 
DAVID SHATH SQUARE Chapter Thirty-One
Thoreena and I had plenty of time to discuss things as the winter wore on. She was curious about my relationship with my father and my mother.
A lot of people had heard rumors about their relationship. In a small town, it's difficult to keep anything secret. I was only too ready to talk about my past and the things that troubled me.
"So, Hardy," she said, sewing by a beam of sunlight that shone through a shutter. "Tell me about your parents."
"There's not much to tell. My mother died. The whole time she was dying my father hardly set foot in the house. He was having an affair with Myron Mann."
Thoreena looked up from her work.
"You told me that, but I can't believe it. Your father always seemed devoted to your mother. And he doesn't seem the type to be a homosexual."
"What type is that?"
"The stereotype, I guess. The lisp, the dramatic gestures, the clothes, and the doily collection."
I had to laugh at the doily collection.
"No. He doesn't have a doily collection. And if he did, my grandfather would burn it."
"Then how can you be so sure your father's a homosexual?"
"It's a gut feeling. Whenever I see him with Myron Mann I get this queasy feeling in my stomach -- like whatever's between them is more than just friendship. It makes me want to vomit."
"Maybe they're just friends."
I got up from the grass bed on which I had been lounging and walked to the hot cook stove that glowed red in the dark cabin. I was dressed in my new buckskin clothes and the heat in the cabin was stifling. I closed one of the air vents to retard the fire.
"I once saw them walking arm in arm," I said. "My father seemed very distressed. And suddenly Myron kissed him."
"On the lips!"
"No. On the forehead. But he kissed him."
"Hell's bells, Hardy. That hardly makes them lovers."
"You have to admit that makes them weird."
"What's weird? Men are capable of emotion, too. Perhaps your father was upset about your mother and needed someone to confide in."
"I doubt that. My father never confided in anyone."
"Did you ever confide in your father?"
Thoreena had me on that point.
"No. But he never gave me the opportunity."
"Maybe you never gave him the chance?"
Damn, I thought. Sometimes it can be difficult to talk with women.
"You don't get it, Thoreena. As far as my father is concerned, I'm just a piece of property that he can manipulate at will with his beloved home-schooling. And my mother loved him, but he didn't have the decency to stay by her side as she died."
Thoreena continued sewing. She was making a warm carrying bag for the baby. The garment was fringed with soft, white rabbit fur; the interior lined with grouse down.
"Hardy," she finally said. "Have you considered you can love a person too much. That if you had to watch that person die, it might break your heart and your faith."
I couldn't think of a reply.
"Do you love me, Hardy?"
"Of course."
"Do you think you could watch me die?"
"Don't say such a thing!"
"Well?"
I thought about it. I remembered when Thoreena had almost drowned in the lake. I recalled my panic, my fear, the knot in my stomach. The recollection made me want to retch.
"I'm going out," I said.
I had fashioned some hinges of leather and cleared the snow so the door opened and closed without difficulty. Outside, the sky was pale blue and the snow pure white, except for areas where Shadow and the wolves had marked their territory with urine.
Shadow was lying in close to a yellow spot in the snow enjoying the warmth of the sun. He got up and followed me down to the lake. The March sun was hot enough to cause patches of water to form on the surface, although the ice looked thick enough to support weight.
Far out on the lake, I could see the wolf pack. The alpha male was being chased across the ice by the rest of the pack. As the smaller wolves closed in on the big leader, he gripped the ice with his claws, slid to a halt and then bolted off in the opposite direction. The rest of the pack skidded past their leader, tumbling over each other in their attempt to change direction and continue the chase.
At first I couldn't believe my eyes, but the more I watched the more convinced I became that they were playing.
The game continued back and forth across the ice until one of the wolves, it looked like the beta female, broke threw a watery patch and disappeared from sight. The pack gathered around the hole and howled. In seconds, I could see a head bobbing in the water as the swimming female desperately attempted to hook her front paws on the ragged edge of the hole and haul herself out of the water.
As she struggled, the alpha gripped her by the rough of the neck with his jaws and hauled her the rest of the way to safety. Standing on solid ice, she shook herself dry while the rest of the pack crowded round and licked the last of the icy water from her coat. After that, the game ended and the wolves retreated from the lake.
I watched the episode in astonishment. How could animals be capable of such human behavior? In those few brief moments, I had watched them express joy, bravery and love.
If animals were capable of such emotion, maybe Thoreena was right when she said it was possible to love a person too much?
I loved Thoreena, but my love for her had never been put to the final test. Could I watch her die? To be continued...
To Chapter Thirty-two
Copyright © 2000 David Square/Log Cabin Chronicles/04.2000 |
