My mom told me that James served in an infantry division during World War II. Pappy was also going to serve - he even made it to boot camp in Petawawa but, thank god, the war ended before he was shipped off. He was still offered a subsidized mortgage on a house in Crawford Park but, Pappy being Pappy, he turned it down. Anyways, when James left to fight, he had a wide flat boxer's nose and big, perhaps cauliflower ears. Uncle Pat told me that he was or was close to being Golden Glove in the Point. Can you believe that? Golden Glove in tough as nails Point-Saint-Charles!? He taught Pappy some moves, I know, and Pappy taught Pat, who then showed me a couple of moves back in the day. Don't think of landing just one punch at a time, always plan in threes, Pat told me when I was younger.
So James goes off to Europe with his big ears and big noes and he is deployed as an infantryman. I imagine him crouched in a mucky trench, thick with the smell of mud and gunpowder. I imagine mortar shells concussing nearby and the crack crack cracking of guns going off with the occasional zipping of a bullet passing overhead. At the wave of his team leader's hand, I imagine James climbing out of the trench and sprinting as best he can towards the next trench or raised cover when he hears a gun crack which sends him diving for cover but he doesn't safely find cover; instead -
BOOM!
He sees nothing, hears nothing, only the dull loud throb of his heart beating rapidly in his head. He realizes that he's being dragged by the arms, his boots skipping and scrapping through rough grass and over rocks. "We've got you O'Donnell! Can you hear me?!"
Suddenly, James feels icy cold water on his face and head. It rouses him from the shock of the grenade that went off only feet away from where he dove for cover. He opens his eyes through the muck and blood and sees that his buddies have dragged him to the shore to wash out his wounds. The sharp relief that the ocean water brings, however, doesn't last, instead he feels his ears and nose begin to sting.
***
Weeks later, Great Grand-Nanny Veronica anxiously waits for James on the train platform for James. She hasn't seen him in weeks and she's concerned because she received word that he had survived a grenade blast which, had it been any closer, would have been fatal.
The train appears and, in what feels like hours, it rolls into the station and stops. Men start climbing out of the cars with green canvas bags over their shoulders. Some of them have yellowed bandages on their heads and hands. All of them look like they haven't slept and showered in weeks. Impatiently, Veronica starts wading through the disembarking men and the huddles of tearful families, scanning the faces for James. She catches a glimpse of a smiling face that she passes without slowing - "Veronica!" She turns.
"Oh my god!" It's James ... but it isn't. Although a bit red and bleary, it's his eyes and, definitely, his smile but his nose and ears are ... small, or, normal! "Christ, look at you!"
"I know, eh?" James raises his right hand, the other still holding his canvas bag, and lightly touches his nose and ears.
Veronica pauses, still looking over her husband's new features. With a nod and a mischievous grin she says, "Yup, this is definitely an improvement!"
No comments:
Post a Comment