The Canadian Civil War: Volume 5 - Carbines and Calumets

  Chapter 24 –

  Cracks begin to appear

  Anyone who has been in a hospital knows the morning routine. A nurse wakes you up way too early, takes your temperature and blood pressure, tells you nothing, and then leaves. Eventually really bad food arrives. French cuisine does not apply to French hospitals. You get some sort of mush with some burned, cold, toast. Even the coffee is bad. I assume hospital kitchens are run by prison inmates working for pennies a day and exacting revenge on a public that does not know they are completely innocent of the crime that had put them away. Eventually a doctor comes. He is far too cheerful (apparently he had breakfast elsewhere), and he tells you everything is fine. A nurse comes, changes your bandages, gives you some papers to sign, and you can go.

  On the plus side, I will admit the nurse helped me get my pants and socks on. Bending my leg was going to be bad for a few days. She also gave me several days' worth of antibiotics and helped me to the door. I limped over to the first cab in line and got a short ride back to my hotel. The doorman helped me out of the cab, helped me through the front doors, and helped me to a table in the dining room. I needed real food. A waiter was at my table in seconds, as was the manager.

  "Please," I asked the waiter. "I have only had hospital food for the last twenty four hours. Please bring me a large breakfast. You choose what to bring." He hurried off. That left me with the manager.

  "Please, Messieur Jiroux, would you sit with me for a moment? I must apologize to you for yesterday."

  "I will sit with you, but there is no need to apologize. We have been told the police made a mistake."

  "I think not." I wanted to be completely honest with this man who had done so much for me. "I think they did what they were told to do. They have now released me, but I cannot guarantee they will not be back. I know it was frightful to your men and damaging to your hotel."

  "These are difficult times."

  "Yes. And I may be a risk to you. I will be happy to move to another hotel, should it be necessary."

  "You would be happy to leave?"

  "Of course not. I love this hotel, and I am grateful for all your staff has done for me. But if my presence is a danger to you, I should leave."

  "We are honored to be your hosts. Last summer, when no one would stay here, you were our guest. I know you returned at some risk to yourself."

  "Nevertheless, I also brought some risk to you and your staff. I think your security staff should get a bonus, do you not?"

  "They are proud to do their duty. But of course any man with a family can always use a little additional money."

  "I was thinking one thousand dollars for each man - as thanks for the extra time they have spent away from their families. My company will pay, of course. Is that acceptable to you?"

  "It is not necessary, but I think it will be accepted well."

  "Thank you. And of course I will pay for the damages to my room."

  "That is not necessary."

  "It would make me feel better about the incident."

  "Then we will accept. By the way, your room is completely repaired. But there was some damage to your electronic devices. We have found a new computer for you, and a new phone. You may wish to use it this morning. Your sister has been calling the hotel. She is very concerned about you." He had the phone in his pocket, and he handed it to me.

  "Thank you, my friend." What more could I say? We shook hands and he went back to his office. Meanwhile, food started arriving. I ate two croissants and most of my eggs before I called my sister.

  "Elise called and told us you had been arrested and shot, but the wound was not too bad. What the hell is going on?" Henri must have been keeping Elise informed as he watched from a distance. Good. And Elise was keeping my family up to date. Also good, but Catherine never swears. Catholic school will do that to you. The sisters had really nasty responses to profanity. If she was stressed enough to swear, I could just imagine the stress my parents were feeling. My brothers, of course, would think getting shot was really neat. They would all want to see the wound the minute I was back in Philadelphia.

  "What is happening here is actually pretty good. The weasels are beginning to turn on each other. The guy who shot me is already off to thug heaven. And Andrees had his big speech sabotaged last night. It may be chaotic for a few days, but I like how things are trending."

  "Desperate people do desperate things. How about getting the hell out of there."

  "If Sister Angelique could hear you now."

  "Seriously, little brother, it is time to go."

  "I agree. The minute the border is open, I am gone."

  "That's a promise?"

  "That's a promise." I hung up and went back to eating. Wow, the food was good. I just kept eating until I couldn't eat any more. Finally I leaned back in my chair with my third cup of coffee and called Elise.

  "I take it Henri is keeping you up to date."

  "He is trying. He thought he would pick you up this morning, but you took the wrong cab. I have a copy of your hospital records. The physicians here say you got lucky. How could you be shot in a police station?"

  "Thomas LeBeck let himself in. He was a pretty angry guy. I have been told, by the way, that he had a heart attack yesterday."

  "Yes we are trying to confirm that. Shawn, please come home. You have done wonders, but you need to come home. I am so afraid..." She let that drift off, and I could her sniffling on the line. I had made her cry.

  "I just told Catherine I will leave the minute the border is open. She got me a new car. It is in the lot here somewhere, and I will take it north the minute I can. I promise." There was a bit more to the conversation, but you get the idea. I had promised I would leave. And in truth, I was ready to go.

  As for the border, I was about to learn some more about that. The television was going in the dining room. It was off to one side with the sound off, and I had not been paying any attention to it, but I could see the waiters spending more and more time looking in that direction. It turned out there was a very good reason for their attention.

  I was too far away to see the details, but I caught some words at the bottom of the screen. This was happening in Arkansas. What was happening? They showed a group of Arkansas provincial police rolling up to the border in their cruisers, lights flashing. They got out and two police talked with LNA soldiers standing at the border while the other police stepped across the border to speak with motorists. Even without sound, I could gauge the general tenor of the conversations. The TV cameras showed the soldiers adamant. Lots of head shaking, some pointing up the road. Whatever they were being asked, the answer was "no."

  Then the camera moved to observe the police and motorists. Here was lots of anger. There were a dozen or so people standing right at the line that had been drawn across the road - the "border" - and they were clearly asking the police for something, or maybe it would be fairer to say they were demanding something. Soon the dozen became scores. They got out of cars and trucks and stood around the police, all seeming to want the same things. There was lots of arm waving, lots of pointing.

  Next one of the police got out a hand radio and made a call. As he talked, he pointed to a frontage road that ran along the west side of the highway. In a couple minutes two police cruisers, lights flashing, came up the frontage road headed north. There was a line drawn across the frontage road marking the "border" but there were no troops there, so the police just drove through. At this point the officers talking to the drivers pointed back up the road. Nothing happened for a few minutes, and then one of the cruisers came back, lights still flashing, but now he was followed by a stream of cars and trucks. He was leading cars over the border. Instantly, all the people who had been arguing with the police ran back for their vehicles.

  The rest of the news report consisted of the reporter, standing on camera, talking into a microphone while an endless strea
m of cars rolled south behind her. The barricade had been broken -- and broken by Arkansas police. It was impossible to know if the road would stay open very long, but the fact that it was open at all was a direct threat to the legitimacy of the border. Clearly the Arkansas police did not believe terrorists were coming down the highway.

  "That's it then," one of the other diners said. "All this nonsense is over. We can go home." And that seemed to be consensus of the room. I was less certain. But it was certainly a step in the right direction - a crack in the wall.