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Authors: Eric Walters

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War of the Eagles (19 page)

BOOK: War of the Eagles
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Murdock jumped up on top of a large rock, which put him head and shoulders above the crowd. He didn't answer right away and I knew he was thinking — or more likely — plotting. His expression was still angry but his eyes looked empty. A slight smile came to his face and became a nasty smirk.

“We'll show them,” he said, quietly at first. “We'll show them!” This time his voice was as loud as thunder. “Follow me!”

I felt a wave of fear flow up my spine. I didn't know what he was going to do, but I knew I wouldn't like it. The men trailed after him, cheering him on. Somebody had to stop them. But who? Major Brown would already be down in Rupert. He and George Star had become friends and spent each Saturday night together in a jeep riding up and down the main street. All the MPs would already be gone as well. Smitty! They'd listen to Smitty.

“Tadi, get Smitty … fast!” I yelled. Tadashi ran down the incline towards the motor pool.

The mob stopped around Eddy. Eddy! What did they want with Eddy? With the heavy rain today he'd be sitting safely inside sheltered from the weather. We'd recently put him on a longer tether, almost twenty feet long, because with all the test flights he was making from the top of his little house, we were afraid he'd strangle himself. He now spent hours gliding down the few feet from roof top to ground.

I raced forward until I was stopped by the backs of the group of tightly bunched men. I screamed out, but my voice was lost in the yelling and hollering. I watched helplessly as Murdock and two other guys pushed a piece of plywood over the entrance to the house, trap–ping Eddy inside. Then one man held the board in place while six or seven others bent down and picked the entire house up. The rope, one end of it on one of Eddy's legs and the other end attached to the house, dragged behind. It could get tangled up in all the feet and Eddy would get slammed against the wood or have his leg pulled off. To my relief somebody gathered up the loops of rope and carried it along with the house.

This made no sense. What were they going to do to Eddy? I shoved and scrambled through until I stood directly in front of the men carrying the house. They came striding towards me with Murdock in the lead. I positioned myself so I was right in his path. Murdock saw me and a scowl came to his face. His eyes filled with a look that was a cross between anger and happiness.

“Get out of the way, injun!” he yelled.

I was hit by a wave of fear, but wasn't getting out of anybody's way. I planted my feet in the mud.

“Move!” he yelled, and then with one motion, he swept out his arm. It hit me across the side of my head and I went sprawling, flying through the air. I bounced into the legs of a couple of soldiers and then landed in the mud. I looked up to see the dog house move away. Patterson helped me to my feet. Most of the soldiers were no longer following. They stood like stony, silent statues, watching. The sound, the rumblings of the mob, was also gone. All I could hear was Murdock swearing, and the voices of his friends carrying the house, hurling out encouragement.

Murdock ran slightly up ahead of the others and flung open the door, the only door, to the showers. A cloud of steam rose from the opening and into the sky. The opening to Eddy's house, still covered by the plywood, was pushed up against the opened door of the showers. Murdock then jumped on top of the house and pulled up the plywood. Two of the others started kicking the back of it. I caught a glimpse of a wing tip before it vanished into the steam-filled air of the showers.

The shower building had eight showers separated by low partitions. It wasn't very large, slightly longer, and definitely narrower, than the tether line on Eddy's foot.

The only sound now was the steady plopping of the rainwater in the puddles and the background rumble of the showers. All eyes were trained on that small door, the bottom part blocked by the house. It felt like everybody was holding their breath, waiting.

Then there was the screech of Eddy screaming out a threat. Almost immediately, it was followed by a series of yells and hollers echoing out of the showers as the officers become aware, probably all at once, that they were sharing their shower.

Eddy was a lot friendlier than when he first came to the camp. When he was in a good mood — Naani had helped me to figure out how to read his moods — he'd gently take a mouse or a piece of meat right out of my fingers. But now, soaking wet, in a new place with every–body yelling and running around, and probably pretty frightened, Eddy would not be in a good mood.

Through the haze of steam rising out of the door, a figure came hurtling over the house. One of the of–ficers, naked and temporarily clean, cleared the house with just the touch of one hand on the top. He landed, skidded and then slid face first into the mud. Before he even finished his slide, a second and third man fol–lowed. Both landed almost exactly in the tracks of the first, and the three crashed together at the end into a muddy ball of arms and legs.

“How many men are in there?” I asked Patterson.

“Don't know, but I think all of the officers, maybe eight or ten.”

Before his sentence had been completed, a fourth man hurtled over the house. He did it cleanly without even touching the roof. I caught a glimpse of red on his side. Eddy had got him! The first three men had got to their feet but were all bowled over by this last man.

“That's a strike!” somebody yelled out, and the crowd, which had been strangely quiet, erupted into laughter.

The four officers, naked, wet, covered with mud, panting and bruised, staggered to their feet again. Two of them moved ahead and tried to shoulder the house away from the entrance to the shower. Their feet slipped and one fell down again, face first, flat in the mud. He pulled himself up. For the first time I looked at one of their faces. It was Stevenson. It looked good on him. He stood up and grabbed the edge of the house where it was against the shower building. He took one of his muddy feet and pushed it against the structure, using it as an anchor. You could almost feel the strain, and then with a “Pop,” the house moved away and off to one side. All four of the officers pushed it out of the way, completely clearing the shower door. Stevenson bounded the few steps back to the door and hollered in. I couldn't make out his words, but they generated instant action. Five other men burst out through the opening and rocketed across the open ground.

Out of the mist came Eddy. As he stepped clear, he stopped. He opened his wings fully, threw back his head and screeched, a cry of victory. He gave two little hops and then, his wings flapping, leaped to the top of his house. He balanced, teetering slightly back and forth, flapping his wings, until he was sure of his footing.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of somebody moving along the boardwalk. It was Major Brown! George Star was with him. I didn't know why they were back, but I didn't care. I was just so grateful to see them.

The major stopped at the most elevated part of the walkway, leaned against the railing and stared out at the mass of filthy men, some standing naked, and all dripping mud. A few others saw him and turned in his direction. The major's mouth opened, and then closed. Then opened and closed again without a syllable emerg–ing. George Star stood just behind his left shoulder.

“Attention!” yelled a voice from the crowd.

The crowd swung around as one to face the voice and then froze into position. Major Brown stared at the men for what was only a few seconds but felt like forever. “Could my officers please put on clothes and assemble in the mess hall. All others are restricted to their barracks. Dismissed!”

I could hear some quiet muttering, but nobody was fool enough to voice any objections. His directions were heeded. The major turned around and both he and George went to the mess.

I scanned the crowd for Tadashi. He was nowhere to be seen. I headed around the side of the mess hall to come in through the kitchen. Rounding the corner I found my mother, mixing bowl in hand, standing and looking out the window of the door. She moved aside so I could enter.

“Did you see it all?” I asked.

“Just the end. Poor old bird … so glad your Naani wasn't here to see any of it.” She stopped and her face took on a confused expression. “Come over here,” she ordered as she walked to the sink. Obediently I followed behind.

She took a cloth, wet it, and started to rub my face.

“Ooouch!”

“You got yourself a nasty bruise and bump coming up on your face. Couldn't see it for a second under all that mud.” She moved over to the ice box and removed a piece of ice. She wrapped it in a cloth. “Hold this against your face, it'll take some of the swelling down,” she said as she pressed it against my cheek.

“That hurts!” I answered, flinching under its touch.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“This isn't a nothing. Don't lie to me, Jedidiah. Never you mind; I'll ask Tadashi.”

“He didn't see it,” I answered.

“Hah! If nothing happened, how could you know whether he saw it or not?”

“I … just …”

“If you don't want to talk about it, or if you're afraid to tell me because I may do something about it, then I'll let you decide what needs to be done. Okay?” she said softly.

I nodded. I didn't like keeping things from her.

“Did this happen because you were trying to protect Eddy?”

Again I nodded.

Her eyes were filled with a look of anger I'd seldom seen before. She reached her hand to the side of my face and pressed the ice pack gently against my cheek.

“I'm gonna stay here with you right now, because if I don't, and I find out who's responsible for this, I'll kill ‘em.”

“Mom it's okay … honestly.”

“No, it isn't. You just won't know how it feels to have your child hurt until you have one of your own.”

We were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and feet plodding across the floor boards.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“It's just a little bruise … I'm fine. Shouldn't we get back to work?”

“Work?”

“Yeah, setting things up out there,” I motioned to the dining hall. “I want to know what's going to happen.”

She nodded. “Most of the stuff is already in there, so just spread it around and try to look busy while you're eavesdropping.” She handed me a big pot of something, and a little bit of steam escaped from the lid which was slightly ajar. “Be careful, hot soup. Make sure you just hold it by the handles.”

She gathered up two large trays of potatoes, stack–ing one on top of the other. We pushed through the swinging door and into the serving area. Major Brown was standing in front of his officers, who had hurriedly dressed but still had patches of mud on their faces or in their hair. George was standing at the far window, look–ing out, ignoring the scene going on behind him.

“All right, could somebody — perhaps you, Captain Stevenson — explain why all my officers were standing around, without their uniforms, covered with mud,” Major Brown began.

“Well, we were trying to get away from the eagle,” Stevenson answered firmly. “They brought the eagle over and tossed it into the showers. Those men should be court marshaled! One of us could have been badly hurt or even killed.”

“Is anyone hurt?” Major Brown asked.

One of them raised his hand, half-heartedly, like he was embarrassed.

“Yes, Lieutenant Hicks?”

“I got cut up because of that eagle,” he answered.

“Where is your injury?”

“Lieutenant Hicks pulled up his shirt and showed his arm.

“The eagle did that?”

“Not exactly, sir,” Lieutenant Hicks replied.

“Well, how exactly did it happen?”

“When we spotted the eagle there was a bit of a scramble, and somebody bumped against me and I hit into the soap holder.”

“So, you are telling me that you were wounded by a soap holder!” Major Brown shook his head. “Congratulations, Lieutenant, you are the first man in the history of the Canadian army, perhaps in the history of any army, to be wounded in that manner. I'll cable away for your Purple Heart immediately.”

Stevenson spoke up. “That wouldn't have happened if they hadn't thrown in that damn bird. Its beak and claws are like razors. We're lucky none of us lost any–thing in there! Those men have to be punished.”

“Yes, and they will, but first I have to know why. Can you explain why all my officers, who have been work–ing indoors all day, were taking showers while all the enlisted men, who were working outdoors, were waiting in the mud and rain?”

Nobody wanted to answer that question.

“Does anybody think there might be a connection be–tween these two events?” he asked. “Now, can someone tell me who I should punish? Who is responsible?”

“Whoever carried that eagle house over to the show–ers,” Stevenson answered.

“And who is that?”

“I'm not sure. We could just punish everybody,” Ste–venson continued. “Cancel all leaves, keep everybody confined to their barracks.”

“And why are you not sure of who specifically we should punish?”

“Well … we don't really know because … we were all in the showers …”

“Leaving who in charge?” Major Brown demanded.

“Well … I guess still me, even if I was in the showers.”

“Wrong answer, Captain Stevenson, and worse still, wrong attitude. You left this camp without command, so there is no one who can tell me what happened!” Major Brown yelled. “One of you get me Murdock. Either he caused this or he'll tell me who did. The rest of you go to your posts and await my further orders.”

Stevenson looked like he was going to speak back.

He wasn't smart enough to stop his mouth from open–ing, but wasn't stupid enough to actually say anything.

They filed out of the mess hall. With the closing of the door, George motioned for the Captain to come to the window.

BOOK: War of the Eagles
12.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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