THE SHOES
by
Barb Hagreen

(inspiration: one ancient rotten shoe found behind a building in Barkerville)

The shoes had served him well. Brown leather brogues used only for dress they had belonged to Jack’s father before him. The day before Jack Morris left England for Canada in 1863 his father handed him the shoes.

‘It’s a wilderness, Father. Where would I wear such a fine pair of shoes?’

‘My boy, it won’t be all chopping down trees and shooting bears. Canada West is a well-established part of the Empire now and if you change your mind about this gold business…..well…..you take the shoes and just perhaps you’ll find a pretty lass to dance with on your travels. There, enough said, you pop them in your trunk now and off you go.’

Well, Jack had, in fact, courted his Emily in those shoes and he’d written his father about it. Married her in them too, so polished up you could damn near see your face in them. His old dad had been proud to hear of that.

When the soles of the shoes had begun to wear, Jack had bought a shoe last, some leather, a tin of brads and a fine little hammer. He’d mended those soles over and over, along with the soles of Emily’s and the children’s shoes as well. Here it was now, 1880, and Emily prevailing upon him to buy those splendid black shoes at Mason & Daley’s and Jack sorely tempted to let her have her way.

He wasn’t sure that the old brogues didn’t have a bit of life left in them. He’d not consign them to the rubbish heap just yet. Young John would fit in those shoes in 6 months at the rate he was growing.

A lump rose unexpectedly in Jack’s throat. Yes, he’d leave the decision about getting rid of the old shoes to his son in his own good time.