Konnae's Cane's Caper

By Ted Ross

I am a walking cane. I was fashioned out of locally grown wood on the other side of the world by caring hands.

I started as a young willow tree growing in wet bottomlands in Taiwan. My diameter was correct for a cane when harvesters selected and cut me from my roots, along with many of my forest-mates. In bundles we were taken to a manufacturing facility. There we were unbundled, peeled and set on racks, under a roof, but open to the air, to dry. Like the others who came from my bundle, I was allowed to dry and cure for a full year. Then those skilled and caring hands took me from my rack to the workshop where canes are fabricated from willow poles.

I was cut to the correct length for a cane. My creator allowed for the portion which would be taken by the curved handle when making the cut. I was marked at the handle end to indicate the part which would be curved. Then cuts were made through 2/3 of my diameter in several parallel places along that section. The cuts were filled with wood glue.

Next I was taken to a table. This table had pegs which stuck out in the shape of a cane's crook. My creator locked me to the table with a clamp at the handle end. Then I was pulled by my other end so that my handle end was forced around the pegs. The cuts lay toward the pegs. I was given gentle but steady pressure until my handle was formed, the cuts squeezing together as this took place. Then the end which had been pulled was clamped in place. I stayed clamped for 24 hours, allowing the glue to set.

After that time, I was unclamped. I had become a walking cane. My creator still had to sand off my rough spots. After doing a thorough job of sanding, the first of several coats of lacquer were applied. When it was dry, I was sanded and lacquered again. When that coat was dry I was sanded again and another coat applied. This happened four times. A fifth and final coat was applied. When it was dry my rubber-tip was installed, and I was ready for market.

I was packaged, and with many other packaged canes, became part of a shipment to Canada through Vancouver to go to market through drug stores and medical supply houses. In Canada I became part of a shipment to a supply house in Victoria, BC. It's there, many years back, that I found my owner and lifetime companion.

About twenty years ago Konnae H. had a bad fall. She broke two bones. She was unable to walk on her own; she needed help. With Mr H., she went to the medical supply store to find that assistance. I was hanging on a rack awaiting purchase by somebody needing me. My creator had made me a length suitable for a short person.

Konnae and Mr H. were sorting through the racks of canes when she lifted me and said, "I do believe that I have one the correct length for me, dear. It's also a nice blond colour. I like it."

Mr H. said, "We've looked at quite a few. If this is the one that'd suit you, let's get it!"

And so I became Konnae's cane. After a bit of a stumbly beginning, we became very good at walking together. I was there to support Konnae when her weakened leg was the one taking her weight. She came to depend on me as she moved about. We became constant companions; I was a member of the family with Konnae and Mr H.

Konnae and I did everything together. I was with her in her happy times. I was there in the dark days when Mr H. was taken from us. I've been her regular helper through her visits to New Horizons, where she has been involved for thirty years now. I've been to all the book club sessions, I've attended the meals, I've been to Friday Forum, I've done them all.

It was at a Friday Forum on April 12th this year that the 'incident' took place. Konnae had hung me to rest on the window-ledge of the main hall at New Horizons. She was taking part in the forum. A bearded fellow, wearing glasses, hung a cane next to me. He went about his forum business. I thought nothing of it. I was just waiting for Konnae's call for me when she was ready to go, but I didn't expect that for a while yet.

The bearded fellow gathered up his things. It looked like he was preparing to leave. He walked over to the window-ledge to pick up his cane...but...he picked up me!

"No, no," I screamed, but he couldn't hear me. "I'm not yours, darn it. I belong to Konnae H., and she really needs me. Have a heart!" And he still just ignored me. I could feel tears welling up.

He took me home. He lives in a nice place on St. Andrews Street, but I live in a nice place on Battery Street, not here where he's taken me. I called and called, "I'm not yours. I'm Konnae's. Can't you hear me?" But he couldn't.

Listening to his roommate, I came to know his name was Teddy. What was worse, I heard he was leaving in the morning for Chilliwack. Would he be taking me?

Morning came. Teddy brought his packed bag to the door, preparing to go to the bus stop. He picked me up in his left hand, bag in his right.

"NO, no," I screamed again. But we were gone to the bus. I supported him as he walked, what else could I do? We rode one bus, and then waited for another. The second took us to the ferry at Swartz Bay. We boarded to sail to Tswwassen. As we found a seat on the crowded ferry, I made one last plea, "Please sir, I am not your stick. I belong to Konnae H. Just look at the name and address tag I have attached. Please!"

This time Teddy must have finally heard me. A dull light flickered in his grey eyes as he noticed the name tag on me. I could hear his thoughts.

"What is that tag on my stick?" he wondered. "My stick has no tag like that. Let's have a look at it."

Teddy read the label, "Konnae Harresson, xx4-xx0 Battery Street, Victoria, BC." There was no phone number.

"Oh, my god," he said. "I've taken Konnae's cane yesterday and here I am on my way to Chilliwack with it. Oh, no!"

You can imagine my relief that he had finally awakened to what he'd done. And he was muttering!

"How did Konnae get home? I hope she used my cane. What is she doing without her stick? Oh, Teddy, you are some kind of an idiot!" he muttered and mumbled to himself. "I don't even have a phone number for her. I can't get to her until Monday. I'll just have to swallow it for now; there's nothing I can do."

And so Teddy took me on to Chilliwack. We rode a bus, a subway, skytrain, another bus, and were finally picked up in Langley in the afternoon. We went to son Andrew's place, in Chilliwack. We visited with his other son, Jonathan, daughter-in-law Lorri, and the two grandchildren.

For a cane from Victoria, this was all a pretty interesting trip, but I was so worried about Konnae that I had a lot of trouble enjoying myself. Teddy did use me for support, he had to, I was all he had. We got along well enough, but I just wanted to get back to Konnae.

We spent the night in Chilliwack with Teddy's family. I waited by the front door, except when Andrew and Teddy went to the store, when I went along to help Teddy. After lunch on Sunday, Andrew said, "I'll drive you to the ferry now." Teddy and I enjoyed the drive down the Fraser Valley with Andrew and Jonathan and Ella. I was so relieved to be in the car heading toward home that I actually started to worry a little less. There was hope my problem would be solved!

Teddy kissed his family good-bye, and, taking me for support, headed to the ferry home. After a pleasant crossing, we boarded the double-decker to go into town. There we took a bus to Teddy's home on Beacon Hill. Frustrated, I still wasn't home.

"What plans have you for me?" I asked.

I don't think Teddy actually heard me, but I did hear him saying, "I'm going to take Konnae's cane to her at nine in the morning," as if he had heard.

Sure enough, at ten minutes before nine in the morning Teddy arrived at the door where I was parked with another cane in his hand. He used that cane for walking and just carried me in his other hand, not asking for any support. I knew I was being taken home. Teddy had his own cane now.

We went out into the rainy morning. It was a wet, but pleasant walk to Battery Street, some three blocks away. Teddy carried me up to the apartment door I know so well and rang #xx4 on the intercom pad.

"Hello," came Konnae's familiar voice. My heart fluttered to hear it.

"Hello," Teddy said, "This is Ted Ross and I have something precious of yours."

"My cane?" questioned the voice, with a hopeful air.

"Your cane," Teddy replied. "It's been on a trip to Chilliwack with me."

"Oh, I'm so happy," Konnae replied. "I'll buzz the door open and you can leave it in the lobby!" she said in an elated voice.

And Teddy left me in the lobby. I had an unexpected, and I guess you could say, an unwanted trip to Chilliwack and back, but I suppose it was a bit exciting too. If only poor Konnae hadn't been left caneless!

With due apologies to Konnae Harresson, who suffered my idiocy with a smile and quite a bit of relief at its finish.