Talking at the Woodpile (28 page)

“He survived the gangrene but later on he died of scurvy. Life is tough.” Winch shrugged. “I started losing weight. I couldn't eat. My toes continued to blacken, and red streaks appeared under the skin halfway up my calf. I was stressed and depressed, which didn't help any.”

“Red streaks mean blood poisoning,” I said.

“Yeah. I was scared but I was thinking what I might have to do. I left it as long as I could, but reality is reality, Tobias, and I had to do or die. There was no way I could go for help.

“I had another axe, but it was dull, full of nicks and chips. It had never been sharpened, and I'd used it mainly as a wedge for splitting wood. Fortunately I had a heavy machinist's file in the truck's toolbox. It was rusty but still sharp. Sitting by the window to catch the light, I braced the head on the edge of the table and filed for hours. The blunt edge became as sharp as a razor, and I was able to shave my arm with it. I put a pan of water on the stove and boiled the axe. That made it nice and clean and sterile. At least I hoped it did!”

I knew what was coming next, and it horrified me. I began to understand Winch's psychosomatic feelings about his foot.

“I rolled the heavy chopping block in and covered its top with my cleanest dishcloth. Seeing it sitting there in the middle of the floor made my stomach flip. It made me think of how those poor folk must have felt during the French Revolution when head chopping was popular. I stoked up the fire, trimmed the lamp and tied a tourniquet around my leg. I still wished I had a bottle of whiskey, but then if I was drunk, I could really mess things up.

“I sat down, pulled my knee up and placed my right foot on the log. Then I drew a pencil mark across the base of my toes.”

“Cut on dotted line,” I said.

Winch laughed. “The pencil mark was purely for my peace of mind, because to tell you the truth, I wasn't sure how accurate I was going to be. I didn't want to cut too far into my foot. Using my right hand on my right foot was awkward, so I took a few practice swings. My skin was cold and clammy. I sat a while, knowing what I must do and wishing I didn't have to. I blocked all thoughts out, gripped the axe near the top, raised it, aimed and brought it down as hard as I could. The last thing I saw before I passed out was a spurt of blood and my toes flying across the room.”

I started to laugh—the image of his toes flying across the room seemed hilarious—and Winch realized what he'd said and started laughing with me. We laughed until tears came to our eyes.

The kids came out of the kitchen and gathered around. “What's so funny, Dad?”

Winch couldn't tell them; they were too young. “Go back in and see your mom. When you're older, I'll tell you.” He wiped his eyes. “And to make it even funnier, Tobias, before everything went black, I heard one bonk off the wash basin!”

We laughed some more.

“Ahhh,” he said, still laughing, “and then I had my first vision.”

I waited. Would this be another so-called epiphany?

“I was in a smoky dome-like structure where a small open fire cast yellowish light and dark shadows on the walls. In the background a group of almost naked men beat a large drum and sang in high-pitched voices. They looked like Plains people from around Edmonton where we used to live. In the foreground a young man was barely swinging back and forth, suspended above the hard-packed floor from ropes attached to pieces of white bone inserted through the flesh of his chest. His arms hung limply at his sides, and his head was thrown back as far as it could go. His long black hair hung down to his legs. Rivulets of blood streamed down his body and dripped off the end of his toes, forming a dark reflective pool into which the light from the fire flickered. I knew I was seeing the sun dance. A Native friend had told me about it, and I'd seen pictures of it in history books.

“When I came to, I could still hear the singing. But this time it was joined by another voice. It took me a moment to realize that it was my own. I was screaming my lungs out from the pain in my foot as I lay twisted on the floor. To my horror the axe pinned my foot to the stump, and I couldn't move. I got up on my elbows and stared in disbelief at the incomplete job. The blow had detached the four small toes but only half my big toe. I wrenched the axe from the stump, aimed and struck again.

“The second vision was in the same place. The drumming continued, but the young man was no longer suspended and now stood facing me. He had a broken-toothed smile and looked friendly. His face was sweat-streaked, and his hair was matted on his forehead. A look of total calm shone from his features. The ropes hung loosely down his bloodied chest, still attached to the bones piercing his skin. He reached out his right hand and placed it on my left shoulder. He looked me in the eyes and spoke clearly. “Winch, the pain you feel in your heart and mind will lead you to better things.” He then nodded and released my shoulder, stepped backward, turned and danced toward the drummers.

“When I came to, I was no longer tethered to the stump. I wrapped bandages around the wound, staggered to the bed and passed out. When I woke up, great clots of blood had soaked through to the mattress. I felt weak and nauseous. I could hardly sit up and flopped over on the bed. After a few attempts I managed to sit at the kitchen table. Surprisingly I was hungry and I wolfed down cups of hot cocoa and thick peanut butter and jam sandwiches.”

“How did your toes look?” I asked.

“They looked okay. Bloody, but okay. I was successful.” Winch hesitated. “Tobias, he knew my name.”

“Who?” I asked.

“The young fellow in the vision. He knew my name.”

“He probably looked you up in the phone book.”

“I wish sometimes you would get serious, Tobias.”

“Sorry,” I said. “So what happened next?”

“Cleaning the wound was difficult. I soaked my foot in warm water and removed the coverings. I was pleased to see the red streaks retreating down my leg.

“I'm going to be okay, I thought. I'm going to be okay. I was laughing and weeping at the same time. ‘Yahoo!' I yelled, ‘I am going to be okay!'

“I had two grey not-very-clean rags for bandages but I needed to change the dressing at least twice a day. I'd heard that printer's ink had antiseptic qualities. The only book I had was the Bible. I cut out sections and tied them around the end of my foot like a butcher's package. I felt terrible and guilty for using it, but what was I to do? My next dilemma was what to keep for reading. I picked through the books of the Bible, leaving my favourites and cutting out the rest. I saved Exodus, Psalms, Isaiah, Zechariah, Luke, John, Matthew and Revelations. The paper was dry and clean and helped the healing. Soon the bleeding and seepage stopped.”

As he got better, Winch wondered what to do with the severed toes. The Eldorado Hotel had a sourtoe cocktail, but they were selective about the toe they used. A drunk had swallowed the toe one time, and they were very exclusive about choosing a new one. He thought about making a necklace, but that was too gruesome. People would think he'd flipped out and avoid him more than they already did. So he threw the toes onto the roof for the ravens. But the ravens knew better; they never touched them.

“The pain and agony I went through made my problems seem small, and I forgot them as time went on. I spent another two months up on Hunker.

“One day a D-8 Cat came up the road. Just as well! I was running out of supplies and wanted to go home. It was Henry Cougar, a placer miner, getting an early start on the gold-mining season. He was surprised to see anyone up there and stopped for coffee. Henry was the first person I spoke to in seven months. The road was now cleared, so the next day I wasted no time in getting my things loaded in the truck. The battery was dead from my using it all winter with the radio, so I coasted down the hill a bit, popped the clutch and away I went.

“It was beautiful down in the valley. The sun was melting the snow, and water ran everywhere. The Klondike River was starting to thaw, and the roads were all muddy. Lulu, the kids and the dogs must have recognized the sound of the International Harvester coming up the drive, because all of them were out waiting for me. Lulu said later that her intuition told her I was coming home that day. The kids ran screaming and yelling. They were happy to see me.”

Winch's eyes were tearing over. He sniffed a couple of times, blew his nose and went on.

“Damn, Tobias, what a person does to avoid love, eh? I hugged the kids close and couldn't believe I was such a fool as to leave them. Lulu was standing on the porch wiping her hands on her apron. She stared at me. I knew she was looking to see how I was. I set the children aside and limped up to the porch. She was standing on the second step so we were the same height. I said, ‘Hi, Lulu.'”

Lulu told me later, “I could see Winch was a changed man. His face was bright, and his eyes were clear. He'd lost so much weight that his clothes hung on him. The straps that cinched up his overalls, which normally hung at chest level, now fit under his chin. Not since our wedding day had he looked so thin.”

“Lulu gave me the biggest hug and said, ‘Welcome home, Winch.' I loved the fresh smell of her clothes and the warmth of her body. I buried my head in her shoulder and told her how sorry I was.” She said, ‘Now, now, we won't have any of that, will we? It's over.' She hugged me again and we went inside.

“We sat at the kitchen table, since the children wouldn't let me out of their sight. They were waving every crayon drawing they'd made since I left and telling me everything that had happened in the past months. One of the dogs had pups and my lap was soon covered in puppies.

“You know, Tobias, sitting there in the kitchen with my wife and kids, I realized then and there that when you come right down to it, all there is is love. Love is all that matters.”

I began to understand more clearly what had changed Winch.

“I told Lulu again that I was sorry I left, because I felt so bad. She started to cry and sat on the edge of her chair with her elbow on the table and her chin resting on her hand. I knew I had hurt and worried her. I swore I would never do it again for as long as I lived.

“The news spread that I was home, and everyone came to the kitchen to see me. I hugged and greeted everyone individually to make sure each person knew I was happy to see them. I apologized where I had to and put other things straight when it seemed appropriate. Uncle Zak gave me the once-over a couple of times, looking to see which Winch had really returned, but I won him over. ‘I was organizing a coup d'état, Winch,' Zak said. ‘You were lucky you left when you did, otherwise by now I'd be running this show. Clutch thought he would make his move, but if brains were dynamite, he wouldn't have enough to blow his nose.' Zak didn't care that Clutch was standing next to him.

“They all wanted to know about my toes, so we chased the younger children out of the room, and amid gasps and groans, I showed them what I'd had to do. Where the toes were, there was now a row of fresh pink stubs, cleanly healed. There was a little jog where the big toe took a second hit, but it was pretty straight overall. Holding up my leg, I couldn't help but feel a little pride at the fine job I had done.”

That was the end of Winch's Hunker Creek story. It became a running joke around the house from there on in that if anyone froze their toes, they should see Doctor Winch.

About a month later the Halloos threw a combination birthday-welcome-home barbecue for him. OP only got a birthday party, but he didn't care. He and Clutch were glad to have their brother back, and they hugged him every chance they got.

Winch told them, “I'm here to stay, boys. I'm not leaving physically or mentally. What you see is what you get.”

I talked Mom and Dad into going to the party with Flora and me. Dad was all right, but Mom balked.

“Come on, Becky, you can meet our son's friend.” Dad called Mom Becky when they argued.

“Okay, but I never thought my son would date a dance hall girl.”

“She's not a dance hall girl, Ma. I told you that already.”

Mom and Dad sat in the back of the Rambler, and Flora and I sat in the front. In the rear-view mirror, I saw Mom pull out her pack of cigarettes, and I said, “Mom!” She put them back in her purse.

“When did you start smoking?” Dad asked.

“Never you mind,” Mom said.

Somehow a conversation got started about school. Flora was heading back to Simon Fraser University in September, and I was off to my first year at the University of Victoria.

“What are you studying, dear?” my mom asked.

“I'm studying education,” Flora said.

In the mirror I saw my mom's cheeks blush.

Once Mom realized Flora was a hard-working student “and a very bright, pretty one at that,” the ice was broken. By the time we reached the party, they were inseparable.

Winch and I stood together drinking punch, watching people enjoy themselves.

“This is what it's all about, Tobias, friends and family being together, supporting each other, giving each other confidence.”

“I will never forget that,” I said.

We shook hands, and Winch hugged me like a bear.

“I love you, man, like a brother,” he said, then moved on to sit with Lulu and the children.

I sat with Flora, my parents and Zak, who was spinning tales. I never felt so good in all my life.

Uncle Zak took the axe and mounted it on a varnished and stained plywood plaque. It hung on the living room wall in a place of honour, over the couch among family photographs. If you looked closely, you could see a reddish stain on the handle. Winch put his condensed version of the Bible in the drawer beside his bed and read it at night before sleeping.

“I never did feel comfortable using a holy book like that,” he told me, “but it saved my life.”

Lulu helped out by putting things into perspective to ease his worries. “If God didn't make things to help man, well then, what's the use of having them?”