Some Day the Sun Will Shine and Have Not Will Be No More by Brian Peckford

insisted that every name
     on the daily worksheets since my time there should be checked to see just how
     many other such mistakes I had made, pretty confident that there were no such
     other mistakes. Reluctantly, he continued the examination. There were no other
     mistakes. In the filing area, all the filing had been done and I had full
     reports on all the travels I had done to that point. Nevertheless, the
     supervisor reiterated the one omission to the exclusion of all the other things
     that had been completed comprehensively and correctly.
    This examination continued after nine o’clock and clients were beginning to
     gather in the waiting room and outside the little building.
    “Perhaps I should show you how to interview clients,” thesupervisor explained. “You sit here at the side of the desk. I will get in
     behind the desk.”
    He went to the door of the waiting room to call in the first client he was to
     interview, and at that very moment the outside door of the waiting room flew
     open and in ran Rosy.
    “Mr. Peck, Mr. Peck, where are you?” she shouted.
    She bumped right into the supervisor.
    “Now, now, my dear, keep your voice down and sit down here in the waiting room
     and wait your turn,” the supervisor said.
    “No. Who are you? Where is Mr. Peck?” she said.
    She rushed on into the office, saw me, and began to cry and shout in an
     incomprehensible way.
    In rushed the supervisor. He sat her down on the client chair, went around the
     desk, and in officialdom’s most bureaucratic tone said, “Your name,
     please?”
    And so began a series of unfortunate verbal exchanges, with Rosy completely
     confused and scared. The supervisor continued his cold interviewing style.
    Finally, realizing that he was at sea in this particular setting, with Rosy
     simply looking at me and refusing to answer his questions, sobbing and calling
     out her husband’s name, the supervisor relented and requested that I step
     in.
    I quickly put my arms around Rosy, telling her everything would be all right.
     Her sobs began to subside. The supervisor, seeing this, grabbed his coat and
     said he was going to the boarding house.
    There were about seven people in the waiting room. I immediately asked them all
     to leave and come back in the afternoon. They all quickly agreed, given the
     circumstances. With everyone gone, Rosy became more stable, trembling and
     quietly sobbing.
    There had been a drowning overnight just outside the harbour. A child had come
     up near Rosy’s place that morning shouting and announcing the drowning. Someone
     uttered, “It sounds just like when Jack drowned.”
    Rosy, of course, overheard it all and the terrible events of four years ago
     came sweeping back, fresh, as if it were today’s tragedy.
    “Rosy, let’s go back to your house,” I whispered.
    As we walked around the harbour we saw Charlie and Mabel rushing toward us.
     They had been down at the government wharf where rescue efforts were under way;
     returning home, they realized that Rosy was gone and they made their way to my
     office.
    Mabel ran toward us. “Thank God she is with you, Mr. Peckford,” exclaimed
     Mabel.
    “Let’s go back to our place,” Charlie said.
    And so we went back to Mabel and Charlie’s place. They were wonderful,
     consoling and recounting Jack’s last days with Rosy and wishing these things
     didn’t happen anymore. It was lunchtime now and Mabel quickly prepared the meal;
     before long Rosy was feeling a whole lot better.
    “I am sorry I didn’t turn up yesterday, Mr. Peck. I forgot.”
    “Well, Rosy, if you forgot I think that is a good sign. But perhaps we could
     get together tomorrow.”
    “Yes, tomorrow.”
    There was a knock at Charlie’s door. A young man stood there with a note for
     Mr. Peckford. It was from the supervisor. “I will be leaving this afternoon. I
     can get a helicopter from the road construction camp a few miles from
     here.”
    “Who was that stranger in