 
DAVID SHATH SQUARE Chapter Twenty-nine
"Mr. Jude, come quickly. Mr. Jeb. He wake up."
"Hold on Lee Chang. Are you sure he's waking up? He's been in a coma for months. The Doc has pretty much given up on him."
The Chinaman grabbed my father's hand and hauled him into the bedroom where my grandfather lay on a four poster bed. He was almost completely covered with a down comforter. Only the top of his head and his eyes were visible. His head moved back and forth and his eyes blinked in the daylight that flooded the room from a large casement window.
"Hell's bells, if that weren't the worst nightmare a feller could imagine," he said. "Is that you Jude. Lee Chang?"
"We here, Mr. Jeb!" The Chinaman was so excited that he kissed my grandfather on his forehead.
"Arghh. Don't do that. I just dreamed that I died and went to heaven where I was confronted by all my previous wives. They were grabbin' at me. Tryin' to kiss me. Scared me so bad that I decided heaven ain't all it's cracked up to be. Decided to return home."
My father and Lee Chang looked at each other. They couldn't decide if my grandfather was hallucinating or had gone completely insane during his months in the coma.
"Where is everyone? Where's Zack. Where's the dog. Where's that pretty girlfriend of Zack's, Thoreena. And what the hell am I doing in bed?"
"Hold on, Jeb," said my father. "You've got a lot of catching up to do. You've been sick with pneumonia for a long time. We'd pretty much given up on you."
"Given up. Given up! Why that does sound like you, Judas. Give up when the going gets a bit rough," my grandfather said with derision.
My father didn't say anything even though he knew it was a direct reference to my mother and the illness from which she never recovered.
"Mr. Jeb, Mr Jude. Let not fight. Mr. Jeb must conserve energy before he hear rest of story," the Chinaman said.
"What rest of the story?" my grandfather demanded.
Lee Chang and my father looked at each other again. They weren't sure how much to tell my grandfather about Thoreena and myself for fear he might relapse into a coma if he heard all the details at once.
"Do I look like I'm made of glass? Do you think I'm gonna shatter if you tell me some news?" he said.
My father and Lee Chang began with the jitney episode where my grandfather had nearly drowned because of his untied shoelaces. He seemed to recall the first part of the story, but he began to draw a blank after they mentioned the pint of homebrew. They told him how he had been rescued by the Swede and then left to fend for himself because of his abusive behaviour, no doubt triggered by humiliation and 200-proof alcohol.
Then they told him how early next morning workers on their way to the Hydro Plant had discovered him lying by the side of the tracks near the jitney garage. He had evidently wandered all night. When they found him, he was shivering and hallucinating, saying something about his wives calling him to heaven. The men carried him to the garage and called Doc MacBrew. The Doc had diagnosed hypothermia with a good chance of pneumonia to follow.
"He's a tough old buzzard, but I don't think he'll last the week," said Doc MacBrew, withdrawing a silver flask from his vest pocket and taking a long swig of brandy.
My father and Lee Chang told my grandfather how they had carried him to his house and put him to bed surrounded by hot water bottles with a mustard plaster on his chest to ease the pneumonia. He was delirious the first day and then lapsed into a coma from which he was not expected to recover. But he did.
"Well, I reckon I showed old doc MacBrew I'm a survivor," said my grandfather. "How long I been under, 'bout a week?"
Again, my father and Lee Chang exchanged glances.
"Mr. Jeb you are in coma for seven months," said Lee Chang.
"Seven months! Don't bull an old trooper like me."
"He's not kidding, Jeb," said my father. "You became ill in August and now it's March."
For once in his life, my grandfather was at a loss for words. He stared out the window: Snow covered the ground; a hare bounded across the surface and a flock of grosbeaks fought over a handful of black sunflower seeds that had fallen from a feeder onto the snow.
My grandfather tried to get out of bed for a closer look, but his legs lacked the strength to support his weight.
"Damnation, I'm weak and skinny as an old bear after a long hibernation. Didn't you boys feed me anything while I was restin'?"
"Fluids and antibiotics that Doc MacBrew fetched from Lac du Bonnet every week," said my father. "And Lee Chang sat at your bedside every night and read you Zane Grey and Louis L'Amour stories."
"Well, I'm obliged, Lee Chang," said my grandfather, who wasn't known for prolonged thank yous.
"Now where's Zach and Thoreena and the dog. I miss getting my face washed by the dog's tongue every mornin'."
My father and Lee Chang exchanged glances for a final time.
"We want you to have some chicken broth and a little solid food before we tell you about them," my father said. "And you need short daily walks to build up your muscles."
Just then Doc MacBrew entered the room for his weekly visit.
"Well I'll be. Jeb Stricker if you ain't going down in the medical history book as the man who cheated Mr. Hades out of a sure thing."
"Can your Greek mythology, Doc, and give me a pull on that brandy flask I know you've got hidden in your vest pocket."
The arrival of Doc Mac Brew and his famous flask provided sufficient diversion to keep my grandfather's mind off of me and Thoreena and Shadow. But not for long.
To Chapter Thirty
Copyright © 2000 David Square/Log Cabin Chronicles/02.2000 |
