Dust (15 page)

“Do you ... do you remember me, Dr. Niles?” I asked.

“Of course.” He nodded. “Jo.”

“Dr. Niles, do you have a few seconds, I know it is ... ”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation or allowing me to finish. “But call me Tanner.”

“Tanner.” I gave him a peaceful smile. “You seem different today.”

“Yes, well, sometimes things happen that make you think.” He raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, no.” I closed my eyes.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I am so, so, sorry.” I finally opened my eyes and looked at him. “I am so ... ”

“Jo, why are you apologizing?”

I took a deep breath. “Yesterday, you went out of your way to correct a wrong. Today, I am here to do the same.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Tanner, I’m sorry. I let you to leave last night without explaining how my husband died. See, there was some trouble, and he tried to stop it. The infection didn’t take his life, Sam was killed. I know you’re probably thinking, ‘OK’, and you probably didn’t give it a second thought. But I couldn’t with a clear conscience ... ”

“I did.”

“Excuse me?”

“I did think about it. It was on my mind all night,” he said.

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t apologize. Thank you. Thank you for clearing that up.”

“You’re welcome.”

Tanner nodded. “Well, I’d better ... ”

“Yes. Work. I’m sorry I kept you.” I started to leave, but stopped. “Tanner? If you ever get a break, and want an escape from this place ... you know where I am. Find me. You’re welcome there. I mean it.”

“I’d like that.” Tanner smiled then shifted his eyes down to the clipboard. “Shit. I’m in the wrong row.” He backed up. “I’ll see ... I’ll see you soon, Jo.”

About all I had time to do was lift my hand in a wave. Tanner had made his way from the row. I felt better about it all. About walking to the station, finding Tanner, clearing the air. With a feeling of resolution, I took a step back, turned to leave and nearly shrieked in surprise when a hand slammed down and grabbed my wrist.

It wasn’t a soldier that snatched hold of me; it was a patient on a cot. Slowing my rapid heartbeat, I glanced to the fingers with the chipped mauve nail polish. They gripped tight to my skin with amazing strength, nearly cutting off all circulation. “Do you need ... ” I started to ask but then I noticed. The hand of the woman was the only portion of her arm that wasn’t burnt. As my eyes scanned her arm, the burns worsened, going from purple and bleeding, to black. The sight of the woman horrified and sickened me. My heart ached. There was a blanket; it came to only her waist. Her entire torso was exposed, and if it weren’t for the nail polish, I wouldn’t have known she was a woman. Her chest was severely burned, a portion of her lower ribcage protruded, and it appeared as if her breasts had begun to char off. I saw her other arm, it was fine. Not a scratch on it. Part of her neck was unscathed as well. “You poor thing, do you ... ”

When I saw her face, I froze. A lump big enough to choke me formed in my throat.

Muffled, yet interpretable she peeped out in pain, “Jo ... help me.”

“Oh, my God.” Though one entire half of her face was burnt beyond recognition, the other half allowed me to discover her identity. “Hebba.”
 

16. Decisions
 

I sobbed. Plain and simply, no other way to put it, I sobbed. Halfway home, I had to stop. Weakened, my body did not want to move, I couldn’t think, everything swarmed, I sat down, buried my face in my hands, and I broke. I stayed there too, in Rod’s comforting silence, until I was able to continue on.

What occurred in the rescue station was more of a shock than I was able to bear. I hid it well, and stayed strong. For Hebba’s sake I couldn’t let her see how much the sight of her was killing me. I held her hand, huddled close, told her everything would be all right, and that I would go get Burke, immediately I would get him.

I was able to catch Tanner’s attention, telling him I had found my friend, or rather my friend found me. He took the time to help move Hebba’s cot off to the side, and then Tanner did the best he could and gave her something for the pain.

He said, “Give it a few minutes, Jo, it should work. Hopefully. It’s all we have.”

Hebba clutched tightly to my hand, squeezing with every wave of pain she experienced, crying my name out, crying for help that I could not give. I stayed there and assured her that I would be back with Burke.

I couldn’t wait to leave the tent. Not because I wanted to leave Hebba, but because it was far too much to handle. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would feel that way. Pity, sorrow, heartache, all for a woman whom two weeks earlier rubbed everyone the wrong way. But nothing ... nothing Hebba ever did warranted the torture she was going through. It was wrong and unfair. Had she been that way for two weeks? How in the world Hebba survived was inconceivable. Perhaps she held on, fought tooth and nail with the fire and strength she had, just to stay alive until she was found. The pain and agony she endured made my pain and agony seem miniscule. The entire situation brought to light a selfishness I didn’t even know I had. The simple fact that I stood not one foot from her and didn’t know she was there, said it all. I didn’t see her. In fact, I didn’t see anyone in that tent or around me. Maybe because the people in that tent, and in the camp, weren’t part of my world. I saw them as two different entities. But all of that changed in an instant. It hit me like a sledgehammer, and it was too much for me to take. The second Hebba fell asleep, I fled from the tent. I ran, not only until Rod caught up to me, but until it all caught up to me.

Huddled on the ground, my floodgates opened. My body shook, and the tears flowed from me. I cried, not just for Hebba, but for everything. For Sam, my family, those I knew that were lost, and for those I didn’t know. There weren’t enough tears to wash away all the pain, and all the wrong. There would never be enough tears.

***

‘An old man from down the street, stopped by for a cup of water.’ Those were the words Davy greeted me with when I returned to the shelter. Then I guess he looked at me and saw my face.

“Mom? You OK?”

To say I was dazed would be an understatement. “Yes, where’s Burke?”

“Outside with Craig,” Davy answered. “Anyhow, the old man stopped for water, and wanted to trade for a can of soup. Dan said not to, but I gave him water. Was that OK?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Burke’s outside?” I pointed backwards with my thumb, then turned to go up the steps.

“Mom? Did you hear me?”

Irritated, I spun around. “Davy! Right now I have more important things to worry about than some old ... ” I stopped speaking when I heard my own words. “Davy, was he alone?”

“When he came here?” Davy asked then nodded. “Yes.”

“Why don’t you take Dan and see if you can find him. See if he’s OK, if he needs anything, and if he wants to join us.”

Dan immediately jumped from behind his curtain. “I object to that. First, we don’t need any strangers. Second, I don’t want to go out there, tell Davy to take Rod.”

I wasn’t in the mood to argue, however I did sound irritated when I spoke. “Rod just came back, and this is my home, Dan. I can invite whomever I want. OK? Davy, take Rod instead.”

Rod raised his hand, “May I take a valium first?”

“No. No drugs.” I instructed, then again, tried to go up the steps.

Nicky and my daughter had unofficially created the ‘quiet club’, so when either one of them talked, it drew attention. From behind a partition, Nicky walked out and spoke, “Can I go with him, Jo?” she asked. “I need to do something positive. That would be positive.”

My eyes shifted from Rod to her. “Yes, but I still would like Rod to go. Safety in numbers.”

I received Nicky’s agreement, and seized the opportunity to leave. It was a task I didn’t look forward to. No matter how many ways I rehearsed it in my mind, there was no delicate way to tell Burke about Hebba.

No sooner did I walk around to the back of my house and I saw Burke in Mark’s yard. My insides shook, and I was scared to death. He was wrestling with Mark’s small tool shed. He’d bang against the shed with his body, pull at it, and bang it again. Arms folded tight to me, I walked over. “Burke.”

Burke slammed into the shed.

“Burke, I need to speak to you.” I inched closer.

“I’m kind of ... ” He grunted as he hit into shed again. “Busy.”

“I see that, but this ... ”

“I want to get this loosened, Craig’s almost done digging.”

Instantly, I looked. My focus had been so much on Burke; I failed to see Craig digging in my backyard. I knew what he was unearthing. At the beginning of the previous summer, we had dug a coffin size hole in the backyard. In that hole we had placed large water bottles. We had purchased one bottle a week until we filled that hole. We covered it with a sheet of plywood, and buried it.

“Why?” I asked. “Is Craig digging up our water? We don’t need it yet, do we?”

“No.” Burke struggled his words, working on the tool shed. “We’re putting the bottles in the basement, because we need the hole.”

“For?”

“The outhouse.” He stayed preoccupied with his mission. “If we have an outhouse, we can use all the undrinkable water for washing. So we’re ... ” Burke sighed out when the shed shifted an entire foot. “Ah, there.” He brushed off his hands. “We’re taking this bad boy putting it over the hole and making it a ... ” he finally looked at me. “What’s wrong? You were crying. Did something happen?”

“Yes.” I felt my insides tremble, and my eyes water. I reached down and grabbed his hand, turning it palms up. Curiosity screamed through his eyes, until I laid in his hand a gold wedding band. When I knew that he recognized it, I laid my hand over his and squeezed. “I know where Hebba is.”

***

There is a suspension of disbelief when it comes to a painful truth. No matter how much a person is forewarned, a protective barrier prevents them from fully comprehending the ‘bad’ until they are faced with it. I knew in my heart and in my mind, that it didn’t matter what I told Burke, when he saw the extent of Hebba’s condition, it would hit him like a tidal wave, bolt him over, and leave him disoriented.

My strong friend went through various channels of emotions and reactions when I told him. He was shocked, then didn’t believe. He raged from guilt over not finding her to anger that she was lumped into a massive conglomerate of nameless, faceless people.

After informing the others that we wouldn’t be long, Burke and I headed off. We were able to jumpstart a pickup truck that wasn’t completely encased or covered with rubble. Not that we needed to drive there, we needed the truck. Our sole purpose in going to the rescue station wasn’t just to see Hebba, it was to get Hebba and bring her back.

I know how Burke felt. I didn’t need to guess or to try to imagine. I was there not twenty-four hours earlier with Sam. Internally, I was certain what Burke would feel, but outwardly I was unsure. What would his initial reaction be?

Stepping into the tent brought a whole new vision of the war to Burke. He, like me, was so focused on our group we didn’t think about anyone else. But unlike me, Burke saw the victims the split second he walked inside. The dark color of his eyes seemed to absorb all the white, as Burke kept his eyes squinted. His views shifted—slow but edgy—from one cot to the next. I watched as his thick neck grew red and his jaw muscles tensed up.

I grabbed his arm and whispered, “This way.”

Burke turned to look at me. His eyes, the beads of sweat that formed on his forehead, his expression, they all screamed at me as if to say, ‘This can’t be real.’