 
DAVID SHATH SQUARE Chapter Forty-one
That night the wind rose to a tempest. All the men, except my father, had come inside and ranged themselves along the walls, covering themselves with hides or blankets or whatever they had brought with them.
Once, in the middle of the night, Thoreena called out something like "Mother, I see you." But I couldn't be sure.
Much later, my father came in. He was covered with snow from the blizzard that raged outside. I watched as he brushed himself off, then found a clear space on the floor on which to lie down. He covered himself with a hide and went to sleep.
I lay awake, listened to the wind that forced its way through every crack in the cabin and deposited wisps of white snow on the plank floor. The cookstove glowed, but even its bright heat was insufficient to beat back the creeping tendrils of cold that infiltrated the room.
While I pressed my body close to Thoreena's to keep the fingers of cold from clawing back into her warming body, I thought about my father and what he had told me about his struggle to save my mother. I felt guilty about calling him a Judas, a coward, a nancy-boy.
In fact he was a courageous, loyal husband who had sacrificed his self-esteem on a selfless, yet ill-considered plan to save his beloved wife. It was a tragic story.
I found myself wondering how I would react if Thoreena were dying. The thought was so appalling that I tried to erase it from my mind. But somehow it crept back, again and again, like a bad dream that slithers out of a cold void, holds the mind in icy, unforgiving fingers.
My terrible thoughts were interrupted by a small voice, barely a whisper in the darkness of the cabin.
The small voice said, "Hardy, where am I? Why is it so dark? Where's the baby?"
"Thoreena, you're awake!" My voice was loud enough to waken all the men in the cabin.
I wrapped my arms around Thoreena's neck, kissed her solidly on the lips. By this time, the entire cabin was in disarray: men pulled themselves back from the edge of sleep to marvel at Thoreena's recovery.
"Hell's bells," my grandfather said. "I knowed that little filly was tough."
The only person not excited by Thoreena's return to consciousness was my father. He lay under his hide cover, contemplated the scene, looked sad and serious.
Lee Chang brought Hilda over to where Thoreena lay and placed the sleeping child on her mother's breast.
With an effort, Thoreena held the child close, ran her fingers through the baby's silky, blond hair. Thoreena seemed remarkably lucid and free of pain for a person who had undergone such a terrible ordeal.
"Oh, Hardy. We really do have a baby girl! I was afraid she might be just a beautiful dream."
I moved closer to Thoreena, stroked her face and forehead. Although her skin looked like cool white ivory, it was hot to my touch.
"We'll have a wonderful life together when we get back to the Pointe," I said, continuing to caress her pale, hot face.
"Yes we will, Hardy. Remember the nursery we talked about for Hilda...a rocking chair, a pink crib and lots of stuffed toys?"
"Of course, I remember," I said. "It will be the most magnificent nursery in the world with satin sheets, soft pillows, and fancy dolls with embroidered dresses. We'll be the happiest family..."
As I said it, something made me turn and look at my father. He stared at me, his eyes compassionate yet disturbed. He stood up, motioned for me to follow him to the cabin door.
We had trouble getting out because the blizzard had heaped snow against the door, which swung outward. It took both our shoulders to force it open.
Outside, fresh snow lay in six-foot drifts. The first fingers of dawn had crept into the bitter eastern sky, yet it was difficult to discern a horizon in the white-out.
My father didn't waste time coming to the point.
"Hardy, I don't want to tell you your business. But you've been brutally honest with me, so now I'm going to do the same for you."
Even though we stood close, I could just make out his voice and figure in the driving snow.
"Don't give Thoreena any false hope," he said. " Don't make any promises you can't keep, that you may regret later."
"What do you mean, later?"
"I mean Thoreena is probably going to die. Unless this storm abates quickly, we're stuck here for a couple of days and she needs proper medical attention right away."
I knew in my heart that my father was right. But I couldn't make myself face the reality of life without Thoreena. We had been through so much together, it seemed impossible that she could be removed from my life as easily as a beautiful, powerful poem is erased from a piece of parchment.
"She's not going to die," I said.
"Be realistic, Hardy."
"I am being realistic. I know she's not going to die."
"If that's how you truly feel, then go ahead and tell her anything you like. Only remember words have consequences. What she needs right now is you by her side. Just hold her, tell her you love her, but don't give her false hope."
I turned my face into the blizzard. The snowflakes melted on my face and fell to the ground like tears as I considered what my father had said. He was right. He had suffered a similar fate. I had to be strong for Thoreena.
"Okay," I said. "You're right. You win."
"Hardy, this isn't a contest. I'm not trying to beat you. I'm trying to tell you something that I learned the hard way. Don't make the same mistake I did."
He stepped close, wrapped his arms around me and said "I love you, son."
"I love you too, Dad."
It sounded kind of funny. It was the first time in my life I had called him dad.
To Chapter Forty-two
Copyright © 2001 David Square/Log Cabin Chronicles/03.01 |
