The Canadian Civil War: Volume 4 - Mississippi Beast

Chapter 29 –

  A pretty face is always welcome

  At dawn we opened the loading dock doors just in time to see a large police boat come our way. It pulled straight up to our dock, and up stepped Elise! If you ever wanted to see a bunch of grumpy, sweaty, dirty guys suddenly stand up straight and brush themselves off, just bring Elise into a room. Two minutes before they were all grumping about how tired and sore they were, and now suddenly they all had energy to help her out of the boat and bring up a couple cases of bottled water. Funny how that works.

  “We also have some food.” And she pointed to piles of sandwiches. The baguettes were still warm. Fresh food. All of us had filthy hands, but we did a quick wash with some of the bottled water and then dove into the food like we hadn’t eaten in a week. “I am very pleased to see how much progress you are all making,” Elsie said as we were eating. Immediately she had five men offer to show her around the warehouse. LeClerk was given the honors of leading the tour, but four others walked along, quick to point out anything that LeClerk might miss mentioning. Elise stepped carefully in her boots, occasionally taking an arm where the floor was still wet. Suddenly no one was too tired or too hot.

  I stayed by the loading bay. Judging by the contents of the boat, we must have been their first stop. There were cases of water and boxes of sandwiches from stem to stern. Lots of tired men were going to be much happier today. While I was inspecting the boat contents, I noticed Gustav working his way toward me, stepping over and around water bottles.

  “Gustav.” I shouted while he stepped up to the dock. “I am really glad to see you. Thank you for helping Gabrielle and Jean.”

  “They must be the toughest eighty year olds in Canada. They weren’t leaving without piles of historical materials. Even after I filled the trunk, they wanted to stay and collect more. I actually had to pick up Gabrielle and carry her to the car before she and Jean would leave.”

  “Thank you for that. The house is a major loss, but losing Jan and Gabrielle would have been a tragedy.”

  “Getting out the Missouri side was not that hard. We were probably over that bridge half an hour before it collapsed. The problem I had for the next two days was getting across the river again. I could drive south to St. Louis and cross there, or north to LaCrosse and cross there. I never thought much about it before, but going north and south in Canada is much easier than trying to go east or west. I had to go clear up to LaCrosse before I could get over to Illinois.”

  Elise and her entourage returned at this point. After all, how long can it take to look at a concrete floor? She shook hands with each man and thanked them for their work. I had the feeling a lot more mud would be shoveled today than yesterday. Finally I got a kiss and a quiet conversation.

  “Gustav will come back for you around four. We would like you to visit the rest of the warehouses and determine how much more needs to be done. We would also like you to create a rating for each warehouse. Which ones are in the best shape and can handle the most traffic when the roads open? Ideally, the best will be close to each other so we know where to spend most of our time clearing the streets.”

  “Okay. In the meantime, can I promise them water and baguettes every morning?”

  “Yes. And tell them we are in the process of creating a transit system to get workers here.”

  “All that will be appreciated. And tell the police we are grateful for their work. No one approached our building last night.”

  “That came at a price,” she said, suddenly looking down. “There was a shoot out several blocks from here. Two reservists were killed. As quickly as we are collecting police from around the region to help here, the criminals seem to be collecting from all over Canada. Be careful tonight.” We kissed and I helped her down into the boat. As I watched the captain maneuver down the street, I could see the water had dropped another foot over night. More debris was visible now. At some point soon, the water would be so low boats would be unable to float. As much as we all wanted the water to go away, there would be a point where the streets were no longer wet, and yet not dry. How we would get around then, I had no idea.

  How did the rest of the day go? Well, we didn’t exactly whistle while we worked, but we did seem to work a little faster, and last longer between breaks. What did we have left to do? Where do I begin? First we needed to get the mud out of the place. We were making progress there, but I figured at least two more days. That was really the simple job. Next we had to get all our systems ready to move pallets. That would take careful cleaning of the conveyor systems, and probably major repairs to the pallet elevator. Motors on both would have to be reinstalled. That completed, we would be able to move a box from point A to point B, but moving boxes was useless unless we knew what was in the boxes and where they needed to go. At some point we were going to have to get our computer systems up and running, or all this was a waste of time.

  I was still puzzling that out when Gustav came for me at four. I washed up as best I could and hopped into the boat. Gustav had created a map for us, block by block, warehouse by warehouse. We couldn’t think of any clever way to do the visits, so we did the obvious – we just started down the street, stopping at each place.

  What did I learn over the next four hours? I learned it was going to take more than bottled water and baguettes to get these places functioning again. I limited myself to ten minutes per visit, but you can do the math. I got my head in the doors of only twenty four places. We would have to do another round each day for at least the next four or five days to have a complete survey. Maybe the next twenty four would be better than the first, but I doubted it. Of the twenty four I checked, two had been looted and vandalized. Three were locked up tight. They were making no effort to reopen. Several others were open, but work was going at a snail’s pace. They seemed to think the army or some ministry or the tooth fairy was going to come and clean their place. By my count only fifteen of the twenty four were making progress. Those places were eager to see me, and we had good conversations about what would be needed to reopen. But even in those places I saw problems as I did a quick tour of each. Several had lost all their existing stock. Unable to move it quickly enough, they now had rows of rotting cardboard cases sitting on mud-soaked wooden pallets. Others had moved their stock, but the building itself had sustained structural damage as heavy vehicles or trees had come crashing into walls. Realistically, I saw six warehouses that had some shot at opening within thirty days. Could any place be ready in fourteen days? I doubted it.

  Gustav dropped me back at Murphy Manufacturing. I gave him a verbal summary of my appraisal and promised to follow up with a detailed list for the ministry. We agreed tomorrow we would start out at three. Then I climbed the stairs to my pallet palace and a dinner of freeze-dried something. I was not in a good mood.

  “I take it the world outside does not look that good?” LeClerk sat down on the next pallet.

  “My best guess is we might be able to get twenty-five percent of these places up and running in a month. Granted, I only saw a couple dozen places today, and maybe I will be surprised and impressed by what I see tomorrow, but today was not encouraging.”

  “Shawn, twenty five percent was all there ever was here. There are good companies here, don’t get me wrong. But there was always a bunch of places that did little and were happy with it. I bet tonight there are owners drinking champagne and preparing for insurance payouts that will rid them of places they were hoping would burn down. The flood was a godsend to them. Why do you think Murphy Manufacturing did the amount of business it did here?”

  “Let’s assume my rough estimate is correct and only twenty-five percent of the places are able to get up and running. Is that enough?”

  “That’s all that is needed. The country ran fine on that number before, and it will run fine after this mess is cleaned up. With a little luck, two years from now the losers will collect their insurance mone
y and be bulldozed, and the winners will expand into the space they leave.”

  “And Murphy Manufacturing will be one of the winners?”

  “Absolutely.” You have to like the guy. We were about to spend another night sleeping on cardboard, a floor above our main docks still reeking of mud, and he has decided we are winners. We really had to get him a raise.

  The next few days I finished my initial reviews. The water levels slowly dropped, giving us hope for future work, but also causing temporary problems as our boats had more and more trouble getting around. It was clear we would be walking soon.

  What did I find in my reviews? More of the same. Some serious damage had occurred on the street closest to the river. I was not sure those places would ever function again. A few blocks away the damage was less. Here recovery was a question of management. Sometimes it was good, sometimes it was not so good. One place would not even let me in to look. They had their own agenda, whether that was insurance fraud or illegal trafficking, I didn’t know and didn’t care. The cops would sort it out later when there was time. For now, I needed to focus on the places that could be brought back. How many were there? About a quarter.

  During this period Elise was able to get the shuttle service started that she had mentioned. We got fresh people in. Our foremen rotated home to showers and real food. Younger backs took over the cleaning. I got back to the school two nights. Each night I stood under the shower until my skin shriveled. Wow, it felt good to be clean. Then I headed to the cafeteria and ate huge meals. French cooking is always good, but those nights it was marvelous.

  You would think Elise and I would spend those evenings together, but she was tied up in meetings. I could see her sitting on the stage of the auditorium, still doing most of the talking. She may not have been officially in charge, but she was clearly the leader. There was still energy in all her questions or comments, still a dedication to getting this crisis resolved within the rapidly shrinking number of days they had left.

  I spend hours being debriefed by two army officers (no sign of Lieutenant hot-to-trot, thank God). We created a map of the warehouse district, with color coding for the condition – and potential -- of each warehouse. It helped. We could see where the most potential was, so we could also communicate with the street people about where the first clearing efforts should be made. This was going to take coordination, and the officers promised it would occur.

  My nights back at the warehouse we were still sleeping on cardboard, but there was more water and more food. We were able to wash up after work, and that made all of us feel better. I am certain we also smelled far better. We still closed up each night, and we posted a guard, but we only had one effort to break in, and a single shotgun blast sent those people running.

  The day the water level dropped too low for boats, I saw one of the oddest sights I think I will ever witness. Some genius decided to handle the debris problem with snow plows. I am serious. They brought out the municipal trucks with snow plows affixed to their fronts, and just push junk down the street. Cars, trees, boards, reptiles, whatever was on that street got pushed down the block until the pile got too high to move. Then a front-end loader and a dump truck took over, lifting huge loads into the trucks to be carried off to whatever mountain of trash they were creating in the local dumps. It was fun to watch, and pretty effective. Our block was cleared in under two hours. We still had mounds of trash in our parking lot and up against our loading docks, but at least now we were able to get in tow trucks and winches to clear those areas. In the course of three days we went from endless rubbish to streets and lots that at least resembled their former selves.

  The day after the streets were mostly cleared, I got a visit from a couple I vaguely recognized but couldn’t place. They had climbed the stairs to the side entrance and stood just inside the building, waiting to be greeted, or at least allowed to come further into the building. I got up from the conveyor system I had been inspecting and went over to them.

  “Hi. Can I help you?” I still couldn’t place them.

  “I am not sure if you recall us. You were kind enough to have lunch with us at the Jolliet mansion some days ago,” the woman said. Now I remembered the lunch, but I was darned if I could remember the names. “I am Marguerite Joubert, and this is my husband Philippe.”

  “Of course. I am sorry to be such a dunce. So much has happened since then.”

  “We understand. It seems like a different age.”

  “Yes. I am sure we should be grateful for the time we had there, but it seems such a loss. I wish now we had served you lunch in the mansion. You would have really enjoyed the place.”

  “We were happy to visit, and we enjoyed sitting under those huge old trees.” At this point there was the usual pause that occurs when people move from the “happy to see you” part of the conversation to the “here’s why I really came” section. Obviously they hadn’t struggled through the mud to talk about the good old days. I stood and waited. They would get to the point eventually.

  “We understand you are the head of the warehouse council.” Marguerite continued.

  “I think it would be more accurate to call me a conduit. I have been meeting with warehouse managers and trying to communicate their needs to the Interior Ministry.” Where was this conversation going? And did Mr. Joubert ever talk?

  “We have been told that you are reviewing the quality of the warehouses, and that your evaluation will determine what resources are made available to them. Several managers have mentioned their concerns to our organization.”

  “Your organization?”

  “We are board members of the local Huguenot Business League chapter.”

  “What are their concerns?”

  “They are concerned that Huguenot businesses might be disadvantaged during this period.” She was staring straight into my face at this point. It was not so much a challenge as it was a statement of accepted truth. I was hot, mud covered, and tired. I felt my hands clench. I didn’t have time for this. And I didn’t deserve this. Lots of responses crossed my mind. I let them. I stood and breathed and waited for my hands to unclench.

  “You understand,” I finally replied. “I have no idea what the religious affiliation is of any warehouse. I am tasked with finding out which ones can be made operational before Canadian manufacturing stops. That is what I am looking for. Frankly, if they were owned by Martians, I wouldn’t know or care.” Now it was my time to look her in the eye and wait.

  “And others in the government?”

  “If you have concerns about others in the government, take it up with them.” Another long silence and lots of direct eye contact. I wished her husband would say something so we could just start throwing punches and get it over with. There was a long pause, and then she said,

  “I guess we will be going. Thank you for your time.”

  “Before you go,” I might be mad, but that didn’t keep me from being brilliant. “Didn’t you say you had some shoe stores?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you sell boots?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are they waterproof?”

  “Of course.” At this point her sales personality finally clicked on and she began her pitch. “All our boots are designed to be used by hunters, so they stand up to harsh conditions and are completely waterproof.” I think she had just quoted some ad copy. No matter.

  “I’ll take a hundred pairs. I need you to deliver them yet today if possible, tomorrow for sure.”

  “A hundred pairs? We would give you a quantity discount of course, but that would still be over ten thousand of your dollars.”

  “That’s fine. Take my credit card or bill the company, whichever is easier for you. I want fifteen pairs here, and the rest distributed to the other warehouses. You seem to know who the Protestants are. Make sure they get half.”

  “Of course. We should be able to start deliver
ies this afternoon. We will bring an assortment of sizes, blah, blah, blah.” I nodded patiently while she rambled on about the delivery details. I still wished her husband would say something stupid so I could take out some of my frustrations, but at least this way I would have dry feet. It was clear by the time I did my survey tomorrow, we would be done with boats and I would be walking from place to place through ankle-deep water. Might as well do it in new boots.

  Eventually the Jouberts went away, and I got back to work on the conveyor belt. More mud, more cleaning, another day gone.