The Canadian Civil War: Volume 5 - Carbines and Calumets

  Chapter 28 –

  Repairs are never easy

  When I woke up, Elise was sitting on my bed holding my hand. That was very pleasant, of course, but also surprising.

  “Hi,” I said. One of my more brilliant greetings.

  “Are you feeling better?” She asked. It seemed a strange question, but then I noticed the room was strange too. Had they painted while I slept?

  “I feel fine. I’ve just been a little sleepy.” I looked around a little more and realized I was not in my room. “Where am I?”

  “They moved you to a hospital. The hotel staff was worried about you.”

  “I hate hospitals. The nurses never let you sleep.”

  “You have been sleeping – or half conscious – for two days.”

  “Are you sure?” That got her laughing. Wow, she was beautiful. She held my hand with both of hers, and leaned down to kiss my forehead.

  “They can show you your chart if you would like, but I think you can trust us on this. You have been here two days.”

  “Goulet told me about that. They always keep Americans in the hospital extra days – they think we are wimps.”

  “The word they keep using around here is “imbecile.” Nice word. It works in both French and English. They don’t like the way you bandaged your cuts. Several were infected.”

  “I was doing fine. It’s the bandages down here that are deficient. They keep falling off.”

  “You can argue that point with the nurses when you care to.” At this point she was smoothing my hair back in some sort of order. “In the meantime, I’ll make sure your bandages get put on properly.”

  “I like that idea.” I tried to raise my other hand to touch her, but I discovered it was tethered to a drip line. There was also a clip attached to one of my fingers. “Is all this necessary?” I asked.

  “Probably not anymore, but they were pretty worried for a while. You had a high fever and a white blood count that was through the roof.”

  “When did you get down here?”

  “I got in yesterday. We drove.” She emphasized the last two words, and broke into a huge smile. So the roads were open still. Suddenly I felt much, much better.

  “How do things look as you drive through? Are there still military vehicles out there?”

  “No. The only thing you see is a sign ‘Louisiana Welcomes You.’ I wanted to get out of the car and hug that sign.”

  “So things are normal again.”

  “Things appear normal. There are still problems, Shawn. We have work to do yet. We may have stopped shooting each other, but real differences still exist.”

  “So what’s next?”

  “First, we pump you full of antibiotics and teach you how to put on a proper bandage. Then, if you are ready in a day or two or three, we drive to Lafayette, Arkansas.”

  “And what will we find there?”

  “We will find a meeting. Now don’t make a face. This will not be an ordinary meeting.”

  “Where have I heard that before?”

  “Trust me on this, or better yet, trust Uncle Claude. It is his idea. We will have a general meeting of people from around the country, and we will talk. It may just clear the air, or it may give us some directions for the future, but it will at least get us all in the same room, and that has to be an improvement over what we have had recently.”

  “What do you mean it is Uncle Claude’s idea? Is he better?”

  “A little. He is adjusting to the fact he may never walk again – his balance is just too bad. And his hands shake so badly he can barely feed himself, but at least he is out of bed, and he is reengaging in the world.”

  “He also seemed pretty depressed the last time I saw him.”

  “He is still depressed. In truth, I don’t think he will ever recover from what was done to his people. He holds himself responsible for their deaths. But, now he talks about other things as well. This meeting seems to be helping him. It is giving him a project to work on.”

  “Then it is already a success. By the way, if we are driving to Arkansas, do you mind if we take my car?” Elise agreed, and I had one more reason to be happy.

  It actually took two more days for me to get out of the hospital. I think in the end they released me because they were tired of arguing with me. The hospital seemed to have a work requirement that all nurses be crabby at all hours, and I thought sick guys should be allowed to sleep. I was also none too happy when one nurse brought a group of nurse trainees around and showed all my cuts and lectured on how a proper dressing should be applied and then described the terrible job I had done and the consequences. Who wants to start their day as an object lesson?

  Elise did a nice job of apologizing to the nursing staff for me – after all, I was ill – and then we went back to my hotel for a day to rest. I thanked the hotel staff for getting me to the hospital, all except my cleaning lady. She didn’t want to talk with me, she wanted a private conversation with Elise, and while they were nominally out of ear shot, I was pretty sure I heard the word “imbecile” multiple times. I suppose if I were a hundred and ten and still cleaning rooms, I would be crabby too.

  What did I learn during my recuperation? I learned Andrees had not been found yet. The local joke seemed to be the police didn’t need to search for him, his wife would find him and then he would pay for his sins. It was mildly funny, but in truth this guy really did have multiple crimes to his credit. I hoped his wife got her revenge, but there was more this guy had to pay for.

  On the political front, the Louisiana legislature voted to impeach Andrees in absentia, and called for new elections in November. Suddenly Heritage Party signs were disappearing from every window. There would be a new party, or a new coalition in power by fall.

  On the home front, my mother called daily, but after a few words with me, she always asked to speak with Elise. Maybe she thought my leg wound affected my ability to speak. Or maybe she just thought Elise was more fun to talk with. I can’t argue with that.

  The one nurse who was still speaking with me at the end of my hospital stay recommended I take walks to help my leg heal, so Elise and I took a walk after lunch. We found a park and slowly walked the paths, enjoying the flowers. There were many park benches where I was able to sit and rest when I felt tired. The park was quiet. People were around, but they seemed to move at a slower pace, and were less engaged in conversation, or maybe that was just me. I held Elise’ hand and we walked (all right, I limped) at a leisurely pace, and while we spoke, there were long periods where we said nothing – and that felt fine too. It was an attractive sunny September day, and it felt good just to be outside.

  Back at the hotel I asked the doorman if he knew where my car was. He pointed to a beautiful black Ford sedan. I could tell just by looking at it, it would be a joy to drive. I decided we might try it and drive to dinner. We went up stairs, showered, and changed. Elise apparently had found a different brand of bandage, because the ones she put on me stayed in place. I put on a white shirt and pants. Elise wore a pale yellow silk dress. She let me zip up her dress, and I suddenly felt much less tired.

  What can I say about the car? I turned the key and it started. No funny noises, no rattles, no hesitation. It was American. My leg was stiff and it would have been very sensible for Elise to do the driving, but I was desperate to get behind the wheel. And I loved it. It turned on a dime, accelerated smoothly, rode quietly, had comfortable seats -- and it was American. I hit Canal Street doing somewhat over forty, barely aware of my speed. It would be so much fun to have out on the highway. My thanks to Henry Ford and generations of American engineers.

  Elise just humored me. “That’s the biggest grin I’ve seen on your face in a while.”

  “I should have asked. Are you allowed to ride in an American car?” I wasn’t sure if I was asking a serious question or not.

  “I probably should not own one, but I
think I am allowed to ride in one. We have amazing freedoms in Canada. On the other hand, we do have speed laws.”

  “Good point.” I took it down a bit, although I was still well over the limit. It was hard not to speed.

  “Where are we headed?” Elise asked. Good question. I hadn’t given it much thought, but then maybe I always knew where we would go. Otherwise, why get out onto Canal and then take the bridge south?

  “Do you mind South Square?”

  “No, that would be good.” How do I capture the inflection in her voice as she said “good”? It was certainly not “good” as in we will have a good time. It was not “good” as in I hear they have good food. It was more a “good” as in we have a project to get done today and it would be good if we can get it done by four. And it occurred to me we did have a project to complete in South Square – Elise and I – and it was good we get it finished. I suppose that is why I had turned in that direction in the first place.

  South Square had fewer people in it than I had ever seen, so parking should have been easy, but here I was with a brand new car, and I wanted plenty of room to make sure I didn’t get bumped by other cars as they got into or out of adjoining parking spaces. I drove a couple blocks and found an end spot with no other cars around. It meant walking a little extra, but that was fine. I took Elise’ hand and we walked to the Square, neither of us saying a word.

  In some ways the square looked as it had last summer. The restaurants were all open, and people were eating dinner outdoors. The Square looked like it might be used for dancing later. But I didn’t intend to stay that long. We would eat dinner, talk, and leave.

  I led the way to the restaurant where I had eaten with Margaret. The maitre D seated us, showing no sign of recognition. I was just one more customer. Good. Elise and I sat side by side, looking toward the open area of the square.

  “The big stage was set there,” I said, pointing to one side of the square. A smaller stage occupied the space now. Large speakers were positioned on the corners. It was ready for a band to perform, if one was scheduled for later. Elise looked in that direction, but said nothing.

  “Margaret’s apartment is there, across the square.” I continued. “Was it Henri who saw the men coming? Or did someone else call you and warn you?”

  “It was Henri.”

  “Thank you for that. It must have been an odd call to make – hi – you are with another woman - go to her apartment.”

  “I wanted you to be safe.”

  “When we got there, she got out a pistol, and she used a line I had first heard from you – When the Iroquois attack…”

  “Everyone is a warrior. Canadian girls learn that early.”

  “You both were trying to protect me.”

  “We both loved you.”

  “Elise,” I took her hand and looked into her eyes. “I loved Margaret, but we were never lovers. She was beautiful, and she was a good person. I cried when she was killed, and it hurts me to think of her now. But – and you need to know this. Her boss called her innocent. What he meant was she was politically innocent. She was too innocent to see just how wrong her party heroes were. Maybe he was right and she was innocent, maybe she was just wrong in her views. But it was a barrier between us. There was another barrier. Two years ago I was at a party and a beautiful woman took my hand. I loved her then, I love her now, and I will love her forever.”

  “Thank you. Now can we leave? What I want to do with you is best not done in public.” It is hard to limp and run at the same time, but I managed somehow, both of us holding hands and laughing as we hurried back to the car. And that American car? It got us back to the hotel in record time.