical would be poorly matched against us, but if the squadron of Luftwaffe above backed the Italians up, we were dangerously outnumbered. I feverishly tapped the thumb lever to flash my lights in a Morse code, hoping some friendlies were close enough to see it, then I banked and doubled back to chase behind a machine that was firing on Gordie.
My