Wake the Dawn

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Wake the Dawn Page 10

by Lauraine Snelling


  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 othe
r 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.

  She returned to her office and fired up her computer. She watched the screen change as the monster’s innards did mysterious things, and planned how to attack the mass of reports and paperwork generated by the hideous storm.

  Chapter Ten

  This power outage business was getting old fast. No TV, not that there was any football on Thursday. No computer unless absolutely needed. No laundry. No dishwasher. No anything else that sucked amps out of the generator unnecessarily. Ben sighed and shuffled the deck yet again, laid out still another game of solitaire across the kitchen table.

  Bo walked over to the back door and barked.

  “Hey, shut up!” Ben whispered hoarsely. “Beth’s asleep!” Either Bo needed a rest stop or someone was coming. He hopped up and opened the door. Both, apparently. Bo hastened outside, and Esther stood on the back stoop.

  “Come in! Come in.” He stepped aside and swung the door wide.

  She wore the white jeans and colored shirt that she always wore under her I-am-a-doctor white jacket. With her hair pulled back into a French roll—Ben seemed to remember that was the name of that do—and her face relaxed, she was quite a pretty woman. She stepped inside.

  Ben waved toward the table. “Coffee?”

  “Thanks. I have no power at the house yet, so no coffee.” She sat down.

  “Then it sounds like no breakfast, either. What would you like? We have most everything.” He waved a hand. “Propane stove.”

  “Really? What I like and what I usually eat are two different things. Usually I just grab a doughnut and run, but what I like is bacon and eggs. Never have time for it.”

  “Make time this morning. My treat. I assume you’re on your way to work.” Ben pulled down the cast-iron frying pan and got out the egg carton and bacon. She sat silent. He paused and looked at her. “Is that okay?”

  She took a breath. “Yes. Yes, very okay. You surprised me, is all. I wasn’t expecting…I was just going to stop by a minute…Yes. I really should be saying, Oh please don’t go to all that bother, but it sounds so good. Thank you. I didn’t even get the doughnut this morning.”

  “So what you’re doing here is checking up on me and possibly administering a Breathalyzer test.”

  She turned pink. She actually blushed. “I didn’t—”

  He interrupted. “We’re friends and colleagues. Let’s be honest. Honestly, I’m happy to make breakfast for both of us, since I haven’t eaten yet, and I assure you that so far, I’ve stayed off the sauce.” He poured her a mug of coffee and set the creamer out beside the sugar bowl. “Real half-and-half.”

  “‘So far.’ Good answer. If you said Absolutely not, I’d be concerned. Are Ansel and Beth here?”

  “Beth is asleep. She takes the night shift so she can feed Nathan. They finally agreed on the name Nathan. Bacon smells so good as it fries.” He forked the bacon onto a paper towel and asked, “How do you want your eggs?”

  “Over easy. Or scrambled. Whichever is easiest.”

  “I’ll just scramble a bunch, for when Beth gets up.”

  She grew wide-eyed as he broke eggs into a bowl. “You can afford to use so many eggs?”

  “Ansel is down the street at their house with the wheelbarrow, bringing over all their freezer and fridge stuff, pantry stock, baby stuff—this is his third run so far. As regards supplies, we’re in tall clover.” He dug his whisk out of the drawer.

  “I am constantly amazed by—” She pursed her lips a moment in thought. “I guess, by the resiliency in this community. You people all act like this disaster is no big deal.”

  Now it was his turn to think. He drained off most of the bacon grease. “You say ‘you people.’ You’ve been here, what, six years? Why are we still ‘you people’ and not us?” He glanced at her.

  She was sitting openmouthed.

  Apparently she needed some time, so he gave her the space while he dug out the milk and sniffed it. Still good. He seasoned the eggs and started whisking.

  “I never thought of that. I do feel like an outsider. Maybe because the city fathers won’t listen to anything I say or try to do. Maybe because all the people I meet I only meet professionally, as a doctor to a patient. Besides, I’m not much of a schmoozer. Bit of introversion, you might say.”

  “Just a bit. But you grew up around here.”

  “About four hours away. We were closer to Bemidji, so if we drove somewhere, it was there. Not over this way, to Pineville. When I took this job I knew about where Pineville was, but I’d never been here.” She watched him put the bacon in a warm oven. “However, when I was in high school my father rooted for Pineville, not my school.”

  “What was your school? Riverview?”

  “Jefferson. My school had a lousy football record and Pineville was top of the pile. My father dwells heavily on success that you can measure.”

  He poured the eggs in the frying pan. “I think I hear you. A lot of our rooters don’t measure Pineville by academic excellence. Can’t see that on a scoreboard. Just football.”

  “Exactly. Mom’s the same way. I’m not a resident at Mayo, so I haven’t succeeded.”

  “I feel sorry for her.”

  “Sorry!” Silence. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

  “You’re successful. I watched you in action. But it doesn’t show on a scoreboard.”

  “Or in the local paper in that column that crows about citizens who made good.” She sipped her coffee.

  Snuffling from the other room. He raised a finger. “Her Highness. At a count of five, you’ll hear a cry. Three, four, five.”

  Dawn wailed. It was not her strident wail, just an I-woke-up-and-I’m-alone cry.

  Esther stood up, grinning. “I’ll take over the eggs.”

  “Thank you.” He walked out into the formal dining room. It was a nursery now, one of two. He and Ansel had brought over their crib for Nathan, who slept upstairs, and their folding travel crib for Dawn down here. Resilient? Yeah. He scooped up Dawn and laid her down on the sideboard, which now served as a diapering table. She wasn’t poopy, but she sure was soaked. That taken care of, he draped her on a shoulder and took her to the kitchen.

  Esther broke into the brightest smile. “Oh, Ben! She is looking so good! Look at those plump, rosy little cheeks!”

  They swapped chores, he back to his eggs, she to dandling the tiny child who a few days ago teetered on the rim of death.

  The door flew open and Bo bounded inside. Ansel followed closely. “Esther! Good to see you! Ben, I brought some stuff over from the pantry. Esther, we’re stocking Ben’s pantry. Note I didn’t say restocking.”

  She laughed. “But when she went there, the cupboard was bare, and so the poor dog had none.”

  “Oh, the dog had plenty. It’s people food he was short on.”

  Ansel shoved bread into the toaster as Ben served the bacon and eggs. He sort of kept up with the light, idle chatter, but he was aching to ask her the big question: What about Dawn?

  After they finished eating around seven forty-five Esther called the clinic. No appointments. No emergencies. Good. She could come in late.

  Ansel hurried off to work. Dawn insisted on immediate attention, so Ben prepared her bottle.

  Esther watched him a moment. “I’ll clean up the dishes.”

  “Want to do something even more helpful?”

  “Sure.”

  “Take Bo out for a walk. Maybe down by the pond or on that bike trail; half an hour or so. As soon as Beth gets up I’m going to the office to catch up on desk work, and Bo won’t get any exercise.”

  “Neither will you.”

  “With me, exercise is optional. With Bo, well, you better not neglect his.”

  She giggled, a happy, relaxed giggle. It was the first he’d ever heard from her and it pleased him immensely. When she took the leash down from its hook by the
door, Bo figured things out immediately. Eager wagging, eager jumping around. He went off with her without a backward glance.

  Ben stuffed the bottle into Dawn’s mouth and walked out to the front window to watch them go. Dawn slurped contentedly. Bo settled to the trail with élan. Esther was moving along with a spring to her step.

  And that pleased him most of all.

  Chapter Eleven

  You gotta be kidding!”

  Chief Harden shook his head. “How often have you seen me kid about assignments?”

  “Never. But this is ridiculous! I’m not a medic.” Ben knew why he’d not gone on for more emergency training when he was offered the chance. He just didn’t feel he could do as good a job there as on patrol. Bringing in bad guys made his day. So here he stood in front of the chief’s desk wishing he were somewhere else. Anywhere else. At least some sleep and some desk work had made him feel almost back to normal. Now he wanted to get completely back to normal.

  Thoughts of tiny Dawn tickled his mind. She’d smiled at him that morning when he’d given her a second bottle after Esther left. Well, sort of smiled. Beth said it was gas bubble pains. He knew better. And she’d kept one small fist tangled in Bo’s fur and waved the other at Ben.

  Had they not been on patrol in that area, she would never have lasted a night.

  “You did an exemplary job during the storm and we have another one about to hit. The other detail is searching damaged buildings for more victims.”

  “Which is what Bo and I are trained for.”

  “True. And where is Bo?” Chief dropped his chin to stare over his glasses.

  “You said I could leave him home.”

  “I know. If you’d been going out on patrol, he would have come in, too.”

  “So aren’t we wasting his training?” Good point, but Ben knew perfectly well that good points did no good when arguing with Chief. Chief had made up his mind and Ben knew changing it was more like trying to open a bear trap rusted shut. Besides, he wasn’t sure how to get Bo away from his self-assigned duty as guardian of the baby. Ben grimaced and started to turn away but stopped. “Did you get any rest between these fronts?”

 

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