The Road Les Travelled by Chris Fisher

Author:Chris Fisher
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Saskatchewan, Hockey, NHL, Hall of Fame, Family, Road Trip, Family, Father, Ailing Father, Humour
ISBN: 9781550509991
Publisher: Coteau Books

For the Carsons. Enjoy!

From your Sears Family

“That’s some company you work for,” Dad said.

Uncle had come into the living room munching peanuts.

“There’s chips, chocolate bars, beer nuts, pretzels, everything,” he said.

“You just help yourself?” Dad asked. “How do you know it’s for us?”

“It’s our room,” Uncle said, tossing Dad a peanut. “Does that flashing light mean anything?”

He was pointing at the phone on the desk.

“Somebody left us a message,” I said, picking up the handset.

“Probably mother,” Dad said. “Woman can’t live without me.”

I pushed the button and followed the instructions.

“Mr. Carson, it’s the Toronto Star calling. Please call Drew Thompson when you get in: 547-6891, extension 53. We’d like to do an interview for tomorrow’s edition. It will go out on the wire and the Western papers will pick it up from there. Please call Drew, 547-6891, extension 53, before you go to the game.”

I wrote down the name and number. “Some guy from the Toronto Star wants to do an interview,” I said.

“You talk,” Dad said. “I’m going to lie down.”

Uncle said, “I’m going down to the lobby to look around.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll call this guy, and you get some rest, Dad. Uncle, don’t go too far, especially underground. You can walk for miles down there and it’s easy to get turned around.”

“I’m from the city, too, remember?”

“That’s Moose Jaw, Uncle. There’s more people working in this Hotel than in all of downtown Moose Jaw. It’s four, so just be back within an hour. We’ll need to get ready to go.”

Once Uncle left, Dad checked out both bedrooms and chose the one closest to the bathroom. I pulled the curtains while he took his pill and got ready for his needle.

Once Dad was settled on top of his king-sized bed, I went back to the living room and dialed the reporter’s number.

“Star.”

“Drew Thompson, please.”

“You’ve got her.”

“I must have the wrong number. My message was from a man.”

“Who’s this?”

“I’m Les Carson, calling from the Royal York. I had a message to call...”

“Mr. Carson, you do have the right number. Larry, our administrative assistant, makes all our appointments. It frees us up to do what we do best.”

“Okay, Miss Thompson, how do you want to start?”

“Let’s start by you calling me Drew, and I’ll call you Les.”

“Fair enough, Drew. What would you like to know?”

“What possessed you to drive three days to visit Toronto?”

“It was four days, and I had some spare time.”

“Come on, Les. I’ve driven that road. No one makes that trip if they don’t have to.”

“What possessed you to make it?” I asked.

“I had to. I’m originally from Weyburn; took Jour-nalism at the U of R. I got this job through a school interview, and then couldn’t afford to fly. Besides, I had my futon to haul out.”

“Everywhere you go,” I said, “you meet someone from Saskatchewan.”

“That’s why I took the story, because someone purposely driving that road for three or four days with relatives along intrigued me.”

“Well, it’s not as intriguing as it may seem. Dad wanted to see the Hockey Hall of Fame, and, because of his heart, he can’t fly.

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