Walking With Marvin

“Marvin get back here“.

Storms were typical when you lived on the Atlantic, but the last winter storm was more damaging than most. As kids they were warned to stay away from the coastline all together, but Ava Millerton could never resist walking the ocean floor, neither could Marvin.

Marvin saw to it that each new cave, nook and cranny was re-explored. She’d never met such a mischievous mutt. The boarder collie darted into one of the coastal caves, Ava’s heart sank. The coastline was dangerous and the Atlantic tides could rise faster than they could outrun. Timing was crucial on their morning walks.

A few seconds passed before Marvin zoomed out unscathed, a little wet and slightly green from the algae. He took off down the coastline, barking at a seal who had popped up out of the ocean.

“Marvin! Marvin, come back!”

‘Grandpa's dog is going to be the death of me,’ she thought to herself attempting to run across the uneven ocean floor. A new bed of boulders lay spewed across the beach, sheared off the cliff face in the last storm. The landslide had brought down a pile of rock, dirt and a few trees from the cliffs above, a barrier keeping Ava from catching up to Marvin.

Climbing to the top of the landslide Ava caught a glimpse of the white and black blur racing down the beach.

‘This is bad.’

Yes, Ava tended to be a little more cautious than the your average Scotianer, but playing chicken with the tide was never, ever a good idea. If the tides turned before she could get to Marvin, they would be caught by the tides.

Ava scramble down the boulders towards Marvin, being particularly aware of her footing on the wet rocks then one misstep and she was airborne. Those few seconds seemed to draw out forever yet was just enough to time calculate how painful this landing would be.

Ava would never admit she was knocked cold, but judging by the amount of slobber on her face, Marvin had been there for several minutes trying to wake her.

‘Gross.’

Algae, seaweed, dog slobber - so much for a nice, peaceful walk at low tide

‘LOW TIDE!’ - She darted up.

‘How high is the tide?’

‘Oh my head,’

Marvin let out his most assertive bark. Ava clambered to her feet, and was dusting off her pants when something caught her eye. Pulling an old mangled black notebook from the landslide, she shoved it in her pocket and ushered Marvin back towards home.

Ava could handle a one horse town, even welcome it. But the town where she grew up with her grandparents had more horses (and farm animals) than people. It was easy to get into a routine here, to live the same day, day after day. Wave to the same old lady on the drive to work each morning. A head nod to the strawberry farmer, 3-milk-3-sugar and a raisin buttertart, at the cafe at noon, same old ‘Oh hey there!’ greeting at the post office.

When Ava moved back to set her grandfathers affairs in order, she managed to snag herself the only pharmacist technician position in town, though she told herself she wouldn’t be staying long enough to need it. The pharmacy was in a small white building shared with the town’s cafe. When Ava started her position at the pharmacy, it felt more akin to an apothecary than a house of modern medicine. After months, Ava had convinced the Pharmacist Mr.Barkley to try what in his mind was ‘new technology’.

“Fine. Fine. Plug the darn thing in.” The Fax machine whirled to life. With a little well rehearsed pitch and more than one tutorial, Ava also persuaded Dr.Parker to upgrade to the modern system of fax.

“Think of how many times you have to rewrite Mrs.Alester’s prescription because she’s lost it. I promise you Dr.Parker it will make your life easier”

Phase two after the infamous fax launch was to create the perfect system to manage the townsfolks’ prescriptions. A year later she had it down to a science. She had each month planned out perfectly her system was so efficient she had monthly prescriptions filled before Dr.Parker had faxed them over. Now, everyone would pick up their refills on the same day each month leaving Ava plenty of time to deal with the day to day. Her system was perfect; working like a well oiled machine.

———

The phone rang.

‘Ava, Yup, hey! Hello. How are you darling? Yes. I’m going to be heading out of town. I’m going to need to pick up my heart medicine on Wednesday this week instead of Thursday. Ok, yup, thanks. You too.’

Ava moved Mr.Sampson’s medication from the Thursday basket to the Wednesday basket.

Wednesday 11:45am and right on schedule the ancient yet remarkably nimble Mr.Beezley approached the counter. Ava had two bags of prescriptions ready for Mr.Beezley on the third Wednesday of every month, all for his wife Edna.

Mr.Beezley came to town but once a month, on this Wednesday every month. A visit to the grocer, the pharmacy then a quick lunch by himself in the cafe before heading home to tend to his wife.

Mr.Beezley took his bags and turned to leave as the Mr.Sampson burst in the door. He reached for his hat and held it to his chest; a sign of respect from one country rancher to another.

“Mr.Beezley, sir, I haven’t seen ya in a dogs age.” Ava drowned out the conversation between the two farmers and went about her work. Her eyes left the pages only once, interest peaked by a name; ‘O’Leary.’

It had been almost a month since she knocked herself out on the beach, but it wasn’t until last night that Ava finally opened the little black book. It was pretty mangled, worn down by the elements. The ink was washed away from many of the pages of from what Ava could gather was the pocketbook of a local rancher. The attention to detail impressed her. The book contained daily to-do lists, along with the records of some business transactions - mostly the trading of livestock. Each task was neatly checked off in the margin along with the date of completion. Any comments were noted below each task.

Flipping through the legible pages, the notebook seemed to be of little excitement. The last entry was dated Sept 23, 1932 less than a quarter into the book. Surnames mentioned in the transactions were those of local founding families; Atkins, Parsons, Sampson, Saunders, etc. Only one page held any interest. On the last page of the book was a note about forwarding an anonymous payment of $130 to one Johnson O’Leary, in confidence, with no note of completion.

“...just passed that old O’Leary Farm on Maple Drive.” It wasn’t a common name in the area, in fact, Ava knew for certain that no one with the name O’Leary lived in the town. Ava knew every person in the town by name. She spent most of her life with her grandparents and this was also the only pharmacy for miles. She was also almost certain there were no farms on Maple. Nonetheless, Ava tilted her head at the mention of the uncommon surname but the two gentlemen left before any more details were shared.

Ava spent evening reviewing the pocketbook. The first pages were stained with watermarks that had completely erased away the ink, along with any clues about who the book belonged to. The notes: basic, logical, dated and completed. All except that very last page. Ava stared at the page then noticed the tiny faded words, ‘to Bunny in 1945’ scribbled at the bottom.

———

The third Thursday of the following month Ava got ready for work. St.Patricks day reminded her of her grandfather. He swore that his grandmother was Irish and saw to it to celebrate this holiday wholeheartedly.

Ava put on her shamrock earring, smiled in the mirror and headed to work.

“Afternoon Ava! Oh, nice earrings. Your grandpa loved St.Patty’s eh.”

As scheduled Mr.Sampson stopped by the pharmacy Thursday afternoon. This time Ava was ready. She had questions. ‘Who were the O’Leary’s? Where are they now and did they know a Johnson O’Leary? The book mentioned the Sampson family name; did Mr.Sampson know who this pocketbook belonged to?’

“My father once told me a story of when he was a young boy.”

Mr.Sampson began answering Avas questions.

“Long story short, the town rushed to save the O’Leary farmhouse from the fire but it burned to the ground. The only survivor was the youngest daughter Beatrice.’

‘As for the owner of the book, well you’re more than welcome to check my family’s ranching records to see of there’s a match.”

———

It took less than a minute for Ava to located the year, then corresponding month in the well kept Sampson farm records. The matching transactions - ‘Sawyer.’ There was only one Swayer family in town.

Ava was excited to reunite Mike Sawyer with his great grandfather’s pocketbook. They chatted cordially as he leafed through the notebook.

“This must have been his last notebook. He died shortly after the last entry he made.”

‘Oh, that must be why he didn’t complete the task on the last page.’

Mike flipped to the last page. He breathed in a faint but audible gasp then a tiny smile came across his face. He explained that his family held a deed made out to one ‘Mr.O’Leary’ no further information. He had approached the bank about settling the deed when it was passed down from his father, but without a first name the bank could do nothing.

‘Bunny?’

Mike had noticed the tiny faded remark at the bottom of the page.

“I wonder what that’s about?”

The way the word ‘Bunny’ rumbled in Mikes low, deep voice reminded Ava of her grandfather. He use to tell stories of growing up with his grandparents, a way of trying to comfort Ava as a young child. Except he never called her Grama or by her name Beatrice, it was always ‘Nanny Bunny’.

With a full name in hand, and the black book as proof Mike and Ava met at the bank the next day. The clerk listened carefully to the story then began typing away, searching for any record of a Johnson O’Leary.

There’s only one name on the ‘Johnson R. O’Leary account, Beatrice ‘Bunny’ O’Leary. Beatrice was named the sole beneficiary to the O’Leary estate but after the fire there was nothing left to inherit.

‘Our records show Beatrice was raised by the Oakleys’ then...’

the bank clerk looked up to meet Ava’s gaze, “She married into the Millerton family.”

Ava was the only Millerton in town. A dead end to the family name; the first girl in five generations.

“I’ll need to double check our records Ava, but you know as well as I do that you are the only Millerton for miles.” She hurried off.

The deed title for $130 had been left untouched and now total exactly $20,000.

“Just sign on the line and it’s yours.”

Mike and Ava exited the bank, exchanged fair-wells and parted ways. Ava walked slow while her mind raced.

‘Of all the places and all the people...’ she thought.

Then all the possibilities! Oh the things she could do with this money. She could finally fix up her grandparents’ coastal home. She could take a real vacation or pack Marvin in her tiny suburban and move back to the city. She could use this money to help save cats and dogs, that would be a dream come true. Or the shoes! Oh how many shoes this could buy.

Ava froze. She knew exactly what she had to do.

She walked back into the bank and paid off her student loan.