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Barney's Version - Mordecai Richler [36]

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of allergy pills and asked to be released for health reasons. It was discovered that Donald Potter, Jr., was surreptitiously squirting contact-lens fluid into his eyes in the bathroom, not sharing with the two comrades who had run out of theirs. Potter was denounced. He countered by accusing the others of being prejudiced against gays. Molly Zucker pleaded to be let out on Thursday for her appointment with her analyst, but the vote went against her. The toilets, which hadn’t been flushed for days, became unendurable. So, on the ninth day of the siege, the frustrated 18th of November Fifteen decided to walk out in time for the CBC-TV National News deadline. They marched out in a disciplined file, heads held high, saluting with clenched fists even as they were loaded into the waiting paddy wagon. I stood watching, a distraught Miriam at my side, digging her nails into the palm of my hand hard enough to make me wince.

Beneath Miriam’s seemingly serene nature, there was a woman warrior waiting to leap out. Put another way, anybody going for a stroll in the woods in our country knows enough not to wittingly pass between a bear and her cubs, but I would rather risk a mauling by a grizzly any day than threaten Miriam’s children.

“Will they beat up Saul once they get him into the station?” she demanded.

“They won’t mess with this bunch. Some of their parents are too well connected. Besides, there are lawyers waiting with bail, John Hughes-McNoughton among them. Saul will be home tomorrow morning.”

“We’re going to follow the paddy wagon to the station and warn those bastards if they so much as lay a finger on Saul —”

“Miriam, that’s not the way to handle it.”

Her hot tears notwithstanding, I insisted on driving her home. “You think I’m not worried? Of course I am,” I said. “But you’re such an innocent. You have no idea how things work. You don’t get anywhere threatening the cops. Or signing petitions. Or writing letters to the editor. What you do here is sweet-talk the right people, spreading a little vigorish where it counts. And that’s what Hughes-McNoughton and I will be up to, starting tomorrow.”

“We could at least go down to the station and sit there until he gets out on bail in the morning.”

“Miriam, no.”

“I’m going.”

“The hell you are.”

We began to struggle, and finally she collapsed in my arms, heaving with sobs, which did not subside until I led her to bed. Five a.m. I found her pacing up and down in the living room, where she greeted me with her most chilling look. “God help you, Barney Panofsky, but you’d better be right about how to handle this.”

“Don’t worry,” I said, but the truth was that my confidence was more than somewhat forced.

Saul was released on bail later that morning. Undeniably the ringleader, he was accused, among other things, of disturbing the peace and of the wilful destruction of private property. Nobody knew precisely what charges would be laid by Wellington, but as I hastily explained to Miriam, Calvin Potter, Sr. was on the board of governors and Marty Holtzman’s father sat in Trudeau’s cabinet.

After breakfast I compiled a list of helpful names and then I called Saul into the library, Miriam and Kate trailing after to protect him. “I don’t want you to worry, comrade,” I said. “Maître Hughes-McNoughton is going to see some people here, and I’m going to meet with others in Ottawa.”

“Yeah, sure. That figures. This society is rotten to the core.”

“Lucky for you it is, because you’re facing two years in the slammer is how John sees it, and I’ve been there, you won’t like it. So you are not to say a word to reporters or any other running dogs of imperialism until this is over. No manifestos. No pensées of Chairman Saul. Understand?”

“Will you please not threaten him,” said Miriam.

“I’m willing to listen to you, Mom, because you don’t find it necessary to shout in order to make your feeble points, and you don’t contribute funds to the upkeep of the Israeli army of occupation in the homeland of the Palestinians.”

“Saul, prison isn’t what you think it is. If they lock you up for only six

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