 
DAVID SHATH SQUARE Chapter Forty-three
The blizzard raged for three days. The morning of the fourth, the sky cleared and the sun showed its bright face. It was a relief for the men to get out of the cabin, to bask in the sun's warmth.
With so many mouths to feed, provisions were getting low and the men were anxious to return to their families in the Pointe.
A council was held in a circle of snow that had been cleared by the men so the dogsled could be loaded when the time came to leave.
My father said, "There's no point in all of us staying here. People at the Pointe will be worried and someone needs to get word back to them."
There was a murmur of agreement from the assembled men.
"Hardy, Jeb, Lee Chang, and Myron will stay behind with me until it's safe to move Thoreena and the Swede on the dogsled. You have snowshoes so you can get home even in this snow, but it's not going to be an easy trek."
The men began to pack their belongings to prepare for the arduous journey home. As they left, each one shook my hand and wished me luck. As I watched them trudge through the heavy snow, I was envious. They were returning to families and loved ones. I, on the other hand, had to return to the dismal cabin where my wife lay ill on a grass mattress.
I had tried to remain optimistic, but with each passing day Thoreena's condition had gotten worse. Each time we tried to feed her a little broth, she retched it up. Water was the only thing she could keep down, and even then she had to take it in tiny sips.
She had become emaciated to the point that I could barely recognize her as the powerful young woman I called my wife. At times, I'm ashamed to admit, I was repulsed by her wretched body and scraggly hair. At other times, when she was screaming in pain, when the morphine had worn off, I wanted to take her in my arms and end her suffering by squeezing the life out of her.
But did I want to end her suffering for me or for her? It's one thing to love a person when she is young and healthy, but it's quite another when her body and mind have been ravaged by sickness.
I lingered outside in the sunshine with my father and Shadow, reluctant to return to Thoreena's side. Lee Chang had gone inside to feed Hilda.
Suddenly he was back at the door. "Mr. Hardy, come quick. Miss Thoreena eat some broth. She look much better."
I raced into the cabin. Thoreena, her head propped on a folded blanket for a pillow, did indeed look better. Her eyes were clear, the stress lines on her face had almost disappeared, and her complexion was normal. Lee Chang had placed Hilda in her mother's arms.
Thoreena smiled at me. "Hello, Hardy. Aren't you going to spend some time with your wife and daughter."
"Thoreena, your mind is clear. And you look better. This is wonderful."
I sat down beside Thoreena, put my arm around her shoulders so I could caress the baby's head, as well as comfort Thoreena.
"Don't we make a handsome family, Hardy?"
"Yes, we do. A very handsome family."
"I'm glad you think so because I want to live with you and Hilda forever."
"Well, forever is a long time, Thoreena. Perhaps we shouldn't think about the future and just enjoy this moment together."
Thoreena gave me a strange look.
"That's an odd thing to say. Do you think I'm going to die?"
"Well...you gave us quite a scare. You've been feverish and delirious for four days."
"Nonsense, I'm a healthy young mother and I don't intend to leave my daughter or my husband to fend for themselves."
"Of course you don't. Let's just lie back and savour the present, forget the future. You've been through a hell of an ordeal."
Thoreena seemed satisfied. We lay on the mattress with Hilda between us. It was the last happy moment that we would know as a family.
Several hours later, my father entered the cabin. I had fallen asleep beside Thoreena and the baby.
He shook me awake gently.
"Hardy, get up. We've got to talk."
I got up reluctantly and went outside with my father. It was dark and cold.
"Hardy, we're out of penicillin. Doc MacBrew was generous with the morphine, but he skimped on the penicillin, probably because its expensive and hard to get."
Hell's bells, I thought to myself, just as Thoreena was getting better, this had to happen.
"What are we going to do?"
"I don't know, Hardy. Perhaps we should try to move her at first light. She's a lot stronger than she was a few days ago."
"Okay," I made my decision, "let's get out of here in the morning."
I returned to the cabin where Thoreena and the baby continued to sleep Lee Chang was at the cookstove preparing more broth for Thoreena and a bottle of condensed milk for Hilda. The Swede still sat propped against the wall. He hadn't spoken or eaten in several days. My grandfather and Myron Mann played poker with a grimy deck of cards my grandfather carried with him.
I lay down beside Thoreena. The baby had started to cry and Lee Chang had taken her to the other side of the cabin to be fed. When I put my hand on Thoreena's forehead, I was surprised at how hot it felt. Her fever was on the rise again. I cursed Doc MacBrew for not providing us with an adequate supply of penicillin.
By midnight, Thoreena was delirious, her body covered in sweat. She writhed under the covers, muttering incoherent phrases about the baby and her mother, the kind Indian woman.
In the dull lantern's light, I could discern the pallour of Thoreena's skin. It was of parchment, the pain lines had returned, extending from her eyes, over her cheekbones to the base of her neck. The strong young women once again resembled a sick old woman. And once again I was ashamed of my reaction to her plight -- revulsion, anger, and a desire to flee from her.
I let go her hand, got up and made my way outside. In the moonlight of a cool March night, my father sat on a snowbank, smoked a cigarette and sipped a flask of whiskey. He looked up when I approached, flicked his cigarette ash into the snow.
"Hardy, I thought you'd be with Thoreena?"
"I can't do this thing."
He looked up, the big dipper extant in the late night sky.
"Yes, you can Hardy."
"I never thought anything could be so difficult. I love her. And yet I can't watch her die."
My father ground his cigarette with the heel of his boot.
"Don't give up now. You've both come such a long way. Don't have regrets, son. Walk into that cabin, take her hand...tell her you love her."
I looked up, the night sky deep and mysterious: planets, stars, the northern lights: they raged out there, incomprehensible, beautiful, a theatre created by the unknown for the delight of the universe. Who was I, in the light of such beauty, to question the unknown's wisdom. Who was I to indulge in such sorrow, such sadness?
I stood up, said goodnight to my father and re-entered the cabin.
Thoreena seemed lucid, the fever temporarily in remission. But when I looked into her eyes, I could see that she was still delirious, not of her right mind. She had propped herself against a thick wool blanket of my father's that served as a pillow.
"Hello, Hardy."
"Thoreena?"
"I want you to tell me the truth, Hardy. Have you been giving me drugs so you can take advantage of me?"
"No. Of course not."
I took her hand in mine.
"Why, then?"
"Because I don't want you to die."
"Am I going to die?"
"Yes."
"I don't want to die."
"We're all going to die, Thoreena."
"Yes, of course, but my time is near."
"Yes."
"Thank you for your honesty. I know my time is near. I can feel it. Promise me that you will take care of Hilda."
"Thoreena, I will love Hilda forever, just as I will love you forever."
"Hardy, I don't want to die."
"Know one wants to die, Thoreena."
"Will you lie beside me forever? Will you hold my hand."
"Forever is forever."
"Hardy, I 'm tired. I'm going now. When I wake, please be by my side."
To Chapter Forty-two
Copyright © 2001 David Square/Log Cabin Chronicles/05.01 |
