Dust (16 page)

I led him only a few steps and he stopped. Burke’s head cocked, and he swallowed so predominantly, his entire neck moved. I could tell he saw Hebba, even though she was a good twenty feet away. He saw her. Immediately, he pulled from my lead and rushed over, zigzagging his body between the cots.

I hurried behind him, losing my breath from anxiousness instead of movement. I wanted to be there as a sense of support for when he saw her. Somehow a part of me expected him to cry out. To yell at the top of his lungs, and curse God, man, the government—anything. Burke didn’t.

In such a loss of what to do, Burke’s hands lifted momentarily over Hebba, then Burke dropped down to one knee and his head fell forward to the cot.

Silence.

***

Taking Hebba from the rescue station wasn’t as easy as just picking her up and bringing her with us. Her physical condition was delicate, and in order to move her we had to move her while she was on the cot. A hindrance that Burke and I assumed would lessen with the arrival of the evening hours. I thought that maybe I could pull some strings with my newfound acquaintance Tanner Niles. But that brainstorm quickly departed because Tanner wasn’t in the tent, and looking for him wasn’t an option.

We decided to wait until nightfall, hoping that Hebba could hold on until then. In the meanwhile I had to go and check on my family. It was my reasoning for leaving, along with excuse. I couldn’t stay at the rescue station another minute. Not with all the sickness, the death, Hebba crying out in cat-like screams, and Burke just staring with a cold expression. Burke and I talked some. Not much, but enough to convey the needed plan.

I expected to be bombarded with questions when I returned to the shelter. To my surprise, not only was it quiet, but Rod was playing watchdog, holding Burke’s shotgun at the bottom of the basement stairs.

“What’s going on?” I asked Rod. “It’s quiet.”

“Craig’s next door. Dan’s preparing a delightful split pea soup for us all and Nicky is playing kindergarten teacher.”

“What?”

“Curtain number two.” Rod pointed.

I followed Rod’s instructions and walked to the second partition area. “I’m back.” I called out, opening the curtain. Upon entering I saw what Rod meant. Nicky had Davy, Matty, and Simon on the floor before her. Empty baby food jars were sprawled about, and the bag of topsoil was neatly opened.

“Look, Jo.” Nicky smiled pleasantly, and spoke eerily upbeat. “We’ve started the seedlings. Craig said radiation levels have fallen enough to place the jars in the sunlight. Get them growing so we can take them to the cabin and be farmers. Right kids?”

Simon brightly looked at me. “I’m planting peas.”

“Are you? Good boy.” I said. “What a good job. Matty? What are you planting?”

Matty brought her one shoulder nearly to her ear in a half-shrug. She murmured, “Corn.”

“Davy?” I asked.

Less than enthused, Davy answered, “Oats.”

“And I’m planting carrots.” Nicky smiled. “This was a great idea on your part, Jo. Really.”

“Thanks.” I didn’t know how to react to Nicky’s behavior. I wondered if it was a front for the kids.

“Jo? How’s Hebba?” Nicky asked. “Was she happy to see Burke? Tell her we hope she gets well, and we’re getting a nice room ready for her next door at our new home. Aren’t we kids? Do you think she’ll like that, Jo?”

Did Nicky seriously expect me to answer? My mouth opened, and I couldn’t even speak. Hope she gets well?
 
Nice room? Our new home? The best I could do was muster up a nod and step out of the area.

No sooner did I do so, and Davy followed.

“Mom.” He breathed out. “She is gone.”

“Davy, when did she ... ” As I turned to Davy, I caught glimpse of Rod on the stairs. “Rod? Did you give Nicky something?”

“Nope.” Rod shook his head. “Don’t blame me. Blame the old man from down the street.”

“Davy?” I questioned. “What does he mean?”

Davy shrugged. “It was the weirdest thing, Mom. We went down to find the old man. We did. But he didn’t want to come. Nicky started talking really nice to him to try to convince him. Since then she hasn’t stopped talking perky.”

I gave a quirky look. “Well, that is really strange.”

Rod interjected, “I blame her for the old man not joining us. He’s probably scared.”

“Should I be?” I asked. “She’s with my kids.”

Rod flung out his hand in a ‘don’t be silly’ fashion. “She’s fine.”

At that moment the cellar door opened unexpectedly. It startled me some, and I looked when I heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

“Halt.” Rod lifted the shotgun. “Who goes there?”

“You’re not funny,” Craig said then finished coming down the steps. “Put down the gun or I’m telling Burke. Hey, Jo ... ” He approached me. “I thought I heard you. Where’s Burke?”

“He’s still at the rescue station.”

“Still?” Craig looked puzzled. He walked directly over to the ‘clean-up’ section of the basement. “Did Rod tell you that Tammy radioed?”

“No.” I followed Craig, Davy tagged behind. “Is she all right?”

“I guess. She didn’t find her son, but she has news. She said she won’t say over the radio and when she tells us tomorrow we’ll know why.” Craig stood before the double stationary tub. “Dan? Can you?”

“Oh, sure.” Dan stepped away from the pot where lunch was cooking. He bent down to under the stationary tub and lifted a bucket. From it he pulled a turkey baster, and squeezed the bulb, exasperating water into it. Craig stood by the sink, then Dan proceeded to unload the baster of water slowly over Craig’s extended arms and hands.

“Thanks.” Craig accepted the ‘clean up’ towel from Dan.

“No, problem.” Dan replaced the bucket and returned to cooking.

“So ... ” As he spoke, Craig proceeded to do what we called ‘phase two’ of the cleaning process—the sanitizer. “What’s going on with Hebba? You didn’t say much when you left.”

Dan stepped forward to the conversation. “Except you found her and she was burnt.”

“Is she bad, Mom?” Davy asked.

I looked upon the eyes that awaited my answer. Exhaling heavily, I reached for a chair and sat down. “It’s awful. She is so ... so bad.”

“Well,” Dan cleared his throat. “Then I don’t understand why we’re getting ready for her. Why not leave her at the station. If she’s that bad, she’s going to die anyway.”

“Dude.” Davy snapped. “You’re such an asshole.”

Shaking my head, I only mumbled out my retaliatory response, which I was certain no one could understand. “That’s the plan.”

“What?” Dan asked.

“Never mind.” I shook my head again.

Craig pulled up a chair and sat down. “Jo, she can’t be dying. I know things probably just seem bad ... ”

“She is, Craig.” I cut him off. “There is no way she can live. You should see her. Oh, my God. There are some parts of her body that were just ... ” I tensed up. “Gone. Burnt off.”

Craig drew silent. He slowly sat back in his chair. “There has to be a mistake.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked hard. “I was there. I saw her. Are you saying I’m exaggerating?”

“No. No.” Craig held up his hand. “Did you think about it, though? Jo, the rescue station just opened. The bombs fell two weeks ago. Without proper medical attention, care, shelter, with burns that severe, how in the hell did Hebba survive two weeks? It doesn’t make any sense. None at all.”

Craig was right. But what could I say? How could I respond? Nothing made sense anymore. Hebba. The world. Nothing. And second-guessing, or questioning wasn’t going to help or give answers that just weren’t there. Unfortunately we were in a new phase of living. Accept and move on, that’s all we could do.

***

Tanner Niles looked like a heavenly figure, maybe even an angel, when he walked into the tent. He wasn’t a tall man, yet he towered above the cots that only came to his thighs. He was wearing unsoiled hospital scrubs, his hair was wet, and Tanner held an entire air of ‘refreshed and clean’. He was a complete contrast as he waded through a river of darkness. Encircled by cots and makeshift beds, patients covered by stained and dirty linens, Tanner was like a speck of light in the midst of all the black.

I had arrived at the station just before dark, and was there an hour with Burke before Tanner showed up. In fact, immediately upon his entrance, he caught my attention away from my conversation with Burke.

“Jo?” Burke called my name.

“I’m ... sorry.” I withdrew from my stare of Tanner.

Burke peered over his shoulder, spotted Tanner then returned to me. “OK, I still don’t understand why you need to talk to him.”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged and fiddled some with Hebba’s blanket. “Maybe he can stop us from getting in trouble or something when we take her.”

“It’s a waste. He doesn’t know you, he probably can care less. So no getting pissed when he blows you off.”

“I understand. I’ll be back.” I inched away then stopped. Over Hebba I leaned to Burke, bringing my face close, connecting our eyes to convey my seriousness. “Burke? Are you sure? Are you really sure?”

Burke looked at me, then down to Hebba. His saddened eyes raised my way again. “There’s no choice. You know it, she knows it ... I know it.”

Quietly I slipped back, saying no more. Walking around the cot, I noticed that Tanner had spotted me. He looked over my way with a quizzical expression that seemed to question my being at the rescue station. As I moved his way, he held up a finger, gave a single nod, lifted the ends of his stethoscope to his ears and turned toward a patient. I waited.

It didn’t take him long to do what he needed to do. A paper dangled from a string on the edge of the patient’s cot, Tanner lifted it, wrote something down, and then turned again. Before I could take a step to shorten the distance that separated us, Tanner caught my attention, gave a motion of his head to the left, and pointed outward.

Figuring he was conveying that he had to leave again, I nodded and turned. In making my way back to Hebba, it didn’t take long for Tanner’s hand to startle me when it lay upon my shoulder.

“Jo.”

I jumped, spun around and grabbed my chest. “You scared me. I thought you were leaving.”

Softly he chuckled, “I was trying to get you to come outside with me.”

“Oh.” I was slightly embarrassed, but only for a second, then I became confused. “Why?”

“You wanted to talk to me about your friend, right?” he indicated to Hebba.

“Yes, I did.”

“Then come outside. Please.”

“What about Burke?”

Tanner glanced over to Burke. After exhaling heavily, he looked at me with raised eyebrows and whispered, “Come outside.”

‘Oh boy,’ was the only response I could give.

I felt Tanner’s hand barely rest upon my back in guidance, and I looked over to Burke. Burke was engrossed. In thought maybe, or even prayer, either way he didn’t notice I was leaving, so I continued in my exit with Tanner.

“What’s going on?” I asked as we stepped outside. I don’t know why it surprised me or even was deserving of my attention, but when Tanner lit up a cigarette, I was taken aback.