The Persistent Prairie

“Calm down, Mom, don’t cry. Try to talk slowly; tell me what’s the matter. Speak up a little-your phone line isn’t very clear.”

“You know damned well what the matter is. You left me all alone on this god-forsaken prairie and there’s a blizzard blowing and I can’t get out to the barn to do the chores. Where the hell are you?  You’re supposed to be at home and don’t give me any of that guff about it being too stormy to travel. You just get on one of those horses and give him his head-he knows the way. He’ll get you home.”

“C’mon, Mom, you know that I don’t want you to be alone. I’ll get there as soon as I can. I phoned Phyllis after you called me earlier and she says she’s going to get over to you. She won’t be long. She’s a lot closer, you know.”

“I don’t want her staggering through this storm and getting lost on my account. You ring her and tell her to find the barbed wire fence that runs along the road and stick to it until she gets here. She should stay at home. You should be here, Jack.”

“Oh Jesus, Mom, listen I’m not… Never mind… Phyllis will be there soon. Why don’t you go into the bedroom and have a rest while you wait for her?”

“How can I rest with that wind blowing and those bloody coyotes howling? They sound like they’re right in the yard. I’m afraid, Jack. I don’t know what to do.”

“Mom, you need to lie down and rest for a while. Please go into your bedroom and lie down.”

“I can’t go in there. I don’t want to go in there.”

“What’s the matter, Mom?  Why don’t you want to go in there?”

“I can’t- he’s in there.”

“Who’s in there, Mom?”

“You know who’s in there. Baby Boy is in there. He’s in the coffin at the foot of the bed.”

“Oh God, Mom, at least sit down until Phyllis gets there. She’ll make you a cup of tea and everything will be better.”

“I don’t want any tea. I want you to come home. Hang on a minute, Jack; I hear a team and sled pulling into the yard. I’ll go to the door.”

“Don’t hang up the phone, Mom.

Is that you, Phyllis?”

“Yes, I’m here with Mom. I’ll leave the line open while I talk with her.

Now, Mom, what has got you so upset? Come over to the window with me and let’s have a look outside. Do you see the cars?  Do you see the buildings?  You’re in your apartment in Nova Scotia.  You’re not on the prairies and that was your son, Garry, on the phone, not your brother, Jack. He died a long time ago and so did Baby Boy.