It's Just A Ranch

by Misty Malone

She froze. She’d never heard him use that tone with her before. It was similar to the tone Max used the other night, and that had concerned her. Garrett said that meant he was serious, so she assumed it meant Garrett was serious now. She looked up at him, not saying another word.

  “Thank you. Every time you tell me I worry too much about safety because after all, this is just a ranch, it tells me how unimportant safety is to you, and that bothers me.”

  “You’re not listening to me, damn it, Garrett. I do take safety seriously. I just don’t think you’re giving me enough credit for being able to take care of myself. I survived a lot in New York City, and I’m still here, alive and doing okay.”

  Once again she tried to slide down and off the rock, but he again held her arm, keeping her where she was. “That’s the other thing I want to talk to you about, Mindy, and you just proved to me how important it is that we talk.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Slide back up here, Mindy. We need to talk about what happened in New York.”

  Her head flew up to look at him, and she was already shaking her head. “No, we don’t. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  His voice gentled and he pulled her over closer to him, holding her around her waist with one hand. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I think you need to. I’ve been watching you since you’ve been here, and it’s quite obvious whatever happened has you terribly upset. Anytime anyone mentions anything about your past you tense up. Not only that, but you get upset. Your temper’s gotten the best of you a couple times now. Mindy, don’t let this destroy your life. Tell me what happened.”

  “I can’t,” she said, with tears in her eyes. “It still hurts too much.”

  “I understand that, honey, but I think it’s hurting you even more not to talk about it. This is the third or fourth time I’ve tried to talk to you about it, but you don’t want to. I understand your reluctance, and I’ve let you put it off. But I’ve been watching you, and I realize now that I’m not doing you any favors by allowing you to keep brushing it under the rug.”

  “But it’s hard to even think about it. I don’t even know if I can talk about it.”

  “I think you have to try. I really do think you’ll feel a lot better after you talk to me. It’s difficult seeing you hurting so bad, so please let me try to help you. Maybe it will be easier if we start off with some questions. Will you try? If it gets too difficult we can stop, but can you please try for me?”

  Her eyes were full of unshed tears, but she slowly looked up at him. “You’ll stop if I can’t do it?”

  “Of course I will. But I want you to try your best. I’ll help all I can. It’s just us here, so you don’t have to worry about being interrupted or overheard.” He reached into his pocket. “I brought a couple extra hankies just in case, so let’s see if we can’t get you feeling better, okay?”

  “I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything.”

  “That’s all I ask. Earlier when we were talking about safety you said I don’t give you enough credit for being able to take care of yourself, and that you survived a lot in New York City. Were you in danger in New York?”

  “Not really danger, at least as you think of it.”

  “Okay, I think that’s good. What did you do in New York; what kind of job did you have?”

  She paused, and he could tell she was uncomfortable. He reached over and squeezed her hand and started rubbing it with his thumb, since that always seemed to help her relax, and gave her time. He watched as she tried to compose herself, and eventually looked up at him. “I was a nurse. I was an R.N. in the emergency room.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the tears started flowing freely.

  Garrett thought for several seconds, but started putting the pieces of the puzzle together in his head. He pulled her in against his chest and hugged her to him, holding her tight against him for several minutes. “And you were working on 9/11, when the Twin Towers came down in New York?”

  She didn’t say a word, but nodded. He tightened his hold on her and simply held her. “Cry if you want to, honey. I understand, and I’ll hold you and keep you safe while you do.” Those words seemed to be what she needed to hear, like they were giving her permission and the safety net she needed to be able to let go of her emotions. The tears started flowing unchecked, in a seemingly unending flow. He reached in and gave her a handkerchief, then held her through it all, running one hand down her arm, or playing with her hair gently, but always holding her tight with at least one arm. He talked softly, not saying much, but letting her know he was still here, keeping her safe.

  When the tears seemed to be slowing, he gave her a clean handkerchief, which she accepted gratefully. He gave her time to wipe her eyes and blow her nose before asking anything else. When she appeared to be gaining her control back, he spoke softly. “Honey, I know this is going to be hard, but can you explain what happened, what you saw?”

  He felt her tense, and he started rubbing little circles on her back with one hand, still holding her close to him with the other. He continued to talk softly, in what he hoped was a soothing fashion. “I know it had to be chaotic, but I can’t even imagine what it must have been like in an emergency room. I assume you got some kind of notice of something horrible happening?”

  She swallowed hard a couple times, but nodded, and slowly started talking. “We did. We were told an airplane flew into one of the towers, and to be prepared for masses of casualties. We called in every doctor and nurse we could, then quickly set up a triage team that would evaluate people as they came in, and categorize them. I was part of that team. It didn’t take long at all before they started coming in. It was a steady stream. Many had already passed away by the time they got to us. They were put in a room off to the side, to be identified later. The people who needed stitches and things like that were given to a couple others, who made sure the bleeding was stopped for now, and they’d be patched when there was time.”

  She swallowed hard, but continued. “The seriously injured were taken to surgery right away. Soon the operating rooms were all full, and there were people waiting to go in. As soon as one surgery was over, that surgical team left with the patient, the room was quickly sanitized, and another team hurried in. The surgeon who just finished that patient quickly cleaned up, put on a new surgical gown and gear, and went to the next patient in the triage area that had been deemed the most serious.”

  “Were you doing triage the whole day?”

  She nodded. “Pretty much. They just never stopped coming in.”

  Garrett could see the pain in her eyes, and couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like. He continued to rub her arm to support her, and gave her time to gather her thoughts and strength again.

  She sighed, and held onto his arm tight as she continued. “Then after a period of time people started coming in looking for family members who were in the towers. They couldn’t find them and came to the hospitals looking for them.” She started crying harder again. “We couldn’t help them much. I felt so sorry for them. They were looking for spouses, or children, or even parents. But we couldn’t help them. We had names of the people who weren’t hurt too badly, but that was about it. We didn’t have any names or identification of the ones who were already deceased, or the ones who were unable to talk when they came in. Even some who were conscious were in shock when they came in and couldn’t tell us their names.”

  Garrett realized that not being able to answer people’s questions about their relatives was really hard for her; just as hard as seeing all the people who were hurt so badly. That realization surprised him, but as he thought it through, he could understand it. Her training as a nurse would have taught her to cope with people in pain, but nothing could have prepared her for the desperation these people must have been experiencing. And these desperate people were coming to them for some kind of hope, and they couldn’t give them any. He pulled her in tighter, feeling so sorry for the fragile little lady in
his arms.

  When she gained a little control once again, she went on. “We tried to explain that we didn’t have many names, and they wanted to go look for their relatives. We couldn’t let them do that, but they didn’t understand. It was hard, because I couldn’t blame them for being upset with us. We had no answers for them.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, though,” Garrett whispered.

  “But it didn’t matter. They were hurting and needed someone to be angry with, so when we didn’t have any answers for them, it was easy for them to be angry with us. I didn’t blame them; I would have been, too. But there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Anytime there was a little break in patients being brought in I would go back and try to talk to anyone who was awake, but not identified. Sometimes after having time to get over the initial shock, and if they had been given something for the pain while they waited to be treated more thoroughly, they would be able to answer questions, like who they were. If so, that would be noted on their chart.”

  He waited while she took a couple minutes to pull herself together again. “Periodically we would take a list of those names we did have and go out to the throngs of people looking for relatives. We would post it, saying they were people we did have in there and were treating. If a relative of one of them saw the name, they could come ask and we would tell them what that person’s status was. But every time we posted a new list, although there were always a couple people relieved to see the name of a relative on the list, there were always so many disappointed people who still didn’t know anything about their loved ones.”

  She continued to cry onto his shoulder, which he was fine with, and in fact, encouraged. “Was that the hardest part, honey; not being able to answer their questions?”

  She nodded. “It was for me. I felt awful for all the people who were hurt, especially the ones who had to wait their turn in line before receiving the help they needed. But all those poor people who had no idea if their loved one was even alive, that was awful. You could see the desperation in their eyes and hear it in their voice. They were begging for any information at all—even bad news. At least then they knew and could begin to make peace with the information. But the not knowing was so hard for them, and there were so many people in that situation.” She started crying harder again. “There wasn’t anything at all I could do for them.”

  Garrett felt humbled, and so small. Of course he’d heard about the planes, and the towers coming down; everyone knew about it. It was all over the news. Television showed pictures over and over, and every night on the news you saw more of it. He remembered his feelings at the time. He’d felt terrible, of course, seeing the scenes on the news.

  But listening to Mindy now brought the whole ordeal to life. It brought a whole new aspect of it into focus that he’d never even thought of. Those planes hurt way more people than the ones who were in the towers. Of course it hurt the families of all the people who were injured or killed. But it also had a profound effect on people like Mindy. He could easily see how much it hurt her. She was still struggling with it now, almost two years later. As he thought about it, he was sure she wasn’t the only one like that. All the people working in the hospitals, or on EMT squads, or firemen, or other similar positions had to have felt similar feelings.

  Sure, some people are able to deal with things like that easier than others, but it had to have been very difficult for all of them for a period of time. He wondered how many other people were out there like Mindy, still struggling with it to this degree.

  Over the next two hours he held her while they talked. He asked a couple questions, but generally just let her talk. Once she started talking about it, she seemed willing, almost eager to continue, so he encouraged her to do just that.

  Once she seemed satisfied in what she’d said, he asked a different question, taking her in a different direction. “Over the next several days or weeks I’m sure you worked a lot of extra hours?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Of the initial cases that came in that day, were there any that you didn’t hold out much hope for, that actually pulled through?”

  Her eyes seemed to light up a bit as she thought back, and she smiled. “Yes, there were a few. There was a little boy who wasn’t expected to pull through. Over the next couple of days, the doctors began having a little more hope for him. Several days after that they thought he would pull through, but he was not expected to be able to walk again.”

  She had a proud smile on her face and tears in her eyes again as she finished her story. “Eight months later he walked into the E.R. on his own, proud to tell all of us that the doctor had just told him he could stop using his crutches altogether. He got so many hugs that day,” she recalled. “His mother was crying as she thanked all of us for all we’d done, but we told her that bringing him back in that day was all the thanks we needed. It meant so much to us, seeing him walk in and out, with that big, proud smile on his face.”

  Seeing the expression on her face as she told that story was special to Garrett. He wanted to continue their talk in that direction, but didn’t want anyone worrying about them, so he called his dad. He told him Mindy was with him, and he knew it was getting late and dark, but please don’t worry. He would explain tomorrow.

  He then asked her about any other stories of survivors, and she began relating a few of them. He watched her relax, and could actually see the tension leaving her as she told about the people who did make it, and about the few people she was able to match up with pictures people had brought in, looking for loved ones. He could tell those occasions were very important to her, as well, and encouraged her to talk more about them.

  Talking about those stories was helping her, he could tell, but he was also interested in hearing them. She told about people coming in with pictures of their family and loved ones who were still missing, days after the tragedy happened. She and others always looked at the pictures, and took copies of them. She used to talk to these people, asking about any birthmarks or scars that might be helpful. She explained to Garrett that when people had been hurt badly, they were often so swollen you wouldn’t recognize a picture of them, especially if they had facial injuries.

  The more she talked, the better picture he was getting of what all she’d gone through, and the more respect he had for her. She may be little, but she was obviously a very strong lady. She was there every day for the first month, she’d said, without taking any days off, working long hours daily, doing what she could to help the injured, and their families. She spent a lot of time with the families trying to reassure them, or telling them how they could help their loved one when they were released.

  Seeing her now and listening to her, he realized she was indeed very strong, but she was also very vulnerable. She gave everything she had for them, but it had been a sacrifice. She was totally drained, both physically and emotionally. Now she needed someone to hold her and support her, keep her safe while she healed. She needed someone to help re-energize her. He wanted to be that person, if she would let him.

  Chapter Seven

  It was dark by the time Garrett felt Mindy had made a good first step toward healing. Getting all that off her chest had been very difficult, but he was pretty sure she felt better. Talking about the positive things that happened, the survivors and the miracles, helped a great deal. He would watch, and keep encouraging her to dwell more on those aspects and less on the painful memories in the next few weeks. For now, though, he felt she was in a better place than she had been.

  “Are you ready to go back home?” he asked eventually.

  “Yes.” She wiped her eyes and blew her nose with yet another clean hankie he produced for her. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  “Feel better?”

  “I do,” she admitted. “I was afraid I couldn’t do that because it hurt so bad. But you were right; I do feel better.”

  “Good. Thank you for trusting me and trying. I know it was hard.” He held her again as her eyes teared up.
He watched her fighting for control. “And thank you for telling me what it was like,” he said rather quietly. “I heard about it, saw the news coverage, but you lived it. Thank you for telling me about it from your perspective.”

  She looked up at him with a rather blank look on her face. “Was my perspective different than what the news reported?”

  “Very much. It looked terrible, and I knew it was an awful situation, but it came to life, became real to me listening to you tell it. Mindy, you are a very strong little lady, and it’s quite plain to me there were a lot of people who were lucky you were working there that day and over the next month or so. It took a toll on you, but you helped so many people, and they’re all better off because of you.”

  “Oh, that’s crazy. I didn’t do much. There was so much I couldn’t do to help them.”

  “And you’re right; you couldn’t help them. You couldn’t give them information you didn’t have. But look what all you did do. Every time you talked to people, telling them what to expect when their loved one came home, or how to help them, or encouraged the ones who were patients, that all helped. People in that situation don’t know what to expect, or what to do. You had that knowledge, and shared it with them. You encouraged them. You gave them hope. You gave them something to hold onto. Don’t ever underestimate how much that means.”

  Mindy had pulled away from his chest and was looking at him as he spoke, and tears were once again filling her eyes. When he was done speaking, the tears started escaping. They didn’t last long, though, and she looked up at him again, with a different look in her eyes. “Thank you, Garrett. No one ever said anything like that to me, and I never considered it on my own. Do you think it really did help people?”

  “Oh, honey, there’s no question in my mind. All the encouragement and hope you gave those people was very important. Don’t ever doubt that or forget it. You helped a tremendous number of people, and I am so proud of you.”