8 A War of Words
I woke up to the sight of Kate working through her yoga routines. When she finished, she said, “Okay, Mac. Your turn.”
I stowed the bed, and she started me on some yoga. “These postures will maintain your strength and mobility.”
She finished it off with dumbbells. Five pounds each. “No need to strain. We aren’t training you for Mr. America, but we can put that down as a goal if you like.”
After breakfast, we drove to the Lewis & Clark Interpretive Trail and Visitor Center a couple of miles away. The three-story-high museum houses thousands of feet of exhibits highlighting the scientific accomplishments of the Discovery Corps. The plant and animal specimens Lewis sent back were a revelation to Jefferson. Life on the newly acquired western plains was going to be very different from life on the east coast. French Canadian hunters and trappers like Toussaint Charbonneau, the husband of Sacagawea, most likely knew all about those plants and animals but had no reason to share their knowledge. Indians like Sacagawea, who lived their entire lives on the Great Plains, were undoubtedly familiar with the flora and fauna. The Native Americans also knew the geography well enough to guide Lewis and Clark on their journey.
I paused to survey the first floor from the middle of the room and said, “I don’t know how to put this.”
Kate looked up from a display of prairie flowers. “Put what?”
“I’m overwhelmed and disappointed at the same time.”
“We’ve been here twenty minutes. What did you expect?”
“A revelation. An Aha moment.”
“Isn’t this a textbook, like Clark’s hill?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “It tells us what life on the Great Plains was like when Lewis and Clark came through. But,” I shook my head, “all I get from it is a sense of what we’ve lost.”
“So, if you got a chance to talk to Meriwether, you would tell him ‘great job, but it was a complete waste’?”
“Naw. I’ve had my share of projects that fell into that category. It’s best to forget them.”
##
We took a path that led to a bluff overlooking the Missouri River. The trail continued along the ridge above the river to an intersecting path that meandered back to the museum. A structure a dozen yards from the main building caught our attention. It looked something like a man-made cave but, it also had features of an igloo. Turf sloped away from the roof, which looked like an upside-down saucer made of sticks and small branches. The igloo-like entrance was an anteroom seven feet high, seven feet wide and seven feet deep. This was the Plains Indian Earth Lodge Exhibit.
Inside, it was a marvel of engineering. The one-room structure was large enough to accommodate a dozen or more people. The main floor was below ground level to take advantage of geothermal effects. A fireplace sat in the center of the room directly below a smoke-exhaust hole in the roof. A raised level ran along the outside wall. Platforms had been set up on this level like Captain’s beds with storage space below and sleeping space on top. Storage spaces for perishables had been crafted into the floor.
As we left, Kate stopped to read a signboard with information about the exhibit. She looked up and said. “Women built these homes and owned them.”
I scanned the sign. “Did you notice the beams holding up the roof?”
She shrugged. I continued, “Men cut the logs and put them in place before any other work was done.”
“But the lodges belonged to the women because they built them.”
“I guess that proves women have always been capable engineers when they wanted to do the work.” I paused and smiled. “But women in Europe and Asia were smart enough to get men to do the work for them.”
“A woman can do anything a man can do.”
I nodded. “But for centuries they didn’t. Chimpanzees are the same. Female chimps can fight as well as males, but they send the men out on patrol to guard their territory.”
“Men run the world. Women put up with it to survive.”
“Some men do. Most trudge through life, struggling to keep themselves and their families afloat. Women push men to give them what they want. Sometimes that backfires.”
“Women were only allowed to work outside the home because men were off fighting wars. Wars which by the way men started. We had to fight for the right to vote.”
“Men had to fight for the right to vote as well. You just don’t remember that part of it. Democracy began in Sparta when men refused to serve in the army unless they had a say in running the state.”
“Why just men?” Kate howled. “Shouldn’t the women have a say as well?”
“You would have to ask them. I wasn’t around at the time.”
“Mac, Abigail Adams lobbied for women’s rights back in 1776 when the Constitution was drawn up. The final wording is all men, but it means all white men.”
“You’re right. We white men have fucked things up.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I concede your point. White men like me are a plague.”
“That’s condescending.”
“There’s only one way this ends: you’re right, and I’m wrong.”
“Stop patronizing me. You are wrong.”
“I accept that. If you want me to kiss the ground in obeisance, forget it. I can’t get up once I’m down there.”
She sneered, “You can be a real ass.”
Another spell hit. A feeling of weakness spread upward from my legs through my chest and shoulders. The sun burned my skin like a heat lamp. Wooziness came and went like a wave. It passed in seconds.
“Yeah. Look, I’m going back to the camper.”
“What is wrong with you?”
“I’m a white man. That’s not going to change. If you don’t like it, go home. I’ll pay for the flight.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re in no condition to drive to your cousin’s home in Alaska. You need me.”
“I don’t need this. Get me a fucking gun. I’ll put an end to it right now, and you can stop worrying about me.”
“Mac!”
I was ready to explode. Blowing my brains out would have been no problem if I had a gun. I had decided against that months ago. Now I was wondering if I had made the right decision. I started walking back to the camper.
Kate caught up and stepped in front of me. “What’s going on, Mac? I was just talking to you.”
I still had to make it through the museum and out to the parking lot. I took a couple of deep breaths to regain some control. “I’m tired of talking.”
“Can’t I talk to you about what it’s like to be a woman in this society?”
“You can talk about anything you want. But I can’t stand people who have to win conversations.”
I moved to go around her, but she moved with me. “What does that mean?”
“It means that you had to vent and decided to make me your scapegoat.”
“I did nothing of the kind.”
“I tried to end the conversation. You wouldn’t let it go. Now I’m trying to get back to the RV, and you’re blocking me.”
Kate took a step back. “I’m sorry.”
I walked past her. She called out, “Where are you going?”
“To get a drink and calm down.”
“What about me?”
“That’s your problem.” I shrugged. “Book a flight to St. Louis.”
I was feeling normal by the time I reached the steps leading to the main building. I paused and looked around as I opened the door. Kate was a few steps behind me. I held the door until she caught up then made my way through the displays and out the front door.
I went straight to the back of the camper for a half cup of scotch. Kate went to the front. She puttered around while I made myself comfortable on the sofa. After a few minutes, she came to the back. “I’ve got your book set up.”
“My book?”
“Your audiobook, Call of the Wild.”
I looked up at her. “And?”
“I thought we could listen to it while I drive up to Council Bluffs.”
I took a drink and savored the fire as it went down. Never admit you’re wrong. Never apologize. I pulled the keys out of my pocket and handed them to her.