“He’s not breathing hardly at all, Doc!” said one. “You gotta do something quick!”
The doctor was calm. He helped the men lay Johnny down on a stretcher in the hallway. By now Nurse Barnes had showed up and was already administering oxygen to Johnny.
“What happened to his inhaler?” the doctor asked the men. They all shrugged.
“We don’t know,” said one of them.
“Was he putting out fires again?” asked the doctor.
“Looks like,” said one of the men. “He told us he’d just come from Whithers, some house fire he was helping on, his face was all full of ash and grit. He ordered a coffee, over at the Wagon Wheel, then started in on his coughing fit. Knocked his cup right off the table, and the gal over there, filling in for Cherniski, started yelling at him to get a grip. He started turning blue and he tried to talk but nothing came out, so the boys here and I stuck him in the back of the truck and brought him here. He’s looking better, I can see.”
Hosea stood beside Johnny, looking down at him and smiling. Johnny still couldn’t talk but his colour was coming back and his breathing had settled down. “I’m putting you back in, John,” whispered Hosea. Johnny blinked up at Hosea.
“Excuse me, Hosea,” said the doctor. “I’ll have to ask you to stand back a bit. He’ll be fine in a while. He’ll be out of here in an hour or two. Until the next time.” The doctor was muttering, “An asthmatic firefighter, I don’t understand …”
Hosea turned and walked towards the door. “Hey, Hosea,” said one of the men. “Isn’t that Leander Hamm’s hat you got on? He gave it to you?” Hosea froze on the spot but the man went on. “Looks pretty good on you, Hosea, looks sharp. Doesn’t it, Mel?” he said to the other man.
“Sure does,” said Mel. “That’s a bronc-bustin’ hat you got there, Hosea, you know that? You could be a cowboy if you got yourself a horse.”
Hosea smiled and said, “Well, maybe some day.” But the men weren’t listening. They were already making plans to get back to the Wagon Wheel and finish off their coffees, maybe find out more about the new gal taking over for Cherniski.
Hosea got into his car and backed out of his spot. He drove slowly down Main Street, nodding at the few people strolling along the sidewalk. Suddenly a dog stepped off the curb and sauntered across the street. Hosea slammed on his brakes and swore out loud. That damn Knute! She was supposed to get rid of that dog! Immediately Hosea felt bad about his outburst. He rolled down his window. “Uh, Bill Quinn?” he said. “Get off the road! Shoo! C’mon now, get going!” Bill Quinn turned his head to look at Hosea and then stopped in his tracks in the middle of the road. “C’mon now,” said Hosea. “I said shoo.”
Bill Quinn walked over to one of Hosea’s tires and lifted his leg. “Hey!” shouted Hosea. “Cut that out!” He threw his car into reverse and slammed his foot down on the gas pedal. Bill Quinn looked behind him at the spot where the tire had just been, put his leg down and continued to cross the street. He found a square of sunlight and lay down in it. With his legs stretched out in front of him and behind him he took up the entire width of the sidewalk.
Hosea watched as a woman and her child gingerly stepped over the dog. The child bent down and scratched Bill Quinn between the ears. Bill Quinn licked the boy’s face and the woman smiled. Hosea shook his head.
Well, thought Hosea, I’m really no further ahead than when I started. I’ve got three new babies and Max on my hands and nobody gone except Leander. I’m no further ahead. Hosea remembered raking leaves for Euphemia. As soon as he’d finished a patch of the lawn, the wind would blow and more leaves would fall from the trees directly onto his freshly raked patch. “C’mon in, Hosea,” Euphemia would yell from the doorway, “don’t worry about every single leaf.” But he had worried about every single leaf. He’d stay outside until ten or eleven at night trying to rake up every leaf, trying to beat the wind. Sometimes Tom would help out for a while but eventually he’d get bored and wander off. “I’m going to bed, Hose,” Euphemia would eventually call out into the darkness, “wherever you are, good night.”
Hosea parked his car on the street in front of his office and got out. He said, “Hello, Peej,” to a small stooped man who stood on the sidewalk gazing up at the sky. “Have you got seeding weather, Peej, or not?” Hosea smiled. “Let’s hope,” said Peej.
“Well, take ’er easy, Peej.” A vicious jerk of Peej’s chin by way of saying good-bye and Hosea had safely entered his office building.
He peered out the window of his office. He watched a couple getting out of their grey Subaru and going in to the Wagon Wheel. The woman glanced at Bill Quinn lying on the sidewalk and smiled. He thumped his fingers against the windowsill to a familiar tune. Waterloo, he thumped, my Waterloo. The couple took a table next to the large window in the front of the café. Hosea watched as the man removed the woman’s coat and then disappeared into the café, looking for a place to hang it. You’ll have to hang it over the back of a chair, it’s the Wagon Wheel you’re sitting in, not the Ritz, thought Hosea. He stared at the woman and wondered if she was married to the man or was she his sister, his daughter? He thought of Lorna. The woman sat at the table, her legs crossed and sticking out to the side, and picked up a menu. She looked up at Hosea. Hosea looked up at the sky, to the right and to the left as if he’d just heard an airplane, and then quickly moved away from his window. He noticed a note lying on his desk and picked it up.
Hi, Hosea, I let myself in with the key you gave me and I called the paint places in the city. It will cost, this is the cheapest, about $2,500 dollars to paint the water tower, without the horse. With the horse, about three grand. So … let me know what you think. Also, as you probably know, Bill Quinn is still in town, but I’m working on it. And I’ll be buying the flowers later today with the money from that account. That’s where I’m going now. Oh yeah, Lorna called. See ya, Knute.
P.S. Are you still interested in turning the old fred mill into a theatre because Jeannie, you know, your neighbour? said she’s thinking about buying it and turning it into an aerobics/laundromat kind of place. She said she’d talk to you.
I’m sure she did, thought Hosea. “When?” said Hosea out loud. When, Knute? When did Lorna call, what did she say, how did she sound? Was she at work, at home? Why hadn’t Knute just let the answering machine go? It would have been more helpful. At least he could have heard her voice. Hosea stood up and walked over to the window. He watched the couple for a while. The woman didn’t look up at him again. A warm wind touched him. Knute’s note fluttered off the desk and onto the floor. “You!” he shouted at Bill Quinn. The dog lifted one ear. “Get out of my town! Get the heck out of Algren!” Bill Quinn let his ear drop, yawned, and tried to get comfortable again. Combine Jo, who had been standing on the street with her back to Hosea, peering into the window of Willie Wiebe’s Western Wear, turned around and looked up at him.
“Who the hell are you yelling at, Hosea? It’s a little undignified, don’t you think?” She was grinning. “Have you lost your mind, Hosea? Why the hell don’t you come on out of your little tower and enjoy the sunshine. Summer’s just around the corner! Did I mention S.F. and me are gonna be riding our bikes over on the dike? Hey, Hosea, you gotta bike?”