The Canadian Civil War: Volume 4 - Mississippi Beast

by William Wresch

Chapter 12 –

  Green Bay isn’t much fun either

  I stayed two more days in Philadelphia. Why declare a disaster and then run? I at least waited until my siblings had a start on their strategy and answered questions they might have. By way of penance, I also worked one day on the warehouse floor, moving some freight that had gotten backed up. It’s been years since I have been there, but I can still use a floor jack. It was pretty meager repayment for all the grief I had caused, but meager repayment is better than no repayment – I hoped.

  Evenings we had long dinners. One night we went out to a movie – mom, dad, and me. Another night we just talked. I called Elise every night. She always took my call, even if she was in a meeting. I took that as a sign that maybe things were not all that bad.

  Finally I flew back to Green Bay. Elise was waiting for me at the airport. One look at her face told me there was trouble. “Uncle Claude is much worse.” I suggested we go straight to the hospital to see him, but apparently that was not an option. “They are running test after test after test…” There was frustration and fatigue in her voice. All I could do was stand and hug her. Eventually we got in her car and drove home. Gustav was gone. In his place were lots of lights that seemed to come on at random times night and day. If goofy lights provided security, we were as safe as could be. Inside, two of the window frames had been broken when they put in shatter-resistant glass. One more example of French craftsmanship. The terrorists would probably do more damage to my house than the security firm, but the difference might not be that great.

  So that is where the argument started. Elise was very upset, and I was very upset and irritated. She wanted to talk about Uncle Claude, and so did I, but it only took a few minutes before I started a conversation that probably should have waited.

  “Someone in your government is working for the Foster Brothers.” Hmm. Could I have said that in a less confrontational tone?

  “That’s crazy.” Could she have been more open to my information? “No one would work for him. He killed a dozen men in Dakota.”

  “He knows I suggested the permit denial for that mining project, and now he is coming after my family’s business.”

  “How would he know that?”

  “I told you. Someone in your government talked.” Repeating yourself is the surest sign an argument is accelerating fast.

  “That would never happen.”

  “It happened.” We were standing in the front hallway having this stupid argument. Outside one of the lights came on. I stared out at the empty lawn, too angry to talk. At least I was too angry to talk momentarily. Then I let loose again. “When do they plan to come back and fix these damn lights?”

  “They thought they might be back today. I guess they got busy.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I will fly an electrician in from Philadelphia, and we will get the job done right.”

  “Those are government lights.”

  “This is my house.” It doesn’t take a genius to know when you have crossed the line. Elise looked like I had just slapped her. I shut my mouth (ten minutes later than I should have), dropped my hands to my sides, and slowed my breathing. What the hell was wrong with me? “I am so sorry.”

  “Let’s sit down.” She led the way into the living room and sat on the couch. That was a good sign. She was going to let me sit next to her. I sat and said nothing while I caught my breath.

  “I am afraid of what I have done to my family,” I began. I made an effort to slow my speech. “There is lots going on that annoys me. There are guns in my car and no one asks or tells me. My house – our house - is rewired by incompetents. I can live with that; I can adjust. Even the shooting two weeks ago, as strange as it sounds, I can deal with that, mostly because it never seemed real. It was like I had walked into a movie. It was bad, but then it was over. But this, to think I have put my family at risk, that they might lose the business and all be bankrupt. Well, the guilt is killing me.”

  “I will check to see if anyone talked about the mining permit idea you had, but Shawn, Foster had lots of reasons to go after you long before this. You saw him abandon ship at Biloxi, and you watched him driven out of DeSmet, chased out by his own men. He’s had lots of reasons to come after you. Maybe all that happened is you landed the first punch.”

  “I fear it may be the last punch. The Foster family has companies all over the world, and thousands more employees than we do. They have financial and legal resources we can’t match.”

  “You have a very successful family, Shawn. Don’t sell them short. And” she paused here and made sure I was looking at her while she finished the sentence. “You have friends. You won’t be in this fight alone.” At this point we held hands, and the world seemed a much better place.

  “Thank you. But seriously, do you mind if I fly in an electrician? The lights are driving me crazy. The one over there by the blue spruce keeps popping on like a strobe light.” I stood to point it out just as the south windows exploded. I was knocked half way across the room and nearly deafened by the explosion. All the lights went out, not that I could see anything anyway with all the dust and smoke in the air. I made an effort to move, but it was like none of my limbs would take orders from my brain.

  “Shawn.” I could hear Elise’s voice, but it seemed miles away. And it was hidden under the noise of a klaxon that was making an incredible “uuunk uuuunk” noise. It had to be hundreds of decibels. Where was that coming from? Also, barely audible under that terrible klaxon noise, I could hear shooting – lots of it. I also started hearing sirens. Hopefully the good guys were on their way. There wasn’t much I was going to do about anything. I managed to get one hand to move enough to shield my head. Other than that, I just lay there and concentrated on my breathing.

  Time passed. I thought I heard Elise moving around in the room. The shooting continued, although it soon moved into a rhythm, with moments of single shots followed by longer stretches of massive fire. Through it all was that incredible klaxon and the wail of sirens. I think I fell asleep for a while, or maybe I was just day dreaming. But I had the sense that time was passing.

  Then the klaxon stopped. There were still sirens in the background, and some shooting, but with the klaxon silenced it felt like I had suddenly lost my hearing. As much as I hated that sound, it was now disorienting to lose it. I tried to move again and found that now one of my legs would obey orders. I pulled it up to my chest. The fetal position seemed the most appropriate at the moment.

  A large light moved up to the back of the house, and I wondered if this was when the bad guys came in to finish us off.

  “Shawn? Minister? It’s Gustav. I’m coming in.” With his light now making things visible, it was clear getting in would not be a problem. He just walked through the hole where the south wall had been. “Minister?” He probed through the house with his light. It took a few sweeps before he found Elise, kneeling behind an over turned table with a rifle in hand. Where had that been? “Don’t either of you move. We think we have them, but we will wait until more men arrive and we have finished our search.”

  “I think Shawn is hurt.” Elsie pointed with the rifle in my direction.

  “I’m oak.” My words weren’t responding to my brain any better than my limbs were. It took three tries for me to get “Okay” to come out, and even then it sounded more like a frog croaking. Gustav knelt down next to me and used his light to see where I was hurt. Then he felt over my body and limbs to see if anything was protruding.

  “I’m guessing head trauma. I don’t see anything else. No blood, no breaks.” He got on his phone and made a call to medics, repeating the same observations he had just made. I could hear most of their response. Unsurprisingly, they told him not to move me, and to put a blanket over me. That seemed like good advice, but in the meantime, I was interested to see if I could move myself. I twisted to one side and found
I could move my other arm. Three out of four. Not bad. And my other leg? I had landed on it. Now I rolled my weight off it, and suddenly it could move too. I was so happy I almost cried.

  “Hold still, Shawn. They want to make sure you have no spinal injuries.”

  “Mo too.” Hmm. Could you have a mouth injury? But it appeared I could sort of move and sort of talk. Not bad for a guy who had been blown up in his own house. Elise knelt down next to me, her back in my direction and her rifle pointed out the open wall.

  “Damn it, Shawn, hold still. Let the medics do their job.”

  “I was going to redo that wall anyway.”

  “What?” This from both Elise and Gustav.

  “The wall was out of plumb, never insulated, and the windows let in more air than they kept out.” At least that is what I tried to say. What came out was a mixture of vowels and consonants. At least Elsie understood most of what I said.

  “He has been rebuilding the house.” She explained to Gustav. “He does it himself. Now he wants to rebuild that wall.”

  “Okay.” Gustav didn’t seem to be following, but then he was also listening to reports on his police radio. There had been no shots fired in several minutes, and fewer sirens seemed to be approaching the neighborhood. Was this all over? It would be great if it was, because I really wanted to get some sleep. I closed my eyes for just a second, only to have Gustav slap my hand. “They say you can’t go to sleep. They want to check you for concussion.”

  “Tell them to hurry up so I can sleep.” I think at least the words “hurry” and “sleep” were understandable. Gustav got on his radio and had a longer conversation with the medics. They said they were close. More lights came in through the back wall, and then the medics, and then Elise’s father. Turns out sharing backyards with a doctor is a pretty good idea. He went to Elise first, and checked her out, then he joined the medics who were hovering over me. I had lots of lights shined in my eyes. They said they were trying to check for a concussion, I think they were trying to blind me. Eventually they brought in a gurney and put me on it. It was really soft. I closed my eyes, and this time they let me.