The Canadian Civil War: Volume 3 - West to the Wall

by William Wresch

Chapter 21

  Folks start plotting

  My big plan for the afternoon was to nap. I figured I had earned it. I finished lunch with the government guys, walked back to the hotel past the trucks and angry-men, and essentially kept my focus on one item – my room and my bed. Once there, I turned off my phone, took off my shoes, and dropped off to sleep the second my head hit the pillow.

  When I awoke, it was dark, but since the sun sets at four, that didn’t really mean much. So I was a bit surprised when I saw the clock in the room. I had slept until nine. Time for another buffalo burger. Except I checked my phone before I went downstairs and discovered one third of the people on planet earth had tried to reach me while I slept. The burger would have to wait.

  Which calls did I return? Elise, obviously. That call was a bit cryptic. She had something to tell me, but not over a cell phone. We agreed I would use the provincial office phone system in the morning. At least whatever the mystery was, it could wait until then.

  My sister was on the list, so I called her, only to get a lecture. What did I mean making mom worry so much? What was wrong with me? I wasn’t a kid any more. I should know better. By the way, are you safe? Oh well, at least that call was brief.

  Most of the rest of the names on the list were unknown to me, so I ignored them. Then I saw Marc’s name. His call I would return. What did he want? He wanted me to come to dinner to meet some people. Dinner was at eight. I called his number right away, apologized, and headed for his house.

  Walking over there, I recalled the first night I had visited. It had been what – maybe two weeks ago? My days were confused, but it felt far more distant than two weeks. I had been cold; they had been happy. What a night. This night was different. I felt it the minute I was in the house. Everyone was courteous, but the home was tense. It felt like people had been shouting before my arrival, and now maybe they were putting the best face on it.

  I counted six couples, but they were not the same six I had eaten with that first night. There was a mixture of old and new people. They had eaten most of their dinner and were still seated at the table I got the impression they had kept plates in front of them after I had called, not wanting me to eat alone.

  The hostess brought me a plate of food right away. I guessed she had put something in the microwave when Marc told her I would finally be coming over. In any case, it was ready and warm when I sat down.

  “I am very sorry to be so late.” I began. I am the master of the obvious. “I fell asleep this afternoon and didn’t get the call until just now.”

  “It’s not a problem. We are happy you could join us.” Marc’s wife was being the charming hostess, and she pulled it off pretty well. But somehow her smiles seemed somewhat dimmed from what I remembered. “Marc told us all about what you have been doing in the villages. And then a night in the police station? You certainly deserve some rest.”

  “The police station?” one of the men at the table asked. “I hadn’t heard about that.” Was there disapproval in his voice?

  “They had questions about what has been going on in the villages. We talked for a while, and then I have to admit I fell asleep in their conference room.” That drew a few chuckles and lightened the mood in the room a bit. I am always happy to provide comic relief.

  “Marc has been telling us you are recommending we abandon the city.” This was from one of the new guys. The disapproval was clear both from his tone of voice and choice of words. Maybe I should have felt challenged, but his position made perfect sense to me. Why leave just because some crazies show up at your doorstep?

  “Let the man eat,” a woman replied. I guessed his wife. Wives do have better manners than we do.

  “No, it’s a fair question,” I replied. “Why leave? Here’s the way I see it. Foster wants to start a civil war in Canada. We can talk about why if you wish, but I am pretty certain that is his goal. He was heavily involved with the Louisiana folks. I think he wants Louisiana and possibly Arkansas to secede.” I looked around the table at this point. Looks on their faces indicated this was news to them. Did they believe me? I couldn’t tell.

  “So you may be wondering, why is he here? The short answer is I don’t know. Somehow, getting a fight started in Dakota helps him in his plan. I also don’t know how he managed to get these desert rats to follow him. But he has. Now that they are here, he will use them.”

  “But we have an army for such things.” This was the first guy again. “They could clear these thugs out of town in a day.”

  “I can think of at least two problems with that.” I said. “First, they have done nothing illegal so far. So, what would the army do? More importantly, I think Foster wants us to bring in the army – the more the better. It would be a proxy civil war would it not? He has Canadian troops deployed in Canada against Canadians. Maybe they fight the thugs, maybe the Sioux, maybe both. Either way, Foster wins. He has his war.”

  I won’t detail the rest of the conversation. It went on for the next couple hours and it was impassioned. They had kids to worry about, so getting out of harm’s way made sense. But they had homes to protect, so staying made sense too. Would they just leave the town to the mercies of these angry men? And what would happen to those who would not or could not leave? There was lots to be said. At a normal dinner the cognac would have come out at some point after the pie, and we would have retreated to another room. Not that night. We stayed at the table, drank coffee, and talked. Did we reach any conclusions? No. I got the sense that each couple would have much more to say to each other after they got home. This would be a family decision, and not all families would choose the same alternative.

  The evening finally broke up around midnight. Couples left after big hugs all around and a few tears. You got the sense they were already saying goodbye. And maybe they were. I started to say my goodbyes, but Marc asked me to stay.

  “We need to talk a bit.” He motioned me into a small sitting room. “And Nicole needs to hear this too.” That drew an inquisitive look from his wife. They sat together on a small couch, and I took a stuffed chair opposite.

  “Since you are recommending we leave the city, I thought you should know about some attitudes here.” Marc began. “I am speaking now as a Sioux.” He stopped and looked briefly at his wife before continuing. “As a Sioux, we would love to see this city abandoned.”

  “What? Why?” Nicole turned her whole body to face him.

  “This city has always been a danger to us. You talk about Foster’s plots? We have our own plots. Sioux survival depends upon us being left alone as much as possible. When the French started building their military highway west, we did what we could to keep it as far south as possible, but there was already a settlement in DeSmet, so we knew it would connect here. We could not stop it, although it would have been better if we had.”

  “You mean the national highway, right?” Nicole asked.

  “We call it a national highway, and it is used more to get skiers to the mountains that anything else, but it is really a military highway. Did you know every bridge over the highway has to be high enough so a tank on a tank carrier can fit underneath?” Nicole shook her head.

  “The point of the highway is to move troops to the mountains should we be attacked by Oregon or California.”

  “Or the U.S.” I added.

  “Yes, or the U.S. That is the main purpose of the national highway system, although it also serves to move trucks for business and people for pleasure. We knew there would be a highway west, and we knew there would be no way to stop it. The French had a right to protect themselves, and as Canadian citizens, we Sioux can hardly object. The highway system is required, so it was built, and we did not stand in the way.”

  “But what does that have to do with abandoning DeSmet?” Nicole asked.

  “The history of Indian tribes along highways has not been very good. The Fox were ex
terminated. The Mandans are nearly gone, not from war, but from smallpox. If you get too close to the French, you die. Sorry, honey.” They held hands at this point. I squirmed a bit, but I could see where they needed to make some connection after what was clearly a breech. He was Sioux; she was French from back east somewhere. They did have their differences. These events were making those differences more obvious. Leave it to Foster.

  “I understand that, but let me repeat Nicole’s question, if I may.” Maybe it was the late hour, but I was having trouble making the connection. “You manage somehow, maybe negotiations, maybe bureaucratic delays, but you get the highway built as far south as possible, with all your villages to the north. But there is one city in your province along the road – DeSmet. How is it a problem?”

  “It is a problem, in part because it is necessary. Tribes always traded with the French and the English, and the Spanish when they were around. We needed metal tools, you needed animal skins. You gave us blankets, we gave you corn and later wheat. So there were trading posts, and then forts, and then cities. Sault St. Marie, Green Bay, Kaskaskia, and all the others followed the same process. But you also gave us small pox and whiskey. Sometimes you gave us guns, sometimes you shot us. You get the idea. Each city is necessary, but risky.”

  “So you try to reduce the risk.”

  “Yes. We have had three centuries to work out the balance. These days we get lots of products, access to schools, medical care, and sometimes beautiful women.” Obviously he was looking at Nicole as he said this. She accepted the implied apology with a slight smile.

  “But we still get too much whiskey, strange cultural values, and periodically, very dangerous men. So you can see why at least the Sioux who live here would be happy to see the city empty at least for a little while. We’d come back when we need to replace our cell phones, or our trucks need new tires, but for a while, having all this gone would be a relief.”

  “Twenty two years of marriage, and now I hear all this?”

  “Twenty two years ago I should have just carried you off to my village. You’d be queen of the place by now. But I think this has worked, don’t you? Living in the middle? The kids get both cultures, and I get you.”

  I could see where this was heading, and I didn’t want to be in the way. I mumbled something like, “Thanks, see you in the morning,” and I got out pretty fast. I’m not sure they even saw me leave. You have to give Marc credit. He was pretty smooth.