....by Donald Grant DeMan
Daddy turned bright red and died in Union Hospital the very day we celebrated July First, when the whole town came out for barbecue, a parade down main street and Maple Leaf festival of lights. I got to wear a brand new black dress for the funeral. Up to then he'd been poorly, not entirely due to his drinking either, so they say.
Chief of Police Dan Gary - who courted my Momma in the old times - investigated, though neveryone suspected the contaminated water killed him.
A month before I noticed a change coming over Mother. That we lived in a North Battleford shanty near the tracks seemed not to bother her, and she had weathered Daddy's increasingly gross behavior for years. Maybe Mrs. Killpatrick triggered Momma's transformation as the women down at the market discussed how the town water was filled with a parasite called cryptosporidium killing folks like flies.
"Mildred, you're so burdened with that dipsomaniac husband and six hungry kids. Why he hasn't worked since the railroad fired him for causing that awful wreck. How in Heaven will you folks be able to afford bottled water?" Tina Killpatrick inquired of Momma. "With the railroad insurance still in effect that man is worth more buried than walking."
"Tina! What a thing to say to Mildred. I'm sure your own beloved groom is no saint, dear," chimed Mrs. Brubaker who they say seemed to be in putting in her two bits for a dollar's change. In fact some called her "Budinsky Brubaker," a title she seemed to wear like a county fair cook-off blue medal.
"At least he has part time work at the Grange. Mildred's George is quite a different kettle. I recall when Chief Gary jailed him for chasing Thelma at the Rickety Rock Bar. Mildred here should be thinking of her future, especially her kids," and with that Mrs. Killpatrick looked straight at me. "Poor Rita there and the others have suffered quite enough."
The ladies broke into a squabble, Mom took my hand and dragged me home with the bag of groceries. In her eyes I noticed a fresh light of determination. It occurred to me that she was going to tell Daddy to sail right or ship out - an expression Grandma had used on dope fiend Cousin Tom.
As summer advanced it became a burden to boil water on the cook stove, steam filling the air no matter how many windows we left open. Daddy sat mostly on the porch drinking beer: "God damn it. We might just as well live in the tropics or Vancouver for all the damp around this here sink hole."
Momma paid him no nevermind, busying herself with chores, and to the library where she filed for Myrna Goose three days per week - a little extra money on top of welfare. She'd come home real tired, but strangely go straight to the pantry, open an expensive can of red-colored cat food into a saucer for Jayzus Murphy, our big old black cat, which I somehow thought extravagant, for normally Murph thrived on varmints, birds, and table scraps. Mom later placed the unfinished food high on a shelf there which bothered me considering the flies, maggots and all, though I never did question the peculiarities of it. School work and drama was about all I could manage.
In the meantime, I heard that four more unfortunates had gone to heaven from the water disease. The school buzzed because we had lost a couple of sixth grade kids, and a grief counselor came to help us with something called "trauma" which I don't believe I had any of in the first place. Folks come and go, as our pastor put it. Some get to heaven a little early, is all, and God awards them with special golden wings for their inconvenience.
With Canada Day on the horizon, Daddy bought rye whiskey and sat the whole night singing "If a tree don't fall on me I'll live 'till I die," which he said he learned from a cowboy named Tex Ritter who played the Rialto before he met Momma, for she was then in high school going with Chief Gary.
July first I awakened to Daddy's shouting, "Mildred! Damn woman! Rustle me some breakfast, I'm sick of you and your lazy hide."
Without flinching, Momma went to the kitchen. "I'll make you eggs, and put them on some of that fried hash we had for supper." I could hear her scraping and rattling dishes, rustling in the pantry.
Soon she slid a plate under Daddy's nose loaded with more red corned beef it seemed than we'd had the night before. He gobbled it in a few seconds, chasing it with two tumblers of water.
"Come on Daddy, we'll be late for the parade," I nudged him, and soon we were in the center of town. Even then I could see Daddy was getting a little green and bright red, like a Christmas ornament, but I supposed it was the whiskey he'd guzzled. Or perhaps the hot sun, but whatever, an hour later they carried him off and he expired.
"It was a mercy," Mrs. Killpatrick said at the funeral. "Drank some of that poisoned water while in his cups, no doubt.
"That poor woman with all those mouths to feed," remarked Mrs. Brubaker.
"None of that! She's far better off without that sot," Mrs. Killpatrick shot back.
Two days later Chief Gary came to visit mom. I could hear them from the bathroom. "Mildred I offer my condolences. I was wondering if you had a moment to talk."
"Why sure Sam. Always got time for an old friend, especially my former beau from senior prom days," Watching through the key hole, I saw Momma light right up when the Chief smiled, showing those big Hollywood teeth.
"Well now Mildred, I do suppose you'll be getting quite a bundle of railway insurance here, nearly a hundred thousand they say?"
"Well, that's little consolation for the years of grief. You know Sam, I began missing you the very day I went loco and married him."
"As I did you, Mildred. We were so young and childish with our pride. One bad quarrel is all it took then. Words said in anger killed our love, I reckon."
"I sure paid and paid and paid. And you never did marry. What a shame."
The Chief grinned, "Not so much a shame, but a tragic loss for us, Mildred. That's why I'm here my little darling. I'm thinking that after a suitable spell of widow's weeds we'd be thinking about getting back together. I have the big home now mother's passed, and we could live there as a family should."
Well. You might imagine how Momma's mouth went wide at that. "Why Sam. How can we possibly be discussing something like this with George not yet cold?"
"Just sit there and bridle your grief, Mildred. I had a little talk with Doc Thomas and now I knows what I knows, and we all gotta keep it kind of under a lid, if you get my drift. With the bad water parasite, and knowing you as a artful type woman, it seems it wasn't the waterbug what done the job and that's a fact that some inquisitive Budinsky might conclude you planned from the gitgo."
"My oh my, Danny Boy, I have not the wildest sense of whatever you may be talking about." Momma looked astonished. Or so I believed.
"Not that I blame you one bit, but we gotta get these things squared away, for I do not wish ever to be waking up dead from eating your corned beef," he chuckled.
"Well Sam, you treat me like a woman needs and you'll never have a worry in those directions."
"That settled Mildred, I'll be on my way. Paying my respects from time to time if you allow the door open a crack. Yes ma'am, it was time somebody settled that other fellow's hash!" With that they laughed together all the way to the porch.
In six months I was bridesmaid at Momma's wedding, and we moved in with my new Daddy, Chief Sam. Jayzus Murphy, of course, came with us, and from that time to this Momma has never ever again fed him cat meat on a saucer.
Daddy was the last of the folks that passed during that bad water season, and the whole town was relieved that the crisis was dead and gone.
So was Momma, I believe.
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