Chapter 12 #4
“We’ve been making uniforms for four years.
It’ll be nice seeing our usual production again.
” They had filled their last military order in November.
It was finally over. Then she thought of something.
Thor and Walter had been friends and worked side by side.
She had seen them together, although she didn’t know Walter well.
“Have you seen Thor Lindqvist?” she asked him.
Lately she’d been afraid to ask the question, as the answer was usually a sad one.
“He’s back,” Walter said and didn’t elaborate. She didn’t want to press him.
“Is he okay?”
“He’s been in a hospital in Liverpool. He’s in the hospital here in Manchester now.
He’ll be all right,” Walter said, but he didn’t sound convincing.
His answer troubled her, and she thought of Thor again on the way home.
She didn’t want to intrude on him. They hadn’t been friends.
In fact, they had only been friendly because he had saved her from the strike, just before he left.
Walter’s words haunted her all night, and she called the hospital in the morning before she left for work.
She got the information easily. Thor was in a male ward.
They didn’t volunteer what was wrong with him and she was afraid to ask.
It gnawed at her all day, and she drove past the hospital on the way home.
She thought of him alone, without family or a wife.
She didn’t know if it was wrong, but she decided to go in and see him. Maybe he needed help.
They directed her to the main male ward, and as she stood in the doorway, looking down the two long rows of beds, she saw Thor sitting in a wheelchair, looking out the window.
It was already dark outside. She could see that he was thinner, and his shoulders slumped as he sat in the wheelchair.
She walked down the long room and stopped a few feet away from him.
He was wearing a hospital bathrobe and had a blanket on his lap.
“Thor?” she said gently. He turned the chair so he could see her, and he looked shocked when he did.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you. I saw Walter yesterday. He said you were in the hospital, so I called, and I thought I’d stop by for a few minutes in case you want a visit.” He hesitated and she could see his lip tremble and he closed his eyes, and then he looked straight at her.
“What else did he tell you?” He looked angry when he said it. She had seen that look before.
“Nothing.” She wasn’t sure if he was happy to see her or not. He didn’t look it. Like so many other men coming home, he looked ravaged.
“Did he tell you about this?” He picked up the blanket covering him in the chair and she could see that he had lost a leg. She was shocked and tried not to show it. She remembered their running from the strike.
“No, he didn’t tell me about that,” she said softly, and leaned against his bed, facing him in the chair. “I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re alive though.” He didn’t look as though he was.
“I was going to call you, but it seemed pathetic. I can’t work now. I’m useless.”
“There are a lot of things you can do,” she said.
“I liked my old job,” he said, feeling sorry for himself.
“You wanted to teach,” she reminded him, and he smiled a small smile.
“You remembered that.”
“I was jealous of you because you went to university and I couldn’t. That was my dream.”
“What about you?” Thor asked her. She looked so neat and clean and elegant, like a vision from another life. He had forgotten how beautiful she was. And she had come to see him. He had thought about her a million times in the trenches. He used to dream about her.
“I’m okay. We’ve been making uniforms for four years on a government contract.”
“Smart move. Was that your idea?” he asked. Just talking to her about mundane things brought him back to life.
“It was. And all the factories are full of women. Some of them are staying, a lot of them.”
“I know.” He grinned. “Walter told me. The men hate it.”
“They’ll get used to it. Half of the women are leaving. I won’t fire the others. They need the jobs too, especially the widows with kids, and there are a lot of them.”
“That sounds like you.”
“The other mills are firing all the women. I won’t do that. But the women don’t make the same money the men do, so they’re mad too. It’s hard to keep everybody happy.” He nodded.
“Can I bring you some food tomorrow?” He liked the idea of seeing her again. “Do you like haggis?”
“I love it. Why? Can you cook it?” He looked surprised.
“No, but my cook can.” He laughed.
“You can run eight mills and four thousand employees, you don’t need to cook.”
“Thank you.” She smiled at him. “How long will you be here?”
“Until I can take care of myself. They want to give me a prosthesis. I’d rather sit in the chair.”
“That doesn’t sound like you,” she said gently. “Not the fiery guy who used to glare at me and look fierce and scare me to death.”
“I’m not fierce anymore,” he said, and she could see the war in his eyes.
“You don’t need to be. All you need is to get headed in the right direction, and keep going. The rest can come later. Do you want me to find a job for you?” She was willing to do that for him.
“Doing what? I can’t work in the mill from a wheelchair.”
“There are other jobs, better ones than foreman. You’re capable of them. The transition is going to be hard with men and women working side by side, and doing our old work that the women aren’t used to. We avoided a riot yesterday.”
“I couldn’t save you the way I am now.”
“You might, with a different job. There are different ways to save people.” He looked to her like he couldn’t save himself, or hadn’t found the way to yet. But she wasn’t about to give up on him. He couldn’t stay the way he was now, broken and defeated.
“I can’t come back to work for you like this.”
“If you want to, you can. We don’t need to talk about that now. Do you need clothes?”
“You don’t like my pajamas?” He smiled, and looked like his old self.
“They’re lovely, with the hospital’s name all over them. Where are you living?” She remembered his dismal shack, and oddly, she had felt safe there.
“Here, for as long as I want.” She thought that was bad too.
“Are you sick?” she asked him.
“This isn’t enough?”
“Maybe not.”
“No, I’m not sick. I’m crippled.”
“That’s up to you. There are others in worse shape.” He looked insulted. “Maybe you should try the prosthesis.” She could see he didn’t want to. “I’ll come by tomorrow if you want me to.”
“Sure. If you want.” He acted as though he didn’t care, but he did. He was happy she had found him. She was like a huge ray of sunshine in the dreary room full of injured men. It seemed like a miracle that she had just appeared. Like an angel.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said gently, lightly touched his shoulder, and left. She was almost to the door of the ward when he called out to her.
“Don’t forget my haggis!” She laughed and gave him a wave, and disappeared out the door.
She thought about him all the way home. He was back and he had survived the war, and she was happy to see him.
She had no idea what it meant, or why she cared so much, but she did.
He had saved her once, now it was her turn to save him.
It seemed like the least she could do after what he’d been through.