Forty Words for Sorrow (34 page)
“Oh, Catherine …”
“So, you see, to have you do something wrong—something very wrong—to have you actually wreak potential havoc on our lives is … Well, I’m taking a very long time just to say it’s nice to be needed. To get a chance to be the strong one, for a change.”
Cardinal’s doctor came in noisily, blaring greetings and questions. “No, no, you can stay,” he said when Catherine started to leave. He shone a light in Cardinal’s pupils. Asked him to sit up. Even had him walk a few steps, holding on to the bedrail like a little old man, his gut in agony.
“Fuck you, Doc. I’m going back to bed.”
The doctor was scribbling on the chart. “I didn’t really need you to walk. Just wanted to see if it hurt as much as I thought it would. You’re doing great. Going to take four to six weeks for your innards to heal, though. Bullets really whizzed around in there.”
“Six weeks!”
“Do you good.” For Catherine’s benefit the doctor jerked a thumb and said, “Big dumb hero, eh?” Then he let the chart drop with a clatter against the bed, and left as noisily as he had come in.
“Christ. He could be a cop with that sense of humour,” Cardinal said. Sweat was cooling on his brow.
“I better go,” Catherine said. “You’re whiter than the sheet.”
“Don’t go, Catherine. Please stay.”
So Catherine Cardinal stayed. Stayed and watched over him as she had in his dream.
Cardinal closed his eyes. He wanted to ask if she would stay with him, despite what he had done, if she could still live with him, be happy with him. But the painkillers were a soft plump pillow in his skull, and Cardinal felt sleep settle softly on his arms and legs and brow. He opened his eyes and saw Catherine beside him, wearing glasses now, reading a book she had brought to pass the time. Fringed by the flutter of his eyelids, the pale green walls turned into pale green trees. The voices in the hall became the sounds of hidden animals, and the door swung open wider on a swiftly flowing stream.
Cardinal dreamed that they were travelling. He dreamed that he and Catherine were travelling on a river—a leafy, southern river he had never seen before. Catherine paddled in the front of the canoe, and Cardinal steered badly in the back. The sun was the bright yellow of children’s drawings. The canoe was bottle green, and they were laughing.
Acknowledgements
The following people all read earlier versions of
Forty Words
and made numerous suggestions for cuts and improvements, or helped in other ways: Bill Booth; Anne Collins, my editor at Random House Canada; my wife, Janna Eggebeen; my agent, Helen Heller; Linda Sandler; Staff Sergeant Rick Sapinski of the North Bay Police Department; and my editor at Putnam’s, Marian Wood. I am grateful to them all.
Copyright © Giles Blunt 2000
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FORTY WORDS FOR SORROW
Seal Books/published by arrangement with Random House Canada
Random House Canada edition published 2000
Seal Books edition published June 2002
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eISBN: 978-0-307-36850-8
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