For Pretty's Sake

The Newcombs - a family of five plus a white standard poodle with blue hair ribbons and answering to the name of Alexander - arrived on the island one unseasonably warm August afternoon, to take a two week possession of the house that Jack had built above the bay.  They were, so rumor said, from upstate New York, and the first and only new faces to cross the passage that day.  


Nice enough folks, I reckon, Cap judged as they drove up and off the ferry slip, but I ain't real sure 'bout that city dog, looks to be sissified from what I seen.  


For the Newcombs and especially for Alexander, this was the verbal kiss of death. Of all the insults that could be tossed out, the worst was "sissified" - it implied a lack of backbone, a parasitical unwillingness to earn your keep, an insufferable vanity.  Island dogs were expected to contribute and there was no use in being pretty for pretty's sake.  Poor Alexander with his prancing gait and dog show manners, his painted nails and outright laughable coat cut never had a chance.  


Hair ribbons, for Christ's sweet sake, Uncle Shad said with a disgusted grimace, 'Spose he sleeps on satin sheets and gets breakfast in bed!


Torn between feeling pity for the dog and contempt for his owners, island folk kept their distance from the newly arrived family.  The Newcombs, while treated civilly, were discreetly and methodically excluded from the usual summer activities, the usual spirit of welcome was withheld by unspoken agreement.  The Sunday School Picnic came and went without them, invitations to the church suppers were not offered, not a single fisherman volunteered his boat to take them to see the whales.  Even island children, following the harsh example of their elders, refused to be friendly.  It was not our finest hour as a village, my grandmother was to say, although she remained disinclined to admit it publicly.  It was the preacher who finally called us all to account with a soft spoken sermon about judging others, causing every head in church to look down in shame and regret but the Newcombs had left by then and they didn't return - there was no one to apologize to.


Other families came and went over the years Jack rented out the pretty little place.  Some came with children, some came with dogs, some came alone.  Island women brought casseroles and cakes to welcome them one and all and fishermen dropped off fresh haddock wrapped in newspaper, trying, I imagined, to make up for our past lack of tolerance.  These were people "from away" but they were also our guests and as the preacher had suggested, we owed them some hospitality and kindness, even the ones with bad taste in dog breeds.


It's easier to make room for people than make it up to them later.