Gus squinted at the small print, then brightened. “This big part is Canada.”
“Good! And what are these up and down lines?”
“Provinces,” he declared. He jabbed a finger on one. “This is Ontario, where we live.”
“Excellent, Gus. Can you tell me exactly where we live?”
Dot and Margaret stared at Gus, flabbergasted, as he leaned over the map. He noticed their wonder and assured them they would learn it too, in two years.
“We’re learning it right now,” Dot replied, matter-of-fact, “from you.”
“Go ahead, Gus,” her father urged. “Where are we?”
“We are…” He grinned. “Right here!”
“That’s right. That is Oshawa.” Her father slid one finger up the page from the spot Gus had marked, and he faced Margaret. “North is anything in this direction.”
She held the compass up. “Why do I need to know where north is?”
“If you have a compass, you’ll never be lost. I’ll show you.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and presented it to all three children. “I’ve made you an adventure. Dorothy, you will read these Morse code letters to Gus. Gus, you will spell out what she’s saying and pass those directions to Margaret. And Margaret, you will follow the compass. Do you understand? Look again at the compass. What is it pointing at? Remember, ‘N’ means north.”
She frowned at the compass then looked up. “It’s pointing at the picture of Grandfather.”
“Yes! Correct! Grandfather’s picture is north of where you are standing right now. Now out you go, the three of you. Have fun!”
It was a beautiful summer day, with the kind of warm breeze that felt like a kiss. Their mother was hanging laundry on the line, clothespins in her mouth, and she waved at them as they passed.
Dot clutched the paper in her hands, delighted by the puzzle. “Dash Dot-dot-dot-dot Dot-dash-dot…” she read to herself, then out loud she told Gus “T-H-R…”
That led to Gus telling Margaret to take “Three big steps north,” then “four baby steps east.” Margaret’s eyes were glued to the compass, and Dot’s were on the paper. Neither of them saw the big rock that tripped Dot and would have sent her sprawling if Gus hadn’t rushed in and caught her on the way down.
“Good catch!” Margaret said, laughing.
“Thank you, Gus,” Dot said quietly as he set her back on her feet.
His cheeks were bright red. “You’re welcome.”
“Come on, everybody! No dillydallying!” Margaret called, marching on.
At the end of the quest, their father had stashed a little bag of sweets. All three rushed back for another adventure, which he happily produced.
A month or so after that, when it was just the five of them at supper, Dot’s mother set her warm hand on her fingers.
“Please, Dorothy. The tapping is driving me mad.”
“But I’m spelling.”
“I know what you’re doing,” her mother said, smiling with infinite patience. “Let’s leave the spelling until after supper, please.”
From the corner of her eye, Dot saw Gus smiling. At first, she thought he was laughing at her, but then his finger silently tapped the table.
.. / .-.. .. -.- . / .. –
I like it
“My grandmother was named Dorothy,” her father said then, brightening with a thought. “A very intelligent woman. We named you after her, actually. But no one ever called her Dorothy. Do you know what they called her?”
Everyone shook their heads.
