Pierre's Fight                                   May 18, 2000

     As usual I walked an extra block down the street to catch the bus so people would not think  I was with
 Pierre. After twenty minutes Pierre got on a bus. It was not the right bus, but it was heading in the general direction. 
 I followed his lead and got on the same bus when it got to me. 

      I knew from past experience that Pierre didn't want to stay in one place too long. The twenty minute wait was all 
he could stand in that place in town. In the woods he could
 stay days or months in one place, but it was different here.      
     

     At 21 Ave. West, Pierre picked up his heavy bags, got a transfer from the driver and got off the bus. I followed a block later. We would catch a Morris Thomas bus. I walked back a block to Pierre and kept going another block to keep my proper distance. Pierre didn't even look at me when I went by him. He was looking at some lizards in a
storefront display of a chair refinishing shop. A block away, I leaned against a brick building and waited. 

     I watched some pigeons as I kept an eye on Pierre out of the corner of my eye. Pierre kept watching the lizards
through the shop window. Then he sat down in a tall chair that was on the sidewalk. He figured he could probably stay there for days now that he had some animals to watch. Pierre was adjusting to life in the city. 

     Suddenly the owner of the shop came running out the door and yelled at Pierre, "Get off that chair, that is private property. Get out of here!" To my surprise, Pierre simply got up and walked a few yards, and leaned against the bus stop sign to let the man know he was going as far away as he intended. He had a right to be on the street to wait for the bus. 

     From a block away, I knew there would be trouble if the man put a hand on Pierre. I could see the man flying through the plate glass window to join his lizards. The man just gave Pierre a long stare and walked back into his shop. It was a stand off. 

     I could see things from the shop owner's point of view. Pierre was probably not helping bring in business. He did look a little different with his short pink and red bathrobe over a pair of jeans that he wore when he went to town. His face was covered with a winter's beard and his hair had not been in a barber shop in a year or felt the tug of a comb since he lost his comb when his truck went through the ice. He hadn't found a new comb yet. 

     With no lizards to watch, time dragged for Pierre so he started to pace. I figured I should get to Pierre before something broke loose. When I was only 50 feet away, the shop owner came out to look around. Finally Pierre spoke, "If you don't want people sitting on your chair, why don't take them off the sidewalk and keep them in your shop?" It seemed like a simple enough question, but I was close enough to see the look in Pierre's left eye. It burned into the man. I knew it was time to take out my notebook to jot down a few things for the upcoming court case. 

     The man screamed a few things at Pierre and Pierre answered in French, but it was not the language of love in this case. A few seconds later the man challenged Pierre to a fight on the street, but did not step toward Pierre. Pierre said a few more things in French, and stood his ground. 

     Pierre would not take the first punch, but his first counter chop would be so quick it would be difficult to know who did throw the first punch. It would have to be seen in slow motion to tell which came first, the punch or the counter chop. It wasn't something that Pierre practiced; it was a reflective action. 

     Sometimes it had been good for Pierre in the past and other times he had hurt some of his friends when they woke him up or touched him from behind when he was not expecting a touch. His friends had learned this,
but the shop owner did not know this about Pierre. 

     Pierre would not get into a fight during the months from
April to September. It was the good weather time of the year. In November when the cold wind came from the
north and snow started to fly, it would be a great time to be in jail. There would be no wood to chop or stove to
feed night and day. This was nearly May. There would be no fight from Pierre, but no stepping back. 

     When Pierre calmed down enough to speak in English again he said, "Let's hear what the police have to say about your challenge of a fight on the street." The shop owner said, "Go ahead, call them." Pierre felt it was his duty to
educate the man. 

     If the man had lived on the Northwest Angle, this type of behavior would never have happened. On the Angle Pierre could sit anywhere he wanted. If he needs a trailer to launch his boat in the spring, there were many to use. If someone needed his boat or canoe, it was there to use. If Pierre needed a snowmachine in the winter, he would try to find one that looked like Jim Dingle's, his friend. If it turned out not to be Jim's machine, Pierre would fill the strange machine with gas and take it back where he found it. It was the Angle way. People don't worry about little things, but go out of their way to help others. 

Thinking these thoughts, Pierre went into the Salvation Army shop across the street, and called the police. Even though he missed a bus up the hill, Pierre waited for the police to come and he told them his side of the story. The officers then went into the shop to hear the owner's side of the story. Nothing was done because there had been no fight on the street. 

     I was proud of Pierre. When another bus finally arrived, we got on the bus together and rode up the hill sitting next to each other. That night we decided it was time to go back to the Angle and we came up with a plan. Pierre had one thing to do before he left town. 

     Early in the morning, he went into the bathroom and cut off his beard completely and then he walked to a neighborhood barber shop and got a very short hair cut, one that would last him a year. Next he put on a suit and tie and a regular pair of shoes. He looked like a slick lawyer.

      Pierre keeps a Porsche in his mother's garage that he usually only drives to weddings and funerals. It had not been driven for two years. He jumped the battery with his truck and headed for the West End. He only made two stops - a Fanny Farmer store and the chair repair shop.

     Pierre asked me go into the shop a few minutes before he entered. I pretended to be interested in some used chairs. Soon Pierre walked in with a box of candy. He asked the owner if a crazy looking, street person had been near his shop the day before. The owner said yes and explained how the crazy looking guy had called the police on him. "Mr. Pierre" then gave the man the box of Fanny Farmer candy and thanked the owner several times for not fighting with his "brother". 

     He explained how his brother had not been normal since the Vietnam War. After being trained to kill with his hands, it is difficult for his "brother" to walk away from a fight. "Mr. Pierre" then went on to explain how his brother has had a "good streak" going since he got out of prison for breaking a man's neck. However, if the owner should ever see that "brother" again, be sure to keep his distance and don't provoke him.

     The shop owner thanked "Mr. Pierre" for the warning and said he would be watching for his "brother" at all
times and would not say anything to him if he did see him. He and everyone else was welcome to use his products that were on the street from now on. It would be good for business to provide a service to people waiting for the bus. 

     I, Eagle Watcher, agreed with that idea and bought a small boat cushion and walked out of the store and down the street a block. I watched as the shop owner walked "Mr. Pierre" to his car and thanked him for the warning and the candy. Pierre picked me up and we drove to his mother's place.

      After parking his truck in the garage, Pierre put on some of his new St. Vincent de Paul clothes on and we drove the Porsche back to Lake of the Woods. We saw four eagles on the way, and a fresh road kill. We passed the road kill since it was nearly the opening of fishing season. Who want s road kill when we could be eating walleye. Pierre also found a good baseball cap to keep the sun out of his eyes for the summer. Things were looking good.