Welby T Cox

Poor Banished Children of Eve


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which I found to be as magic as was Princepe’ and it was my hope and plan to take her there as my bride.

      Heinz and I soon found our way to the Post Office and I sent a copy of the memorandum to Max Watkins via special delivery. I decided to walk about the village in the hope of finding a store to purchase a few things to tide me over. After all, I had not expected to stay more than three days originally, and I was now into a week. I found a store and a shady spot for Heinz to rest with the golf cart while I shopped.

      The little shop was perfect and the prices were quite reasonable. I purchased slack, shirts, socks, underwear, a couple of sweaters and sport coat and tie for the dining room or for court. On the way back to the camp, there was a small grocery. Once again, I lucked into a shady spot for Heinz and promised I would take no more than fifteen minutes. I picked up some dog food, some vitamins for Heinz, and a dog bone, a bowl for water and one for food and a rubber ball. I got some cheese, crackers, mustard, pretzels, peanuts and a twelve pack of beer.

      Heinz was happy to see me and I knew he smelled the goodies. Since I had promised Max ... I would call before the end of the day, I went to the only pay phone at the camp and called Max collect. I was glad to hear Max pick up and I informed him the body of Seg Maze had been found and Deputy Colvin had promised to let me hear the results of the coroner’s report by Tuesday. I also told him Colvin had permitted me to go into the village to mail the memorandum and did some personal shopping since I had never done laundry.

      “Marvelous work Brandon, I’m planning to come to Powell River sometime late next week. In the meantime, I want you to promise you’ll sit tight, stay out of the saloons and away from the whores until I get you freed of this mess.

      The General Officer's Club

      Before coming to British Columbia, I had been required to see my physician for a routine check of my vitals. More or less an instant medical analysis from a friendly source as consideration in the process to pick up the star as a general.

      I was no longer a young man…but there aren’t many Custer’s in this man’s army. Now past fifty with the army looking at my colonel bars, Obviously thinking it was either time for a promotion based on longevity; experience in the field while taking fire, accommodations for bravery and leadership from various countries, as well as medals for being shot-up. Maybe they were thinking it was time for this grey beard to move along. As much as I despised doing the physical, I relented taking the Mannitol Hexanitrate to help pass the test for whatever the army had planned.

      I went home to Kentucky to see my personal physician for more than twenty years. He had been less than positive, and pointed out the readings after taking them twice. He looked over his reading glasses, “you know Brandon, it isn’t indicated, in fact it is definitely contra-indicating an increased intra-cranial pressure.”

      “Doc, I don’t know what the hell you are talking about?"

      “I have known you a long time, you old war horse. That is to say Colonel, sir…or maybe it just seems a long time.” The doctor said.

      “It’s been a long time and I don’t need bad news.” I said and we both laughed.

      “We sound like the odd couple,” The surgeon said. “But seriously, don’t ever run into anything which causes sparks to fly, when you are really tipped in Nitro.”

      “Wasn’t my cardio, Ok?”

      Your electro-cardiograph was terrific, Colonel. Had I not known it was yours, I would have sworn ... it was the heart of a twenty something.”

      “Then what’s the problem?”

      “Colonel, too much mannitol hexanitrate produced a certain amount of nausea and I’m sure you are anxious to get home, take a seconal and lie down for a nap.”

      “I ought to write the manual for minor tactics for the heavy pressure platoon.” I said.

      “Why not.”

      “Well doc, I’ve told you, why can’t I just throw myself on the mercy of the court?”

      “You never do, Colonel…you always plead them not guilty.”

      I laughed at the suggestion but I could see my old pal wasn’t going to let me off the hook.

      “How many times have you been hit in the head?” He asked.

      “You know damn well doc, it’s in my 201 but when you’re the quarterback the line hits you.”

      “How many times, Colonel?”

      “Oh for Christ sake, are you asking for the army, or as my friend and personal surgeon?”

      “You know Brandon, I stood up for you and Bonnie and I’d never lie to you…this comes from the heart as your friend and physician.”

      “Ok Doc, you have made me feel sufficiently trite, now what exactly do you want to know?”

      “Concussions!”

      “Real ones?”

      “Anytime you were out cold or couldn’t remember.”

      “Maybe ten or fifteen times.” I responded, “Counting Polo, give or take three shots to the head.”

      “You poor bastard.” The surgeon said, “You’re in good health, but the heads going to kill you.”

      “May I leave now?”

      “Yes, sir,” The surgeon responded.

      “Want to go on a duck hunt in the marshes near Vancouver? It will be terrific.”

      “Isn’t that were they shoot old coots?”

      “No, they shoot real ducks; mallards, pin-tails, widgeon, some geese…just like the shoots we went on when we were kids.”

      “I was a kid in ’29 or ‘30”

      “That was the first mean thing I ever heard you say.”

      “I didn’t mean it like it sounded. I just meant ... I didn’t remember when shooting ducks was good; you must remember I’m a city boy.”

      “Colonel, sir, I can hurt you, and I know you don’t mean that?”

      “Of course not, just kidding.” I said laughing at my old friend.

      “Happy to say you’re in good shape, and I would expect you will get the star, but just remember Brandon, if you ever get a severe headache, don’t fool with it and try to self-medicate…sorry I can’t go on the shoot…but then I can’t even shoot!” (Laughing)

      “Hell.” I said, “... doesn’t matter. Neither can anybody else in this man’s army…I just enjoy having you around, taking your money at poker!”

      “I’m going to give you something else to back-up the medication you are now taking.”

      “Is there anything?”

      “Not really. They’re working on stuff at Lilly.”

      “Let’em work.”

      “That is a laudable attitude, sir.”

      “Go to hell.” I said. “You sure you don’t want to go on the shoot…just for the R and R?”

      “I get my ducks at Kroger.” The doctor said. “And, it’s warm in the winter and cool in the summer, and I don’t have to get up before first light…or wear long handled drawers.”

      “All right city boy, you’ll never know what you missed.”

      “And, I don’t want to know,” the Doctor said. “I am glad you are in the kind of shape ... enables you to do such manly things, Colonel, sir.”

      “I could learn to dislike you.” We shook hands and Doc patted my back as I went out the door.

      ************

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