Dust (26 page)

It was an all-go, the time was at hand, and then Tammy started to react. I suppose seeing Burke raise the ax had a lot to do with it. Rod and I held her tight, but it was a struggle.

“Hold her better.” Tanner instructed.

“We’re trying.” I replied.

Burke grunted. “I can’t . . . if she’s gonna move her arm. Craig, stand on her hand.”

“What!” Craig gasped in shock.

Tammy’s loud, ‘No!’ was screeching as she thrashed back and forth.

Tanner held tight to Tammy’s ankles and looked at Rod and me. “Guys, come on.”

Rod snapped, “We’re trying. Can’t Nicky help . . .” Before Rod could even finish his sentence, Tammy swung out, knocked me back, kicked out at Tanner, and rolled to get to her feet. Rod was quick, just as Tammy stood; he swung out his legs and tripped her.

Tammy sailed face first to the ground.

I was stunned; I regained my balance and saw as Craig hurried to Tammy.

He reached for her, and she immediately fought him. “We should have knocked her out!” Craig shouted.

“We can’t.” Tanner said, reaching out trying to help control Tammy. “If we use what we have to knock her out, then we won’t have enough for her later.”

“Chance it.” Craig argued.

“After the removal, the shock will make her pass...” he grunted as he tried to hold on to her. “Pass out. Can someone help here!”

Growling almost, Tammy’s head went back and forth. “Let me go! Let me go!”

Burke raged over to her. “This is ridiculous. Fuck it. Let her go.”

“Let’s just knock her out.” Craig implored. “Tanner!”

“Fine.” Tanner gave up. “We’ll knock her out. Burke we’re knocking her out.”

“Fuck, why do I always get the dirty jobs?” he complained.

Tanner muttered in confusion. “What are you talking about? We just need to knock her out.”

“Fine!” Burke blasted, and then before anything could be said, with a tightly closed fist, he landed a solid punch square in Tammy’s jaw.

She stopped screaming, her legs wobbled, and Tammy passed out.

The garage went quiet.

Rod cleared his throat, and spoke in a whisper to me, “Well, that took care of that.”

Burke breathed heavily, looking at Tammy, a look of aggravation was across his face.

Tanner stared at Burke for a second before speaking, “We were … I meant we were gonna use … never mind.” He shook his head. “Good job. Let’s do this.”

The three men carried Tammy back over to the tent and laid her down. Positions were taken again; only this time, it seemed tenser.

Burke lifted the ax. In a raspy, low voice he called to Craig, “Can you secure the board? Please?”

Craig nodded and walked over to Tammy’s arm. He used his foot to nudge up her fingers and her slid his foot under her hand on the board. “Go on.” He said, and turned his head.

Tanner gazed up to Burke. “Don’t think about it, just do it. Put all your anger, hurt and emotions into that one swing. Got it?”

Burke nodded.

I watched Burke. He swallowed hard, and a thin line a sweat formed on his brow. Knees slightly bent, his hands gripped the handle, tensing up and releasing several times before Burke raised the ax. It was coming, Burke’s jaw tightened, and his eyes aimed. I didn’t want to watch. The flex of the muscle in Burke’s right forearm was my clue. I closed my eyes, and turned my head just as the ax ‘whooshed’ through the air. My entire body jolted when I heard the steel blade hit the concrete of the floor.

“Oh, God.” Rod groaned out. “He cut right through.”

“Now!” Tanner called out.

There was too much happening, too fast. I couldn’t think. My head spun, my stomach knotted. Tammy began to scream, loud, shrill, and ear piercing. Burke had dropped the ax and cradled his arm with a look of pain.

Tanner tried to hold down the remainder of Tammy’s arm. It squirmed beneath his hold, and despite the tourniquet, blood oozed quickly from the severed site. “Water, hurry.” Tanner instructed and lifted his eyes to Nicky.

How in the world Nicky remained so calm was beyond me. She crouched down some with the bucket tilted, and though she poured very little water, a river had formed in the garage.

Dan gave a warning call of, “Watch out! Coming through,” as he reached into the garage with a glowing red pan. He dropped the pan on the floor as pre-planned.

I just wanted it all to stop. The noise and hysteria conveyed through Tammy’s agonizing cries were unbearable.

“Someone grab the arm.” Tanner called out as he wrapped a towel around the handle of the pan. “Jo, grab the arm and hold it.”

I didn’t want to, but I was closest. I scooted over an inch, and reached out with my shaking hands. I wasn’t even sure I had enough strength to hold on to her. My fingers slid through the blood trying to get a grip, and when I did, I nodded to Tanner.

“Lift it.” Tanner said as he turned his body holding the pan. “Higher, Jo.”

I raised her arm in a higher angle.

“Turn your head.” Tanner dictated. “Now, Jo!” he brought the pan to Tammy’s arm.

I followed his instructions, but was clueless as to why I had to turn away. The reason became clear, when Tanner brought the hot pan to the open wound. Like water on a scalding surface, the sizzle of heat against wetness sent a mist of steaming blood flying my way. I felt it spray against my face, my ear. My neck tensed, and I refrained from opening my mouth to scream.

The second time Tanner brought and secured the pan to Tammy’s severed limb, he not only cauterized the wound—he brought silence to the garage. The pain and shock took hold of Tammy, her head fell to the side and she passed out. In the after moments of it all, we just stopped. Barely a breath sound was heard, or a word muttered. Reactions were suspended … we just couldn’t move.

***

Tanner had more than just Tammy to attend to, but she took first priority. He did the best he could, wrapping the arm, bandaging it so it would heal properly. However there were still many levels Tammy had to face. Once over the hurdle of the initial amputation, she had to fight the infection she already had, plus any that would come, compiled with radiation poisoning. Tanner wouldn’t say it, but her chances were slim. I t was a firm believer in Tammy. I knew she could beat any odds. Tanner’s other reluctant patient became Burke. He tried to hide the fact that he hurt his arm when he performed the deed, but the swelling and pain on his face grew hard to hide. Tanner called it a stress fracture. Burke called Tanner ridiculous. However they both agreed on a splint.

It had moved well into evening, and Tanner was still playing doctor. The typical nighttime silence had hit the shelter, and out of boredom, I found myself reviewing the ration log.

Seated on the floor, I looked up when Davy walked in. He was a sight for sore eyes. “Hey,” I whispered. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“Nah.” He shook his head. “Simon finally fell asleep.”

“Was it because of today?” I asked.

“You can say that.”

I patted a spot on the floor next to me. “Sit with me.”

Davy did. He plopped down by my side. “It was hard to explain to him. I tried. He kept holding his ears. Good thing the screaming didn’t last too long.”

“What about Matty?” I asked. “How did she handle it?”

“Annoyed.”

“Excuse me?”

“Annoyed. She was trying to draw. And then she said something that made me laugh. It sounded like she was making a joke.”

“What was it?”

“Oh,” Davy chuckled. “She asked how many adults it took to pull off one arm.”

I stared at Davy in confusion. “I’m lost. How is that funny?”

“It’s not that it’s funny. It’s the way she said it.” Davy explained. “Like an old joke. You know, how many blondes does it take to screw in a light bulb? How many adults does it take to remove one arm?”

Rod surprised us with an answer as he walked in the room. “One.” He said nonchalantly, carrying Molly, the blow up doll. “One very big, emotional German-Italian man.” He set Molly on the couch. “There. Better. She’s wearing her nightgown, now.” Rod straightened the pink flannel she wore. “I even put ponytails in her hair. Simon likes that. Is he in bed?”

Davy answered, “Yeah. He fell asleep. I’ll take her in for him when I go to bed.”

“Good.” Rod sat down on the couch next to Molly. “You know how he likes to see her when he wakes up. It’s his security blanket of sorts.”

“Speaking of bed,” I said, “I thought you were tired.”

“I am.” Rod sighed. “But I can’t sleep. Tammy is moaning from the stairwell. Burke is arguing with Tanner. Craig, Nicky, and Dan are already asleep in that room, and you know the rules. Last one in gets the floor or sleeps out here on the couch.”

“Usually you take the floor.” I stated.

“Not tonight.”
 
He breathed out heavily. “Tonight I am depressed. The arm thing …” He shuddered. “Got to me. I’m missing Denny terribly. I want a cup of tea. I can’t have a cup of tea. And Lord knows I need a Valium.”

Tanner made his rebuttal when he made his entrance. “You don’t need a valium.”

“I do. I’m a wreck.” Rod lifted his hand. “And I’ll have you know mister, they are prescription.”

Tanner with exhaling exhaustion sat down by the fireplace. “I saw that bag of prescription medication. I can’t believe a doctor gave you all that.”

“Doctors. Plural. I went to four,” Rod said snide. “Each gave me something different. Neither knew of the other.”

Tanner shook his head. “How did your insurance company not catch that?”

“Please.” Rod scoffed. “My plan covered the expensive pills; I paid cash for the rest. But they are prescriptions I need. You, Burke, Jo are withholding my medication. It’s not fair.”

“I understand that,” Tanner said. “However, understand they can be a useful substitute for other pills, that’s one reason we’re holding them from you.”

“Not to mention you’re a borderline addict.” I murmured. “That’s the other reason. He doesn’t need them, Tanner, trust me.”

“I do, too.” Rod defended. “Especially today. I’m oddly depressed over Denny.”

Tanner looked with question to me. “Who’s Denny?”

I answer, “He’s Rod’s partner. Rod really doesn’t talk too much about him anymore.”

“I don’t.” Rod nodded sadly. “And it isn’t because I don’t think about him. I do. I miss him. But haven’t you noticed, Jo? None of us talk about those who died. Especially the ones we weren’t around. I don’t speak of Denny or my mother. Craig, doesn’t mention his father. You …” Rod looked round then dropped his voice to a whisper, “You don’t mention Simon’s parents. If we didn’t see them die, we don’t talk about them.”

Rod was right. I took a few seconds to think about it. Trying to come up with examples to retort what he had said, I realized I couldn’t. He … was right. I wisped out a saddened, ‘oh,’ in the revelation of his words, and then muttered my thoughts out loud, “I wonder why.”

“To make it not real.” Rod answered.

“Or …” Davy added. “Give us something to hope for.”

With the lighting of a cigarette, Tanner turned to face the fire. “The whole grieving thing is gone.” He blew the smoke into the flames, allowing it to flow up and outward with the smoke from our fire. “It doesn’t feel there. You know what I mean?” He looked away from the fire to us. “We lose someone, we cry. Then we have to face and fight other things.”