“The pond has grown,” I said. I stopped the Humvee when we came to an area where the road was under water. We both got out.
“This really isn’t a problem for the Hummer, Allex,” Jim said.
“Humor me, Jim. I want to be sure there is road under that water!” I took my walking stick and began to wade through the ten foot wide pool of water, probing as I went. Intent as I was, I didn’t realize Jim was walking parallel to me, seven feet away – the width of the Hummer. “Feel anything missing?” I asked. He shook his head. “Me neither.” I breathed a sigh of relief and we both trekked back.
“To be on the safe side, I’m going to lead you across on the same path we just checked,” Jim said. “It’d be a bitch if we strayed a foot too far only to find the road was gone.” Jim took the walking stick, centered himself in between our two paths and waited for me to pull closer. About midway through the deep puddle the Hummer started to bog down.
“It’s the trailer, Allex! Stay straight and give it more gas – you’re almost through!” He stepped out of the way and I accelerated, sending little waves splashing outward in both directions. The trailer started to slide as the front tires grabbed dry ground. Once completely free of the puddle I stopped and got out.
“Well, that was… exciting,” I said, my hands shaking a little.
“You did great,” Jim said, catching up to the Hummer. We looked out at the small lakes that had formed in the last month.
“I can see why this could cause road issues,” I said. “We had very little snowfall this year. In a normal year, the meltdown of the snowpack would have made this unpassable for us.”
We continued on, still moving slowly and cautiously. There wasn’t any more water over the road, however, recent rains had made some areas slick with orange mud.
“Not being from around here, forgive my question of what may be common knowledge. What makes this mud orange?” Jim asked.
“There are two factors. The first is the area is iron-rich. Most wells have a lot of iron in them and need filters unless they are really deep. The other reason is the rain and snowmelt run along the ground and travel through fallen leaves, pulling the color. The water is literally stained with organic tannins and that settles into the ground.”
We traveled slowly for another hour, when the sky started getting dark.
“Looks like we’re in for more rain. Are you okay with the driving?” Jim asked.
“It won’t be long, maybe another ten miles and we’ll be back on pavement. I’m fine, really,” I said as a crack of thunder roared at us and a streak of brilliant lightning split the sky. “Whoa! That came up quick.” Another flash of light was followed ten seconds later by a long, slow, very loud roll. The next ten minutes was peppered with sky brightening flashes and far off thunder.
“It sounds like the storm may be moving off,” I said hopefully. Then the sky opened up and we were deluged with heavy sheets of cold rain. I held steady in the center of the gravel road, a white knuckle grip on the wheel. It was getting increasingly difficult to see.
“Hang in there, Allex, we’re almost out.”
We entered a more wooded area that would lead us to the mine road. Once again on pavement, I stopped to take a few deep breaths. The lightning and thunder were now coming simultaneously. The rain increased as the wind picked up and rocked the solid Humvee.
“I think we should find some shelter and wait this out, Jim. I don’t like the idea of us being in a big metal box, pulling another big metal box, during an electrical storm!”
“I agree, but where?”
“The mine is just up the road from here,” I said, making a hard left turn.
*
It was late afternoon when I pulled around the guard gates and drove past the administration buildings. In the artificial darkness caused by the storm the entrance to the mine itself sat, gaping like a giant maw. I pulled in and stopped. I got out of the car shaking from the adrenaline surge. Jim climbed out, still cradling his hand, and walked around looking at the structure in amazement.
“This is incredible! How did you know it was here?” he asked.
How did I explain the time I spent there, waiting for word if John was alive and trapped or dead and crushed beneath tons of rock after a cave-in? That felt like a lifetime ago, when it really had been less than ten months.
“The emergency manager got free tours,” I said, covering up the painful memories with a fragment of truth. I looked around, noting the chairs and desk were gone, the monitors I had watched were gone too, and only the map was left on the wall.
“How far back does this go? It’s too dark to see.”
“At this level, another two hundred feet, then it turns and starts to descend in multiple switchbacks.”
“I think what I’m going to do then, is pull back out of here and back the trailer in so we have access to our supplies without the chance of getting soaked,” Jim stated, climbing into the Hummer while I moved off to the side and out of his way.
The gloom was oppressive as we worked to unload a few supplies from the Hummer.
“The rain hasn’t slowed. If anything, it’s even heavier,” Jim said.
The rain came in gray sheets, and the thunder continued to boom with each flash of lightning, illuminating the recesses of this manmade cave. The intensity and briefness of the flashes left me blinded for a few seconds each time, to the point of having spots dancing in my eyes. I tried to keep my sight on the interior, however, the mesmerizing fury kept claiming my attention.
“We’re not going anywhere tonight, so we might as well make camp,” I sighed. So much for getting home today.
We turned the tent to face inward, in the event the rain drained into the shaft. “Even though we can’t pound stakes into the concrete floor, I think enough supplies and us in the tent will hold it. It seems to stand well on its own,” Jim said. He finished threading the final pole in the tent seams.
I set up the camp stove to fix an early dinner since we’d skipped lunch, and Jim lit the kerosene lantern to warm up the tent. It was decidedly chilly inside the mine entrance. While I fried chicken patties for sandwiches, Jim fixed us each a drink, leaning on the tailgate of the Hummer to enjoy his.
“Here’s to one final adventure.” He clinked his tin cup to mine.
“It was a pipe-dream to think we would make it home without one more happening to write about,” I chuckled.
“Have you been writing down everything about our trip?” Jim asked suspiciously.
“Well, not everything. Some things are just too private, and I’m not likely to forget those.” I sat down next to him. “How’s the hand?”
“Throbbing a bit, but not too bad.”
“The initial healing will be less than a week. The severed nerve endings will take longer, as will the broken bone. I keep thinking how fortunate it was that your non-dominant hand was hurt. You can still use a knife, a fork, a pencil, even your weapon as you always did. Even though many things require two hands you’ll have use of the three uninjured fingers in a day or so. In time you won’t even miss that pinky.”
We finished our sandwiches, washed down with a pleasant California red blend, and retired to the warmed tent to listen to the pounding rain.
CHAPTER 23
JOURNAL ENTRY: May 17
The storms haven’t subsided. The lightning strikes shake the ground; the thunder is so loud it hurts my ears; and the rain pounding the ground never lets up – it would make a good torture method.
We walked further back into the mine to see if the distance and depth would block out some of the noise. It didn’t work. The sound followed us and echoed off the walls, giving it an eerie tone. We did try a bit further, however, my claustrophobia kicked into high gear and I couldn’t breathe.
We’ll just have to wait it out. At least we have plenty of food, drink, and companionship. Jim now owes me almost a million dollars in cribbage losses.
~~~
May 18
&nbs
p; It was mid-afternoon and the storms had finally stopped. There was only a mild foggy drizzle now, though a much heavier, dense fog hung just below the tops of the trees.
“We’re less than an hour from home, Allex, I say we go for it,” Jim said while he folded up his sleeping bag in preparation for taking down the tent.
“Yeah, let’s do it. The rest of the route is all paved, so there shouldn’t be any problems.”
*
The first mudslide we encountered was ten minutes after we left the mine. We skirted most of it and continued on. The next one was worse.
Jim stood by the front bumper and stared at the eighteen inches of wet mud and sand that covered more than two-thirds of the pavement and stretched for ten feet.
“The Hummer might make it, I doubt the trailer will.”
“Then we shovel,” I said, getting the small collapsible shovel that was part of the camping gear.
Jim paced out the dimensions and marked where to dig. “We don’t have to remove all of it, just enough to reduce the depth by half and wide enough for the left tires of the Hummer and the trailer,” he concluded. I started digging. Jim spelled me, however he couldn’t do much with the injured hand. He banged it once with the shovel and the pain took him to his knees, though he stoically said nothing.
We dug for an hour. Wet sand is heavy and my back ached so much I fantasized about the hot tub and the steaming, bubbling hot water. It was the only thing that kept me going, that and seeing my sons again.
“I think we can try it now, Allex,” Jim said after he walked the length of the digging, kicking at the dirt occasionally.
“Good, because I don’t think I could lift another shovel full.” I got behind the wheel and drove right through, never hesitating, never stopping. Once I cleared the slide I sped up to a reasonable speed and within twenty minutes we pulled up to the stop sign at county road 695. I turned right, heading for my home.
“I’m just going to let them know we’re back, Jim, then we can take the trailer to the lake house.”I pulled into my horseshoe shaped driveway and spotted Eric out in the garden working in the late afternoon sunlight. Chivas came running to greet us.
Eric dropped the hoe he was using and followed the dog. “Mom!” He swept me up in his arms for a hug. I winced silently from the pain in my ribs. “It’s so good to see you! We have all been really worried! Rayn! Mom’s back!” His new wife stepped out of the house and came to us for hugs. Eric stepped over to the large metal triangle I’ve had for years and banged away on it.
“You’re looking well, Rayn, how are you feeling?” I asked. I know it’s only been six weeks but I was thinking she would be showing her pregnancy more.
“I’m doing great. Dr. James let us listen to the heartbeat a few days ago!” she answered.
The gonging alerted Jason, and soon everyone was gathered around. I almost wept with joy at seeing my family. They would never know that I had doubted this reunion at one point.
“I guess you will be wanting your house back, eh?” Eric said sadly. His arm was around Rayn’s shoulders and she had taken on a blank look. Something was going on here, I could feel it.
Was this that moment when my decision would play out on its own as I told Jim it would? Many things ran through my mind in a space of a second or two.
“Actually, Eric, I’ve been considering moving into town with Jim and Tom. There’s still so much work to be done,” I said, like it was the plan all along. I saw Jim’s head turn toward the conversation and he smiled. “Would you mind if you and Rayn stayed here?” I could almost see the relief slide off my son. “I’ll come back for the rest of my clothes, but I need a few things now. I haven’t been able to do laundry in days!” I slipped past everyone and let myself into the house, where I was greeted by Tufts. I picked him up and snuggled him, knowing I would have to leave him behind with Eric. I grabbed a few things from my closet, noting new items hanging there that must be Rayn’s.
Eric had followed me in.
“Mom, thank you,” he gave me another hug. “Please don’t move into town unless it’s really what you want to do.” He hesitated before continuing, “I want you to know that I really love my brother and Amanda, but living with family in such tight quarters was getting on everyone’s nerves. We’ve gotten along so much better in the last month with us here and them over there.”
I was wondering if that was the tension I felt from them.
“Yes, Eric, this is what I want to do,” I assured him. “We’ll discuss the details another time. Right now all I want to do is get a hot shower and into some clean clothes. It’s been a rough couple of days.” I kissed his cheek and went back outside.
With assurances that we would all get together tomorrow in the afternoon at the lake house in town, Jim and I drove into Moose Creek.
“Pull over,” Jim demanded. After I stopped, he reached across the console and pulled me into a quick kiss. “Couldn’t you have given me some warning?”
“No, I couldn’t, Jim, I didn’t know until that moment. Remember when I said we needed to let the issue of us play out on its own? It just did.” I put the Hummer back in gear and said, “Let’s go home.”
*
I drove down the long sweeping driveway slowly and carefully, parking nose in next to Tom’s dark blue sedan. Jim would have to back the trailer up later.
Tom came out on the small cement stoop, shotgun in hand until he saw us emerge.
“I’ll be damned! I figured if you two ever came back at all it wouldn’t be for a couple more months!” Tom said, giving me a hug tight enough to crack another rib, and then shaking Jim’s hand repeatedly. He gave up on that and delivered a quick, one-armed hug to Jim. I think he missed us.
“Hey, what did you do to your hand?” Tom asked with true concern when he noticed the bandages.
“Trailer slipped while I was changing a tire. No biggie,” Jim said. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to back the trailer into the barn and get it out of sight. Then we can empty the Hummer. Give me a hand?” Tom walked up to the barn and opened the big doors while Jim expertly backed the Hummer up and they disconnected the trailer from the vehicle. They unloaded the chainsaw and the camping gear into the barn to be dealt with later.
When we began removing our personal stuff from the Hummer, Tom noticed the cases of wine.
“Wow, what did you do, find a liquor store?”
“We’ll tell you all about it when we’re done, Tom, and after I get a shower and some clean clothes.” I said.
*
I stuffed my soiled clothes into the washing machine and headed to the basement with what I brought from my house to shower and change. After days hunkered down in the cold, damp mine, hot water never felt so good. I had to stop myself from using it all and saved some for Jim.
I emerged from the lower level wearing a long sleeved ankle length dress of deep red. I ran my fingers through my short wet hair with a sigh. “Oh that felt good!” Both men were staring at me. For the last month, Jim had seen me only in jeans or BDUs, and I suddenly felt very feminine.
“Jim was telling me that you’re moving in with us, Allex,” Tom said. “I think that’s a great idea.” He handed me a drink, the ice cubes floating around in the amber rum.
I glanced at Jim. “Yes, I thought I would take that second bedroom downstairs. I know you use this spare room as an office, and besides, I’ve always preferred the lower level.”
“Excellent! Jim was also telling me you got the EOC in the Soo up and running in only a few days. You’ll have to tell me all about that.”
“All in good time, Tom. Right now I’m sure Jim wants his shower, and I should put together some dinner for us.” I stood. “Oh, and we’re having a small get-together here tomorrow afternoon, just family.”
*
Dinner was a simple pasta dish. I certainly did not feel like being inventive just to satisfy our hunger and the three of us were more anxious to discuss the road trip. We were all sitting on the up
per deck enjoying the mild breezes off Lake Meade and the rest of the second bottle of wine we opened for dinner.
“First, tell me what’s in that trailer,” Tom said, his curiosity bubbling over. “It looks full.”
“It is full,” Jim answered. “Over half of it is booze and wine, which by the way, we’re keeping.”
“Jim, I’ve been mulling over what you said about that, how we’ve earned it,” I said cautiously.
“We have, Allex, especially you,” Jim stated emphatically.
“Oh, I don’t disagree, quite the opposite, actually.” I paused, trying to form my thoughts. “I think we should keep all of it. I know that sounds selfish of me, however we are the ones who risked our lives, literally, to get those supplies. Besides, that food will keep us from needing to tap into the town food pantry, which will mean more for everyone else.” I turned to Tom. “How are the supplies holding up, Tom? I know it’s only been six weeks, but I was pretty much out of touch long before we left.”
“Marsha has done some deep rationing, so it’s still okay. Plus, with fewer people to feed it will go further.” Tom stopped himself from saying more, knowing my husband was one of those fewer mouths. “How much is out there?”
“We filled six tubs with loose cans and there were several cases of things like tomatoes and vegetables that were still shrink-wrapped,” Jim said. “There’s a lot of food out there.”
“My rough estimate is that what we brought back would feed the three of us for six months,” I said.
“Wow,” Tom said.
“Much of it is gourmet stuff, which is logical considering where we found it. There are cans of white meat chicken, albacore tuna, clams, olives, capers and artichoke hearts, things of that nature,” I added. “Some of it I would like to share with my family and maybe our clergy. For the most part though, it’s ours, and I think we should be the ones who decide who gets it, rather than turn it over.”
The Journal: Raging Tide: (The Journal Book 4) Page 18
