Wake the Dawn (10 page)

She returned to her office and fired up her computer. She watched the screen change as the monster’s innards did mysterious things, and planned how to attack the mass of reports and paperwork generated by the hideous storm.

Chapter Ten

T
his power outage business was getting old fast. No TV, not that there was any football on Thursday. No computer unless absolutely needed. No laundry. No dishwasher. No anything else that sucked amps out of the generator unnecessarily. Ben sighed and shuffled the deck yet again, laid out still another game of solitaire across the kitchen table.

Bo walked over to the back door and barked.

“Hey, shut up!” Ben whispered hoarsely. “Beth’s asleep!” Either Bo needed a rest stop or someone was coming. He hopped up and opened the door. Both, apparently. Bo hastened outside, and Esther stood on the back stoop.

“Come in! Come in.” He stepped aside and swung the door wide.

She wore the white jeans and colored shirt that she always wore under her I-am-a-doctor white jacket. With her hair pulled back into a French roll—Ben seemed to remember that was the name of that do—and her face relaxed, she was quite a pretty woman. She stepped inside.

Ben waved toward the table. “Coffee?”

“Thanks. I have no power at the house yet, so no coffee.” She sat down.

“Then it sounds like no breakfast, either. What would you like? We have most everything.” He waved a hand. “Propane stove.”

“Really? What I like and what I usually eat are two different things. Usually I just grab a doughnut and run, but what I like is bacon and eggs. Never have time for it.”

“Make time this morning. My treat. I assume you’re on your way to work.” Ben pulled down the cast-iron frying pan and got out the egg carton and bacon. She sat silent. He paused and looked at her. “Is that okay?”

She took a breath. “Yes. Yes, very okay. You surprised me, is all. I wasn’t expecting…I was just going to stop by a minute…Yes. I really should be saying,
Oh please don’t go to all that bother
, but it sounds so good. Thank you. I didn’t even get the doughnut this morning.”

“So what you’re doing here is checking up on me and possibly administering a Breathalyzer test.”

She turned pink. She actually blushed. “I didn’t—”

He interrupted. “We’re friends and colleagues. Let’s be honest. Honestly, I’m happy to make breakfast for both of us, since I haven’t eaten yet, and I assure you that so far, I’ve stayed off the sauce.” He poured her a mug of coffee and set the creamer out beside the sugar bowl. “Real half-and-half.”

“‘So far.’ Good answer. If you said
Absolutely not
, I’d be concerned. Are Ansel and Beth here?”

“Beth is asleep. She takes the night shift so she can feed Nathan. They finally agreed on the name Nathan. Bacon smells so good as it fries.” He forked the bacon onto a paper towel and asked, “How do you want your eggs?”

“Over easy. Or scrambled. Whichever is easiest.”

“I’ll just scramble a bunch, for when Beth gets up.”

She grew wide-eyed as he broke eggs into a bowl. “You can afford to use so many eggs?”

“Ansel is down the street at their house with the wheelbarrow, bringing over all their freezer and fridge stuff, pantry stock, baby stuff—this is his third run so far. As regards supplies, we’re in tall clover.” He dug his whisk out of the drawer.

“I am constantly amazed by—” She pursed her lips a moment in thought. “I guess, by the resiliency in this community. You people all act like this disaster is no big deal.”

Now it was his turn to think. He drained off most of the bacon grease. “You say ‘you people.’ You’ve been here, what, six years? Why are we still ‘you people’ and not
us
?” He glanced at her.

She was sitting openmouthed.

Apparently she needed some time, so he gave her the space while he dug out the milk and sniffed it. Still good. He seasoned the eggs and started whisking.

“I never thought of that. I do feel like an outsider. Maybe because the city fathers won’t listen to anything I say or try to do. Maybe because all the people I meet I only meet professionally, as a doctor to a patient. Besides, I’m not much of a schmoozer. Bit of introversion, you might say.”

“Just a bit. But you grew up around here.”

“About four hours away. We were closer to Bemidji, so if we drove somewhere, it was there. Not over this way, to Pineville. When I took this job I knew about where Pineville was, but I’d never been here.” She watched him put the bacon in a warm oven. “However, when I was in high school my father rooted for Pineville, not my school.”

“What was your school? Riverview?”

“Jefferson. My school had a lousy football record and Pineville was top of the pile. My father dwells heavily on success that you can measure.”

He poured the eggs in the frying pan. “I think I hear you. A lot of our rooters don’t measure Pineville by academic excellence. Can’t see that on a scoreboard. Just football.”

“Exactly. Mom’s the same way. I’m not a resident at Mayo, so I haven’t succeeded.”

“I feel sorry for her.”

“Sorry!” Silence. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“You’re successful. I watched you in action. But it doesn’t show on a scoreboard.”

“Or in the local paper in that column that crows about citizens who made good.” She sipped her coffee.

Snuffling from the other room. He raised a finger. “Her Highness. At a count of five, you’ll hear a cry. Three, four, five.”

Dawn wailed. It was not her strident wail, just an I-woke-up-and-I’m-alone cry.

Esther stood up, grinning. “I’ll take over the eggs.”

“Thank you.” He walked out into the formal dining room. It was a nursery now, one of two. He and Ansel had brought over their crib for Nathan, who slept upstairs, and their folding travel crib for Dawn down here. Resilient? Yeah. He scooped up Dawn and laid her down on the sideboard, which now served as a diapering table. She wasn’t poopy, but she sure was soaked. That taken care of, he draped her on a shoulder and took her to the kitchen.

Esther broke into the brightest smile. “Oh, Ben! She is looking so good! Look at those plump, rosy little cheeks!”

They swapped chores, he back to his eggs, she to dandling the tiny child who a few days ago teetered on the rim of death.

The door flew open and Bo bounded inside. Ansel followed closely. “Esther! Good to see you! Ben, I brought some stuff over from the pantry. Esther, we’re stocking Ben’s pantry. Note I didn’t say
restocking
.”

She laughed. “But when she went there, the cupboard was bare, and so the poor dog had none.”

“Oh, the dog had plenty. It’s people food he was short on.”

Ansel shoved bread into the toaster as Ben served the bacon and eggs. He sort of kept up with the light, idle chatter, but he was aching to ask her the big question: What about Dawn?

After they finished eating around seven forty-five Esther called the clinic. No appointments. No emergencies. Good. She could come in late.

Ansel hurried off to work. Dawn insisted on immediate attention, so Ben prepared her bottle.

Esther watched him a moment. “I’ll clean up the dishes.”

“Want to do something even more helpful?”

“Sure.”

“Take Bo out for a walk. Maybe down by the pond or on that bike trail; half an hour or so. As soon as Beth gets up I’m going to the office to catch up on desk work, and Bo won’t get any exercise.”

“Neither will you.”

“With me, exercise is optional. With Bo, well, you better not neglect his.”

She giggled, a happy, relaxed giggle. It was the first he’d ever heard from her and it pleased him immensely. When she took the leash down from its hook by the door, Bo figured things out immediately. Eager wagging, eager jumping around. He went off with her without a backward glance.

Ben stuffed the bottle into Dawn’s mouth and walked out to the front window to watch them go. Dawn slurped contentedly. Bo settled to the trail with élan. Esther was moving along with a spring to her step.

And that pleased him most of all.

Chapter Eleven

Y
ou gotta be kidding!”

Chief Harden shook his head. “How often have you seen me kid about assignments?”

“Never. But this is ridiculous! I’m not a medic.” Ben knew why he’d not gone on for more emergency training when he was offered the chance. He just didn’t feel he could do as good a job there as on patrol. Bringing in bad guys made his day. So here he stood in front of the chief’s desk wishing he were somewhere else. Anywhere else. At least some sleep and some desk work had made him feel almost back to normal. Now he wanted to get completely back to normal.

Thoughts of tiny Dawn tickled his mind. She’d smiled at him that morning when he’d given her a second bottle after Esther left. Well, sort of smiled. Beth said it was gas bubble pains. He knew better. And she’d kept one small fist tangled in Bo’s fur and waved the other at Ben.

Had they not been on patrol in that area, she would never have lasted a night.

“You did an exemplary job during the storm and we have another one about to hit. The other detail is searching damaged buildings for more victims.”

“Which is what Bo and I are trained for.”

“True. And where is Bo?” Chief dropped his chin to stare over his glasses.

“You said I could leave him home.”

“I know. If you’d been going out on patrol, he would have come in, too.”

“So aren’t we wasting his training?” Good point, but Ben knew perfectly well that good points did no good when arguing with Chief. Chief had made up his mind and Ben knew changing it was more like trying to open a bear trap rusted shut. Besides, he wasn’t sure how to get Bo away from his self-assigned duty as guardian of the baby. Ben grimaced and started to turn away but stopped. “Did you get any rest between these fronts?”

“Why?” The word barked out.

“Well, you look like you could use some sleep.”

“Don’t we all?”

Ben smirked. “Just doing my duty. You’re the one who assigned me to medic, so I’m being medical. To be honest, you look like death in a slop bucket. Maybe you should come to the clinic for a checkup.” He raised his hands in front of him, palms out, to fend off the burning scowl. “I know, just doing my duty. I’m going, I’m going.” He gave a sort of salute, one more narrow-eyed look, and shut the door behind him.

Jenny greeted him at the reception area. “You look better than I have seen you in a long time.”

“Thank you for your concern.” He let a hint of sarcasm creep in. No sense letting her feel like she was always right. Besides he didn’t owe her just one debt of gratitude but a whole dump-truck-load.

“How’s our baby?”

Funny how Dawn had become the darling of not only the station but the clinic and probably part of the town. “She smiled at me.”
Get a grip, James. No extra blinking allowed.
“When I fed her this morning.”

“Our miracle baby.”

One thought had awakened him early. What if Esther decided today was the day to put his baby into the social services system? No, that wasn’t possible. There was no way to get her to Grand Forks and the offices. “In more ways than you know.”

“Oh, I see a walkin’, talkin’ miracle right in front of me.”

“Jenny, knock it off.” He heard the hoarseness creep into his voice. If all the others were as close to the line as he, they were in bad shape. He glanced over his shoulder and leaned closer, dropping his voice. “Is he as bad off as he looks?”

“Chief? In a word, yes! But he won’t listen to me, you, or anyone else, so put on your prayer armor that he can get through this.” She shook her head. “Life with him was so much easier when his wife was still alive.”

Ben nodded. He used to have a wife, too. He used to have prayer armor. Was it all rusted beyond use? Wasn’t it enough that he’d quit drinking? Of course, how would she know that? Or any of them? Himself included. Esther had certainly put the fear of God into him if he wanted to keep that baby. The memory of that toothless smile, those crinkly dark eyes…no drinking allowed, no how, not anymore, no matter how much stress.

“I’m outta here before he comes out here and rips me into shreds. Thanks, Jenny.”

“For what?”

But he was out the door. He paused under the roof of the entryway and just watched for a minute as Mother Nature girded herself to throw yet another fit. The wind was already swaying what trees and portions of trees they had left, occasionally ripping off leaves, and while the rain was still fairly light, the cold of it and the wind drove right into his bones. The black monster off to the west would fill the sky from about two o’clock on; the real storm. And its arrival was not far off.

He parked near the rear entrance of the clinic and flipped the hood of his rain jacket over his head. His vehicle seemed empty without his furry black buddy. He entered the building to find quiet. He hung up his wet jacket and went in search of Esther.

“She’s in two with a patient.” Barbara did not seem particularly cheerful today.

“And good morning to you, too.” Ben smiled at the dark-haired woman. “So it has begun again?”

“We’ve had two patients in ten minutes. If she doesn’t need you yet, how about moving that box of distilled water for me? It needs to be in the storage room rather than the kitchen break room.”

“Of course. Anything else?”

“Start a pot of coffee.”

“Sure.”
For this I am here?
But he knew better than to say anything. He tapped on the door to two and stuck his head in. “Need me?”

“Not yet.” Esther sent him a questioning look, then turned back to her patient, an elderly man.

“Hey there, Mr. Rustvold. How you doing?”

The older man had been a math teacher when Ben was in high school, retired a few years ago. To Ben, he had seemed ancient when he was still teaching. And despite the fellow’s retirement, Ben could not bring himself to address Mr. Rustvold by his first name. He was
Mister
.

“Not too bad. Ran out of my prescription and they wouldn’t renew it without I check in here. So here I am.”

“Glad it’s nothing more than that. Say hi to your wife for me.” She’d been his history and US government teacher. The school lost some fine teachers when these two had retired. He shut the door and went on to the break room to perform his mundane, non-law-enforcement tasks.

One of their two ambulances wailed a few streets away. The other was still parked at the south end of the lot, mutely awaiting a call.

He stowed the distilled water in the closet and returned to the break room. His baby had spent hours here, surviving. He reached for the coffee filters. He should go ask for a report, but the need for a cup of coffee drove him to finish this task first. The other would come to him. He filled the coffeemaker well as he heard the door swoosh open. He headed for the ambulance entrance. “What do we have?”

“Cardiac.”

“Room three.” He looked down at the man on the gurney. “Mr. Aptos.” A spidery hand reached for him and Ben clasped the cold hand between his warm ones. He glanced at Dennis, who was pushing. Dennis shrugged. They all knew the old gentleman who had been Ben’s grandfather’s best friend. The two had played dominoes every day down at the Drop In Café and bingo every Thursday at the veterans’ hall. They had both walked in the parade on Veterans Day every year since he could remember. Dennis wheeled him into the examining room and they lifted him onto the table. He almost weighed less than the box of water. Ben wished they had a more comfortable bed for him.

He met Esther in the hall. “Mr. Aptos in three. Cardiac.”

“Is he stabilized?”

“Appears so.” He opened the door for her to enter.

“Hello, Mr. Aptos, not feeling too well right now, eh?” She automatically checked the monitor. Dennis had shifted to the clinic monitors. “No, please don’t try to sit up. Let me see what is going on here.” She patted his hand and put her stethoscope to his chest.

Dennis and Yvette stepped back and pulled their gurney out of the way. “We need to get back.”

“I know. Have they shut down traffic on the streets yet?”

“No, but there aren’t many cars out.”

She checked the saline drip. “What have you given him?”

“Besides oxygen, Activase.”

“Heparin?”

“Not yet. His heart rate seems to be settling down some. He wasn’t fibrillating—we put the machine on him, of course—but he was having a hard time breathing.”

“Was he unconscious?”

“Almost, mighty weak. Sitting in his chair in front of the dark TV.” Dennis kept his voice low.

“I think he’d slept there, too. Blankets on the floor,” Yvette added.

The old man shrugged. “No power. Had some cheese, slice of bread.” His words were strung out, barely hanging together.

“Mr. Aptos, when did you eat last? Today, yesterday?”

“I-I’m not sure.”

“Can you chew and swallow?”

“Can’t find my teeth.”

“I see.” Esther looked to Dennis. “Was there power to his house?”

“No lights on, but I didn’t check switches.”

“Mr. Aptos, I’m going to give you some nutrition via the IV but I want you to eat something now, something soft you can masticate with your tongue. Can you sit up if we crank the bed up?”

“I-I think so.”

“How about heating him some soup in the microwave?”

Ben nodded and patted the man’s shoulder. “We’ll get you ready to play dominoes again real soon.”

“Thank you, son.”

Soup. Ben fumbled around in the little cabinet where the staff kept emergency rations for when they were too busy to break away and eat. Chicken noodle. No, chunks. Cream of celery. Ben hated celery and wouldn’t do that to anyone else. Cream of potato. That would do. He dumped it into a bowl and poked numbers on the microwave. Anything else? He looked in the refrigerator. Cheese. American cheese squares in wrappers. Could you handle that stuff without teeth? Sure.

He dug a spoon out of the junk drawer, rinsed it off to make sure, and headed back to three with his tray of delectable delights.

Esther met him on the way. “I think he’s mostly dehydrated and weak from not eating and drinking. We can’t keep him here, and he can’t be left alone. What do we do?”

“According to Dennis, when in need call his mother. Is the Lutheran church taking in refugees again?” Ben felt like he’d been out of things for a week rather than a couple of days. “Or maybe someone in town will take the old man in for a few days.”

“I’ll ask Dennis.” She headed to room one to check on her patients there.

Mr. Rustvold was leaving two as Ben entered three. “Mr. Aptos?” Ben set the tray on the counter and watched for a response.

The faded blue eyes struggled open, and the old man turned his head to see who was talking. “Ah, Ben. You take after your father, you know.”

“Really? I brought soup, do you need help eating?” While he was talking, he cranked the head of the bed up. “That better?” But when he saw how the old hand shook, he dragged over a chair. “How about if I help you?”

“Do you by any chance have any coffee?”

“We do. Let’s get through the soup and the cheese I brought, then I’ll get you coffee.” He waited for a nod. Had he ever fed someone like this before? Surely Barbara or someone could do better than he. He should be out chasing bad guys, not force-feeding an old man. The first spoonful dribbled down the man’s chin. Ben mopped him with a tissue and tried again. “Sorry, my fault.” After a few spoonfuls they got the rhythm and the soup disappeared. Ben unwrapped the square of cheese and handed it to his patient. “Can you manage that?”

Mr. Aptos nodded and with a shaky hand took a bite. “Coffee?”

“Coming right up.” He left the room, trying to figure out how he could bring coffee that wouldn’t spill. Barbara might know.

“Check the cupboard above the sink,” Barbara said.

“Good, thanks.”

At the same moment they heard the ambulance siren.

“Here we go again.” Barbara answered the phone and waved him off with the other hand.

Sure enough, in the cupboard he found those travel mugs with accordion-pleated straws sticking out of the lid. Perfect. Ben pulled the first one his fingers reached, a turquoise job with a Hasty-Stop logo, poured the coffee, and added the sugar that for some odd reason he remembered from days with his father and his friend.

He carried it in to the old man. “I hope you still take sugar.”

“I do. How did you ever remember that?” He took the cup with steadier hands.

“Is there anyone we might call who could stay with you for a few days?”

Mr. Aptos shook his head. “Just Harry. But his house was damaged, and they’re going to live with his daughter. They came and told me they were leaving.”

“Okay, we’ll find someone.”

“I don’t want to be a bother, you know.”

“I understand, but you can’t live alone until we get your strength pumped back up. Enjoy your coffee.”

He heard Esther say, “Okay, room two.” So he headed for two. But wait. Someone was shouting out in the waiting room. He paused, sighed heavily. “Be right back.”