The Canadian Civil War: Volume 5 - Carbines and Calumets

  Chapter 30 –

  Silence is not golden

  The walk to Baton Rouge took about two hours. Elise never said a word. At one point I reached for her hand, but she just shook my hand a way. She put one foot in front of the other, stared straight ahead, and walked. The road was deserted. We found road blocks just outside town keeping cars and people off the highway. It was probably just as well. I think Elise might have hurt someone had they approached us.

  When we got to town, we moved onto a sidewalk rather than the road, but we kept walking. We walked clear through town, onto the bridge over the Mississippi, and still we kept walking. Another hour passed. We kept walking. The sun began to get low in the sky. We kept walking. I was beginning to wonder if we would walk all the way to Lafayette, when an Interior Ministry car pulled up along side us. The driver was a young man who stopped the car, ran around to open a back door, and stood waiting. He didn't say a word, Elise didn't say a word. She got in, I got in, I said "thank you." and we drove off.

  I am not sure Elise would have said anything that day, but as we rode along, I massaged my leg wound. Blood appeared on my pants. The walking might have been good exercise, but we had overdone it.

  "Can you get us to a pharmacy?" she asked the driver. "We need bandages." He said he would look for one in the next town.

  "How long have you been bleeding?" she asked me.

  "Not long."

  "I'm sorry. I forgot about your leg."

  "I understand."

  "All your drugs are in the car."

  "So are all our clothes."

  "It was a good car."

  "It moved fast when we needed it to." I had had several hours as we walked to think of something to tell the leasing company. So far I had come up with nothing. I didn't think Force Majeure would work a second time. But I had bigger problems. Elise was in pain. "It might be better not to go all the way to Lafayette tonight. It might be better to take some time."

  "Yes." She took my hand. I can't tell you how relieved I felt that she would make that gesture.

  The driver pulled off the highway into a small town shopping center. I gave Elise my wallet, and she and the driver went in to get the bandages. Apparently she also talked the pharmacist into some emergency antibiotics. When they came out I pulled down my pants and she rewrapped my leg. It wasn't really all that bad. There was just a trickle of blood coming from one edge of the wound. I pulled my pants back up, but stayed in the car while the two of them did more shopping -- clothes, tooth brushes, whatever else she thought we needed.

  Then we were off to a local hotel. I limped in behind Elise. She got us a room, and one for the driver. She also ordered room service dinner right away. It was a modern -- just-off-the-highway generic hotel with no real character, but it did have an elevator. I was grateful. We ate in the room, drank a bottle of wine and several gallons of water. When we got undressed for bed I noticed Elise' feet were bleeding. She said nothing; I said nothing. We dropped off to sleep in seconds.

  The next morning we lay in bed for a long time. Then we showered and put bandages on my wounds and her feet. I joked that the new clothes made me look Canadian again, and she smiled. I ordered breakfast brought up to the room. A newspaper came on the tray, but we ignored it. The room had a small balcony, and we sat out there for a while. Hours passed. She asked about my wound; I asked about her feet. We watched traffic go by on the highway.

  At one point the driver came by the room and asked if we wanted to be taken anywhere. Elise said "no." Then he said a number of people had asked if she would be taking any calls today. She said "no." He left, and we went back out to the balcony. Later a cleaning lady came by. I apologized for the blood on the sheets and gave her a number of francs. After the bed was made up we laid down and took a nap that lasted most of the afternoon.

  Early in the evening our driver was back at our door. This time he had a cell phone that he handed to me. He said my family had been trying to reach me. I called Catherine. She was crying. She said the family was petrified. The leasing company had called after my car had been towed into town. When they described all the bullet damage, the family had feared the worst. I wasn't sure how to describe what had happened to the car. I said we were fine. We were resting in a hotel. I wasn't sure exactly where we were, but we might be here a couple days. I said we were safe. The ministry had a driver who would take us to a meeting in Lafayette in a day or two. I would call then.

  Later in the evening we took the elevator down to the lobby to get some dinner. I could see that Elise's feet hurt her, but I was pleased she was willing to leave the room. We were seated at a table in the corner. We ordered wine and the special of the day. The hotel was generic and so was the food, but being out in a restaurant felt like progress somehow. I took her hand, and she let me. I complained about the fit of my Canadian shirt, and she smiled. We both ate everything they put in front of us and even had dessert.

  Back in our room we went straight to bed. Elise laid her head on my chest and cried for a very long time. I held her and felt better the longer she cried. Eventually she fell asleep. I was fairly confident she was recovering.