Wake the Dawn (9 page)

“They got the one across the river operational sometime during the night. The one in town took a hit, but repairs should move ahead now that the storm is leaving. We can only pray that the storm right behind the first bypasses us.”

“There’s another one on the way? Wasn’t this one enough?”

Jenny’s business-like voice. “Border patrol.”

“Jenny, Ben here.”

“Oh, good. We were about to send someone to your house to check on you. You all right?”

“I am. Ansel and Beth are here with me, since their house isn’t habitable.” From the sound of the breath she exhaled, he figured she was afraid he was passed out, not just sleeping. And passed out for a different reason than exhaustion. “Jenny, listen. I am okay.” He spoke slowly and with all the sincerity he could muster.

“Ah, good. That’s real good. Chief said to tell you that for right now, you needn’t come in. That baby is with you, right?”

“Yes, Esther gave her okay when Beth and Ansel needed a place to stay, too. Is there anything more I need to know right now?” Even he could detect the difference in his voice. He was feeling pushed again. Jenny cared, that’s all; he mustn’t let it get to him.

It wasn’t her fault she was the first to hear the news. Well, often the second. Whoever was manning 911 heard the worst first, then border patrol, if at all.

“You’re sure this is all right?” He lifted the cell away from his ear to look at the face. Two bars. “My phone should be recharged fairly soon.”

Jenny was asking, “You have enough fuel for your generator?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, don’t get huffy. You have no idea how many calls we’ve had for diesel. They’re about out at the Quick Stop. So, you better refill yours, just in case.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Sorry.”

Don’t be a jerk, James. You’ve been one for far too long.
“Are there still travel restrictions on the roads?”

“Yes, we’re asking people to not drive unless absolutely necessary. The usual service trucks, emergency vehicles, and National Guard are excluded, of course.”

“How is Esther doing?”

Jenny was silent a moment. “Let’s just say…ah…”

“I take it the military are still over at the clinic?”

“Ah, yes, that would be affirmative.”

“Is her house still standing and habitable?” He couldn’t believe he was asking these questions, and from the sound of Jenny’s voice, she was surprised, too.

“I—I think so.”

“She’s not sleeping at the clinic?”

“Not that I know of.”

And if she didn’t know, no one did, so he rather doubted. The grapevine in this small burg could relay information faster than the WiFi, although all those downed phones might slow it up a little.

“Thanks, Jenny.”

Again, she sounded as though she was shocked and trying to conceal it. Had he really been as bad as all that? Or was she overreacting? She wasn’t much of a drama queen, so he doubted she was overreacting.

Since he’d not stopped at the cleaner’s, his uniforms were in the SUV. Better bring them in and hang them. They were probably pretty dank and a little smelly. On his way out the door, he caught a message on the scanner. The bridge was now officially closed.

Chapter Nine

G
ood thing her mother had trained her well in manners.

Esther managed to nod at Dr. Livingston’s instructions, although she flunked smiling. At least she didn’t think she was shooting daggers at him and his high-handedness, even though she most assuredly thought about it.
He is only doing his job
, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time.
And he is good at his job. Your job is to be thankful.

The reminder to herself drummed deeper into her subconscious. Thankfulness was not normal when orders and questions were dipping and flying faster than bats in a cloud of mosquitoes. Her response with a “Yes, sir,” caught her by surprise and earned her a narrow-eyed look.

Dr. Livingston stared at her a moment, then rolled his lips to keep from smiling, if the slight crease in his cheeks could be called a smile. “You are not one of my staff, are you?”

“Rhetorical question. But I do appreciate all that you have brought to us and all that you and your staff are doing.”

“Thank you, Doctor. That was well said.” He leaned his haunches against a counter. “Do you have any questions?”

“I understand you’re pulling out before the next front hits.”

He nodded. “Affirmative. The National Guard will still be on site but not medical help. I wish we had some roads open, but closing the bridge cuts off your closest route to Grand Forks, am I right?”

“Yes.”

“But there is another?”

“Of sorts, an unmarked road up this side of the river. But at least all our supplies are restocked—and, thanks to you, some things we didn’t have before.”

“And you and your people got some rest?” With arms loosely crossed over his chest, he rubbed his chin with one finger.

“Yes, thank you.”

He dug a card out of his chest pocket and handed it to her. “A direct line to me. If you get an emergency over your head, call me and perhaps we can talk you through it.”

Esther mentally heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I didn’t see any way of helping our bleeder, short of going in, and we just weren’t set up for that.”

“I know. Our field hospitals are far better equipped than you are. I hear you’ve been lobbying for a regional hospital to go here.”

She nodded. “Fat lot of good it has done.”

“You’ve taken on the county, too?”

She shook her head. “But that’s the next step. Hopefully this storm will change their minds.” Like closing the barn door after the horse had hightailed it but better late than never. She must still be tired; she was even thinking in clichés.

“Why have you not gone back and gotten your MD?”

She hoped the flinch didn’t show. “Personal things.”

“How long have you suffered from PTSD and what are you doing about it?” When she started to say something, he held up a hand traffic-cop-style. “Don’t try to BS me, I’ve been at this a long time and heard it all.”

Esther pulled herself up short and reminded her shoulders to disengage from her earlobes. “I hoped I was dealing with it well enough.”

“On meds?”

“And counseling. Have been for about three years.”

“And?”

Esther heaved a sigh. “And this was hard to deal with.”
Talk about understatement!

“‘This’ meaning the storm and all the chaos?”

She nodded. “The pressures of med school sent me into full-blown attacks and so I dropped out—before they could kick me out.”

“You are sure they would have kicked you out?”

“I guess.”

“Or was it the paranoia of the disorder?”

“I—ah…” She stared down at her crossed arms and tongued her bottom lip. When she looked back up at him, she could feel her eyelashes near to fluttering, her throat drying, and one swallow wasn’t sufficient. “I don’t know.” The words wrenched themselves from a dark place deep inside and flung themselves from her mouth. “I was afraid I might misdiagnose or mistreat a patient. I couldn’t bear it if someone died or grew worse because I couldn’t control what was going on in my head.”
Or my whole body for that matter
—the tremors used to rack her entire body.

“But the diagnosis by someone other than yourself is solid and documented?”

She shook her head. “All of that would show up on my medical records. No bona fide med school would let me back in.”

“I wouldn’t give up on that if I were you. So you basically do everything any doctor would do in a clinic on the edge of nowhere. And it looks like without supervision?”

“We are an affiliate of the regional hospital in Grand Forks. They send various specialists up on a rotating schedule and I report to Dr. Ho, head of the satellite clinics.”

“I see.”

“Five minutes, Major.” The call came from the hallway.

“I’m going to think on this and get back to you. There might be some other avenues.”

“Thank you, sir.” The rush of gratitude wobbled her knees.
Don’t count on anything
, that insidious inner voice warned her.
After all, he doesn’t know the whole story.
She chose as usual to ignore the voice. “And thank you for all your assistance here. Please thank your staff, too.” She held out her right hand and shook his.

Barbara stuck her head in the door. “Sorry to interrupt, Esther, but the ambulance is on the way back in. They found a spinal injury in a nearly crushed house. ETA three minutes.”

“Thanks, Barbara.”

He paused. “Let us take this one with us.”

“Thank you! We’ll tell them to go to the choppers.” She turned and left the room, realizing he was right behind her. That phrase that was getting hackneyed but was oh so powerful echoed in her mind.
I’ve got your back.
This man indeed had her back.
Does he see the difference he makes in people’s lives? And not just on the operating table.

She told Barbara, and Barbara told the aid van crew. Chain of command. Suddenly wearied, she headed for her office. No doubt the walk-in closets in Dr. Livingston’s home were bigger than her office. Who knew: Maybe unlike her office they even had windows. And they probably didn’t smell a little musty the way her office did. Rain must have gotten in somewhere, somehow, and a moldy, soggy spot was lurking behind a file cabinet or something.

How she was ever going to get all the paperwork caught up was beyond her. Where to start? No clue. How many did they treat? No record. What about the drug cabinet she’d opened and left open, making controlled substances, even the Schedule 1A’s, available to the whole world? How to inventory what had been used or abused or stolen or borrowed or…How much had they spent on that Culpepper kid? He’d get at least minimum wage. Who would end up paying for the smashed soda and junk machines? Right now, right this moment, all she needed was a few quiet minutes to process the conversation with Dr. Livingston and gear up for the next wave. So far, the clinic was empty, her helpers were rested, and all the new supplies were put away. The weather report sounded like they’d made it through the worst.

What if I could go back to med school and finish the program?

She’d not allowed herself to even consider that for the last few years. Had she been Catholic, she might have referred to her job here as her penance. One way to right an unrightable wrong?

She sank down in her office chair and flipped open her phone. “Hi, Mom.”

“Are you all right? We’ve heard terrible things about your town! It’s all over the television. National television, too, not just the local news. We lost power for several hours, but we finally have the phone on again and power, too.”

Esther smiled and shook her head. “I tried to call.” She could hear pans rattling and could just picture her mother, receiver glued between ear and shoulder as she started the next meal in her shiny kitchen. Her mom, Madge Landauer Hanson of the Connecticut Landauers, never did one thing at a time when she could do three. “And yes, right now we are all right. The military sent help and they’ve restocked our supplies. The public safety people are saying that half the town has some kind of damage.”

“That bad! Oh, my. Of course you never know with the TV, are they being realistic or sensationalist? Remember last year when that mini tornado dropped a tree on a trailer home in Mankato? One house trailer, but you’d have thought the whole south half of the state was ripped apart, to hear them talk.”

“Well, this storm really pounded us.” She closed her eyes for a moment as pictures flashed through her head of the folks they’d cared for here in the clinic. “I hope we’ve seen the final death toll. We have two little kids whose mother died and their father is a truck driver trying to get home.” She didn’t mention Denise. That one hurt too bad yet.

“We heard six for the county. They can’t exaggerate the number of deaths, can they?”

“No, but they can underestimate. At least four here in town. The bridge is closed.” She paused to listen as a chopper revved up and lifted off. It came clattering over the building, still very low, and its backwash rattled the loose shingles or whatever that was making noise on the roof. On the one hand, she hated to see them go, but on the other it was nice to be back in charge. She heard Chief’s booming voice; he’d be here in a second. “I got company coming—border patrol chief. Do you need anything, Mom?”

“No, no, we’re fine. We have the power back now. It looks like the brunt of the storm hit you instead of us. Call me when you can. Your father is worried about you.”

“I will.” She snapped it closed. And while her mother always said she was praying rather than worrying, Esther had long ago realized that while her father never said much, he lost sleep worrying over her. “In here, Chief.”

He tapped on the door and entered, shaking his head. “Seems to me you could have more office space than this hole in the wall.”

“Well, when we build our new facility, I’ll make sure to put a real office on the blueprints. Shucks, maybe two. Get a good one for Barbara.”

“You can bet they’ll bring in a real doctor if we get a real hospital here. You thought about going back and finishing med school?”

“What’s with everyone today and me finishing med school?” Esther didn’t bother to keep the frown from her face.

“Oh?” His eyebrows rose. “Who else?”

“Dr. Livingston.”

“Oh.”

Esther studied him. She thought she could read him, well, most of the time. She turned her head slightly to the side and dropped her chin. “You weren’t too impressed with the good doctor?”

“Typical know-it-all military officer.”

“And what did he do to set you off?”

“Took over. And don’t give me that look. I saw your reaction, he took your operation over, too.”

“Can you believe he apologized for being so high-handed?”

Chief fell back in his chair in mock horror. The two shared a bit of a laugh and then settled into business.

He cleared his throat. “You and Ben worked well together, the give-and-take. That doesn’t always happen with Ben these days. How about I station him back here?”

She shrugged as nonchalantly as she could. “Fine with me.”

“Don’t get too enthusiastic.” His voice dripped sarcasm.

“Sorry.” She seemed to be saying that a lot lately. She glanced down at her hand, pen clenched and doodling hearts and dollar signs on the pad she kept handy for phone conversations. Change the subject. “Is this new weather front as bad as the other, and an ETA, please?”

“ETA is tomorrow, early afternoon, and predictions are less wind, more rain. The Doppler shows it slowed down. Still could veer away. North up into the bogs would be good. You need more staff?”

“Barbara is here; she’s an RN, but I don’t know where we could drum anyone else up. And Susan can’t leave her mother right now.”

“What if we got someone else in to take care of her mother?”

“If you can.” Esther knew Barbara had called the other two part-timers who worked in the clinic, and their excuses were valid. Hard to leave a baby with spina bifida, or three young teens when Dad was already called out with the border patrol.

Chief’s belt radio squawked something unintelligible. He thumbed the key and barked, “Be right there.” He stood up and turned to Esther. “Anything else?”

Esther shrugged. “Oh, I know. Did you get through all the damaged houses yet?”

“In town, but not all in the county. Jenny is calling everyone in the phone book, at least all she can. A lot of lines are still down, though, and the power isn’t all back on, either. Take care.”

Esther heard him say something to Barbara on his way out. In her mind, the man looked like he’d aged ten years in the last three days. He even walked like he was carrying the whole town on his shoulders. Maybe she should have insisted he have a checkup. With something niggling at the back of her mind, she walked out to the records closet and pulled his file. Sure enough, his BP was elevated and she’d noticed an irregularity in his heartbeat, but he’d blown her off when she suggested he go in for tests. She checked the date. Two months ago. Sliding the file back in place, she closed her eyes for a moment, calling up the picture of him sitting across from her. Had there been changes caused by something other than weariness and pressure?…as if that weren’t enough? How could she get him back in and clap a cuff on his arm? An EKG wouldn’t be a bad idea, either.