ALLUSIVE AFTERSHOCK

by Susan Griscom

  “Now that we’re older, I just wanted to make sure I could actually take you.”

  I nodded and walked past him toward the pile of wood. “You didn’t take me, you just sucker-punched me.”

  All of a sudden Max plowed into me from behind, tackling me to the ground. He got in another punch, but I was quick to counter. So much for thinking Max and I were going to start getting along again. I didn’t want to fight but I wasn’t going just lie still and let Max beat the holy crap out of me. He sent his fist flying again and caught me below the eye but I came right back and planted my knuckles against his jaw. We scrambled to our feet and just as I regained my balance, he head-butted me in the stomach and I fell backwards on the ground with Max on top of me. We wrestled for a few minutes, our arms wrapped around each other like lovers and I realized neither one of us was winning.

  “Have you had enough yet?” I asked. We were both breathing heavily, our breath hovering in little white puffy clouds.

  “Yeah, guess so,” Max huffed out and I let him go.

  “You’re an ass.”

  “Yeah, well, you are too.” He stood and held out his hand to me. I blinked, not sure if it was a joke or not, but decided to take a chance. I latched on as he pulled me up and Max spread his blanket on the ground. “Let’s load it up. We can take twice as much, but we need to hurry. It’s freezing out here.”

  “Good idea.” We quickly piled wood onto the blanket.

  “Did you know her eyes light up when you enter the room?” Max asked, tossing another log on top of the blanket.

  I didn’t say anything, not sure how to respond, but I was beaming inside at the revelation.

  “Well, they do. I’ve never seen them light up like that before.”

  We piled more wood onto the blanket in silence until we had a stack about two feet high and four feet long. “I think this will do it for now,” I said.

  “If you ever hurt her, Reese, I’ll bust your balls.

  I nodded. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, but there’s no chance of that ever happening.”

  “Which one?”

  “Both. Me hurting Adela or, you busting my balls.”

  Max grinned. “Yeah, right. Man, you’ve got it bad. I always knew you had a thing for her, but never realized until this moment how bad.”

  Holding on to the corners of the blanket, we walked it back toward the door of the museum.

  “I’m sorry about your mom,” Max said.

  Startled, I glanced back at him, causing me to trip over a rock. I fell forward, dropping my end of the blanket as pieces of wood scattered across the white ground.

  “Klutz,” Max said, laughing while he tripped over one of the logs and fell to the ground beside me. I balled up a handful of snow and threw it at him.

  “Cut it out!” He grabbed a handful and sent it right back and then, as if no time had elapsed, we were back in fourth grade, throwing snowballs at one another and rolling around laughing.

  Adela opened the door. “What’s going on?”

  “Court tripped,” Max belted out in uncontrollable laughter.

  “Then Max tripped,” I managed, laughing even harder.

  Then Adela was down in the snow, wrestling with the two of us, giggling. We rolled around throwing snow at each other, laughing so hard my stomach hurt. It felt good to laugh with Max again, even better to laugh with the three of us together. This was the way it was supposed to be.

  The rumbling started out slow ... but quickly intensified as a loud crash from somewhere above our heads reverberated through the air.

  Chapter 36

  ~~ Courtland ~~

  Jeez, when are these aftershocks going to stop?

  The crack was so loud it sounded like an explosion. It was almost like slow motion as a tree limb broke apart from its trunk while gravity did the rest, bringing that humongous branch right down toward us. Our bodies did the slow-mo dreamlike scramble.

  “Look out!” Max shouted and rolled to his right.

  “Adela!” I grabbed onto her arm and tried to pull her toward me and out of the way, but the branch fell too fast and too hard, and she screamed as it caught her left shin, pinning her to the snow angel impression she’d made only a few seconds earlier.

  “Oh God.” I scrambled over to her, squatting at her side. At the same time, Max jumped up and ran to her, kneeling in the snow on her other side.

  She pushed down with her hands to pull herself free. “I … I can’t move.” She winced, biting her lower lip and cried, “God, my leg … my leg.”

  “Can you move?” I asked.

  “No. I’m stuck. Ow, it hurts,” she grunted. “I think it might be broken. Help me, please,” she cried.

  “Shhh … shhh.” I whispered and stroked her head. “We’ll get you free.”

  She leaned her head back in the snow and grimaced.

  I glanced at the limb. The bulk of it landed about five feet from her but the portion that lay on top of her leg didn’t look to be so heavy that we couldn’t lift it.

  “We gotta get this off of her. I might be able to pry it up if you can pull her out,” Max said.

  I sprang to my feet and stared down at the branch. “Okay, count to three and I’ll pull her out.”

  “Ready?”

  He nodded. “One, two, three.” Max’s face contorted from the strain but the limb wouldn’t budge. He straightened, glanced around and ran to the other side of the yard. He came back in a few seconds with a large thick metal rod.

  I nodded. “Okay, that should work.”

  Max placed the rod under the tree limb and put his entire weight on it until the limb rose up enough to see Adela’s leg, pressed down and packed into the snow. When I prepared to shift Adela’s body, he yelled at me. “Wait! Don’t pull yet. You’ll need to come here and clear some of the snow away before you move her.”

  Max maintained pressure on the rod while I dug the snow away with my hands.

  “I’ve still got it. Go ahead a pull her out now.”

  I tugged Adela several inches away from the fallen tree and she screamed in agony. I knelt down beside her and lifted her pant leg, revealing the already bruised skin surrounding her ankle.

  Max looked at her foot. “It looks like the snow may have helped reduce some of the impact. It doesn’t look too bad,” he said as he glanced at me and shook his head.

  I could have kissed Max right then for having the brains to keep the damage assessment to a minimum. The last thing Adela needed was to know her ankle was shattered. There was nothing in any emergency medical kit that was going to help her even if we hadn’t left it in the cellar.

  “We need to get you inside.” I glanced around the area for something to place under her leg so we could carry her into the building. The scent of fresh cut pinewood filled my nostrils as I turned my head toward the broken branch and the old dilapidated museum we now called home. I grabbed three flat—as flat as I could find—boards about four to six inches wide from the pile Max and I lugged over and slipped one under Adela’s ankle being careful to go deep enough under the snow not to disturb it. I put a board on each side making a sort of wooden cast.

  “Max, inside my pack there’s some thin rope. Can you go get it?”

  He sprang up, running into the museum before I even finished asking him to go get the twine. He was back a minute later with the curled up strands hanging from his hands.

  “Wrap that around the boards to keep them in place.” I held the pieces of wood and her leg a few inches from the ground so he could get the twine around several times. “Don’t bother knotting it. We’ll need to undo it when we get her inside. We can put a better splint on it then to keep it immobilized until we can get her to a doctor.” If we can get her to a doctor. “Grab her under the arms. I’ll take this half since I’m already here. Let’s try not to jostle her leg too much.”

  We carried Adela into the building as if she was a fragile piece of glass ready to break if we bumped into anything, her ashen f
ace cringing with every move. We laid her on the sleeping bag close to the fireplace then Max ran out and gathered up some of the wood we’d dropped and built up the fire.

  “Adela,” I whispered close to her ear and she opened her eyes.

  “Court, it hurts.”

  “I know and I’m sorry. I’m pretty sure it’s broken. I’m gonna go outside and get some snow to pack around your ankle, which should help keep the swelling down.”

  I found two slats of plastic lying on the floor behind the counter. They must have been part of the display. They were a little too wide but flatter than the boards I’d used from outside. I placed them on each side of Adela’s ankle, leaving one of the boards underneath her, and wrapped the twine around them to secure them in place. Actually, it was good that the plastic pieces were wide because it left room to pack on the snow. I propped her foot on top of several boards and used the blanket Max had as a cushion under her foot. We packed some snow around her ankle then sat huddled in front of the fire; Max had stoked it up fairly high. Adela’s ankle needed to be set and I was worried we might not be rescued, a bit of information I decided to keep to myself. I figured Max was thinking the same thing.

  “How’s Bambi holding out?” Max asked.

  “I think there’s enough to get us through a few more days, as long as the snow keeps it cold.”

  Max picked up the knife and I put my hand out to take it from him.

  “Relax. I’m just going to go outside and cut some meat.”

  I nodded. It was time to start trusting him and I didn’t think Max was stupid enough to try to take off with only a knife in this blizzard. Besides, now that Adela was hurt, I didn’t think Max was going to leave her. Not the way he did before. He still cared about her, although sometimes he had a bizarre way of showing it.

  “I’ll bring in enough for all of us.”

  I sat on the sleeping bag next to Adela and poked a stick at the fire then added two more logs to it.

  Suddenly, the door swung open and Max ran in yelling. “Helicopter,” gasping for breath, “helicopter. There’s a helicopter circling over the museum.”

  I jumped up and ran outside. Up in the air above us flew a rescue helicopter. Max and I jumped and waved our arms in the air, yelling, hoping to catch their attention.

  Within a few minutes, the helicopter landed in the middle of the street right in front of the museum.

  I found myself hugging Max and waited as two men stepped out and headed toward us, CAL FIRE emblems stuck on the sleeves of their jackets. “You kids okay?” one of them yelled over the whirl of the helicopter blades.

  “No, there’s a girl inside with a broken ankle,” I shouted.

  The taller of the two ran back to the copter and came out carrying a stretcher and a bag. “Take us to her.”

  Adela glanced up when we entered the museum.

  One of the guys studied Adela’s ankle. “Good job on the splint, you do this?” He looked up at me and I nodded, numbly.

  “Name’s Paul. You are?”

  “Court,” I said, pointing to myself. “That’s Max and this is Adela.”

  “That’s Sam,” Paul said, pointing to the other guy.

  “How did you find us?” Max asked.

  “We saw the smoke from the chimney. This town’s been deserted for over three years. We knew somebody must be stranded here. You look like you’ve been getting along alright, except for this little break,” he said with a grin and winked directed at Adela. “Is it just you three?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “We were on our way to the next town, searching for a shelter when the snow hit. We’ve been here for four days now waiting for it to let up.”

  “It’s amazing you survived this long. The earthquake and aftershocks have destroyed most of California, killed thousands. You’ll be safe now. We’ll get you to a shelter.”

  Paul and his partner, Sam, carefully placed Adela on the stretcher and took her to the helicopter. I grabbed the sleeping bag; it was something I wanted to keep forever, to remember, not sure how things were going to work out now that we’d been rescued.

  “I don’t think you’ll be needing that anymore,” Max said when he saw the sleeping bag.

  I shrugged and headed toward the helicopter with the bag still under my arm.

  Chapter 37

  ~~ Courtland ~~

  The shelter, an old elementary school recently restored and used as business offices, was now set up with separate buildings for sleeping and eating and one infirmary. When we arrived, the first thing we did, after Adela’s ankle had been set and plastered with a cast, was ask about her parents and the twins and were advised to check the list in the main building. Both Max and I insisted on sticking around the medical building until Adela was ready to go with us. I pushed her in a wheel chair and Max walked beside her as we headed to the facility where we would find out about Adela’s family and receive supplies and cot assignments.

  The main building, I surmised, had actually been the old library, as there were still bookshelves lining some of the walls. Four desks had replaced the other shelves—each with a sign propped on it, stating which station it was. Station 1 was where we checked in.

  Three women sat behind a long table piled with papers and lists. When we told one of the ladies our names, she found them on her list and placed a check mark beside them. Adela asked about her family, but her mom and the twins’ names were still unchecked.

  We headed to the next station—the one with the dreaded list of casualties.

  The lady looked at her list and then back up at us, her eyes filled with sorrow as she said, “I’m sorry, your parents didn’t survive, Max. And your father, Courtland, is also gone.” Max and I looked at each other. We already knew about our folks, but having someone actually say it made us both teary eyed and we hugged each other and held on like we’d been the best of friends our entire lives.

  “What about my dad?” Adela asked. “The other lady mentioned my mom and brother and sister, but she didn’t say anything about my dad.”

  The lady searched her list by Adela’s name, looked up and shook her head. “I’m sorry. He … he’s listed here as deceased.”

  I swear, if Adela hadn’t already been sitting in that chair, she would have collapsed. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she sobbed into her hands. I sank down on my knees in front of her and pulled her against my chest. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. I’m so sorry.”

  The lady said they received updates every morning from all the other shelters and to check back with her the next day after ten o’clock to see if there was any word about the rest of Adela’s family. Then she told us to go to the station 3 and pick up some supplies and we would get further instructions there on where to go and what to do.

  Adela’s head hung low, her eyes teary. I stood beside her, placed my hand on her shoulder as Max came and did the same on her other side. I didn’t mind as much as I thought I would. The old fourth grade proclamation of sharing Adela came to mind and I couldn’t help smile. We could share this way, as long as Max knew his place. Adela needed friends. We all did. Instead of heading to the next station, we huddled against the wall in the corner of the room for about thirty minutes or so to give Adela some time to accept the fact that her dad was gone.

  After we got our supplies, including water, food tickets, bedding and some other incidental things, we headed toward our allotted areas. We stopped in front of the three cots, holding our stuff in our arms. I still held on to the sleeping bag.

  “It’s not the Hilton, but I suppose it’s better than the museum,” Adela said.

  “Or the cellar,” Max said.

  Adela and I shared a glance. I’d always remember the cellar, the place where I kissed Adela the first time—her very first time ever being kissed. I doubted either one of us would ever forget it.

  We made up our beds—well, Max and I made Adela’s, too—with the sheets and blankets we’d been given and put our other stuff on the floor underneath. Max sat
in the center of his cot and I plopped down on mine. Adela stayed in the wheel chair between her cot and Max’s, trying to shove her cot against mine. I smiled and got up, pushing the two cots together. I picked her up out of the chair and placed her in the center of her cot then sat on mine and held her hand.

  ~~ Adela ~~

  The second day in the shelter, Court found out they had horses there. When he and Max approached me, Max holding a pair of crutches, I blinked. “Come one, we’ll go see if he’s there,” Max said.

  “Don’t get your hopes up, Adela,” Court said. “The chances of Big Blue wandering this far north are really slim.”

  “I know, I know,” I said, but when we entered the yard, I couldn’t believe my eyes and gasped. There he was down by the fence at the end on the left side. Misty stood right beside him. “They survived!” I took off as fast as I could on my crutches and Court was right behind me.

  “There you are, Blue,” I purred, stroking his nose and he nuzzled my neck letting me know he missed me.

  Court laughed and patted Big Blue’s back and then did the same to Misty. “I can’t believe it,” he shook his head. “I never would have thought they’d make it.”

  “Do you think I can ride him?” I asked Court.

  “Not with that cast.”

  “You kids like horses?” A dark-haired man about the same age as my dad said from behind us.

  “Court has a way of calming them, even when they’re frightened,” I bragged.

  “Sounds like you know a little about horses, son,” the guy said.

  Court glanced at the man and then turned back to petting Blue. “Yes, sir, so I’ve been told.”

  “Well if you’re not too busy, I could use some assistance around here. How’d you like to help take care of these superb creatures?

  “Love to.”

  “My name’s Doug, what’s yours?”

  “Courtland … Court, and this is Adela and Max.”