Routine Activities

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Routine Activities Page 5

by Nick Niels Sanders


  From time to time, Marcella looked around to see how things were riding out the storm. She noticed with considerable satisfaction that her part of the camp was under good control and doing well.

  Marcella’s next priority was personal safety. She did not feel as though she was in any particular danger, but she was tending the fire, so she had on her apron, which was a good thing, as the fire hissed and snapped and threw sparks and little bits of fire at her. She certainly did not want to end up receiving burn care with Jeanne.

  Lunch, somehow, was never a priority that entered her mind.

  James looked around and decided the Kitchen Tent was as under control as could be expected. He would check on the rest of the camp.

  When he got to his own lean-to, he found the tarp flapping wildly in the wind in spite of it having been tied more securely just a couple hours earlier. Deciding what was good for life rafts would be good for the lean-tos also, he detached the front ropes so the whole tarp dropped to the ground, moving the tent posts a bit farther away, retying the ropes to keep the tarp on the ground, then, for good measure, putting sand on top of the tarp to help hold it down.

  As he continued through the encampment, he saw other lean-tos made of tarpaulins, flapping as vigorously as his had been and lean-tos made from life rafts, seeming more substantial. Marcella slept in a tarpaulin lean-to; he lowered it, staked it and put sand on it. The infirmary lean-tos used by Jim and George were life rafts. They appeared stable. He tightened ropes. Roger was in a tarpaulin lean-to, which he gave the same treatment as Marcella’s.

  The infirmary lean-to that had been occupied by Lord and Lady Richard, and recently used as the treatment area for Jeanne, was flapping wildly in the wind, the two pots of water for Jeanne’s burn care carefully stored under it. He moved the pots to the side, lowered and staked the tarp and piled sand on it, then carried the pots through the still increasing wind and rain to the Kitchen Tent, leaving them just inside the tent at the leeward edge of the tent, his appearance being warmly greeted by Maria, who had been wondering, yet again, where he was at a moment of crisis.

  When Maria finished getting Julia into place, she stood and looked around. Where were Val and Shelly? Looking toward the rear (or at least what she thought of as the rear – the north end) of the tent, she thought she saw the top of Val’s head at the level of several empty crates they had been using as seats for eating. Moving in that direction, she quickly confirmed her observation of Val’s head. She was bending over Shelly, who was lying on her side, curled up as much into a ball as she could get, rocking slightly back and forth.

  “Hi, Maria. Shelly is frightened. I’m not sure what to do.”

  “Hi Shelly. Can you talk about it?”

  “I… I… I dunno.”

  “Let’s try. It’s really windy.”

  “I’m so frightened.”

  “Has this kind of thing happened to you before?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you tell me about it?”

  “We were visiting my grandparents in South Carolina. They lived on one of the little sand islands off the coast. A hurricane warning happened and we were evacuated. It was a horrible storm, like this. When we came back, it must have been three or four days later, there was nothing left of their house.”

  “That would be pretty frightening. How old were you?”

  “I guess about ten.”

  “I’ll bet you felt pretty much out of control.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “You know, even when they think they are in control, ten year-olds are never really in control of anything.”

  “Well….”

  Val chimed in: “I never thought of it like that, but that’s really right, isn’t it?”

  “When we’re not in control but are allowed to believe we are in control, and suddenly it is very clear how much we are not in control, sometimes that can be a very frightening thing. It threatens us at the level of who we think we are.”

  “Oh. I think I see what you are saying.”

  “You’re an adult now, and you are much stronger than you were then, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. And that is really what you are trying to get me to see. The situation may truly be dangerous, but there are still things I can do.”

  “And maybe one of them is to choose how you react to the danger.”

  “I’m not likely to be any safer curled up here on the ground than helping out?”

  “Actually, maybe you are less safe, because you are not helping to get the things done that need to be done to keep us all safer.”

  “I need to think.”

  “I hope so. Shelly, you are not a ten year-old. You are not even the woman who came ashore with me a week and a half ago. You are strong and you are capable; you are beautiful and you are thoughtful; you are courageous. You can help. I’ll bet Marcella would feel better if you were helping her. And Val would be proud of you for doing it.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes.”

  Shelly sat up. Her fact was streaked with sandy tear marks. Her lips quivered. She sniffled. But the machinery was working; Maria had hit the right chords.

  “Val, I’m a mess. Is there a cloth and some water? I need to wash my face or I’ll frighten Marcella with how awful I look.”

  “Yes, Shelly. I’ll be right back.”

  Shelly washed up, took a deep breath and went to help Marcella, who was indeed happy to have someone to help her tend the fire and to discuss what to do about lunch. After lingering for a few moments to talk with Maria, Val followed along behind and sat observing for a long time before deciding it was time for her to find Jeanne and treat her back again.

  When Maria left Shelly and Val, she almost walked into Ralph and Jeanne, who were huddled together, hugging. They were both frightened, but not immobilized by fear; they had nothing better to do, so they clung to one-another, as if physical proximity would ensure that whatever fate befell them would befall them identically.

  During the course of the morning, they had talked with lasting pleasure about the day before. They were not conscious of doing so, nor was it particularly their intent to do so, but by telling each other the story of the previous day; they were turning it into an oral legend, the kind of thing that stays in conscious memory for a long, long time. And so they were together, keeping their heads together so that they could hear one another, changing positions from time to time as each new position became an old and tired position, always careful of Jeanne’s back.

  Maria was pleased that they seemed to be amusing themselves and passing the time, and that they did not seem to be excessively frightened. Somehow, the optimism of young lovers and their equanimity regarding the world when they are together, was, or should have been, a strength for all the others. But, somehow, the storm was segregating the group back into ones and twos, isolating people in their fears, paralyzing some, mobilizing others.

  Thinking of mobilizing brought to mind that she had not seen James in some time. She looked up to find him bringing two pots of water into the back of the Kitchen Tent hunched over, bent against the wind. The tarpaulin overhead was making loud flapping noises as she touched Jeanne and Ralph reassuringly and moved onward to her husband.

  Having run out of things to do with readjusting the roof of the Kitchen Tent and finding a place to store the outboard motors and their gasoline, Paul had sat down to rest, and that had been his undoing. Ron had moved away with Jim in tow, leaving Paul with his thoughts and fears. Just as on the Fiji Queen after they hit the reef, he had not the initiative to find things to do; instead, he caved in on himself and dwelled in his fear. At one level, his intellect delivering all sorts of exhortations about not letting his emotions overcome him, at another level his emotions running riot through his system, he knew he should be able to swim, but he was drowning anyway. He intensely disliked storms, both wind and heavy rain. He did not want to be out in the rain and he
did not want to hear or feel the wind. So long as he was actively engaged in doing things to help, he was fine, but sitting still, he rapidly became a basket case. Even before Ron had finished wrapping and burying his sketch book, Paul had very quietly slid down off the plastic storage unit he was sitting on, turned it up on its end, and backed up into it “for protection.” His tall frame was bent and curled into a semblance of a tight ball as he sat, inert, in his cave.

  So it was that Roger found him. Roger started talking to him and Paul began to respond. For Roger, there was a lot of remembering about the conversation – he remembered being as withdrawn only a few days ago as Paul now was, and James had helped him by talking and letting him talk. He tried to follow the example. Gradually, as he talked, Paul’s thoughts became more coherent and his will reasserted itself.

  “I just wish I didn’t feel so helpless, so much as if there is nothing I can do to make a difference.”

  “I understand completely. What kinds of things could you or would you do?”

  “I don’t know. But back on the Fiji Queen, when Maria told me what to do, I knew what my job was and I did it. And it kept my mind off of our predicament for hours. I was very productive. And so were others.”

  “Yes. You are frequently the one who steps forward to help Dr. James, I notice.”

  “He must be the smartest person I have ever met. I love helping him.”

  “Well here he is now, coming in out of the rain, looking like a wet kitten. But wait a moment. Maria is going to talk with him. Let them have a few moments together then go ask him how you can help.”

  “Thank you, Roger. You are a great inspiration.”

  “Thanks.”

  After Shelly had washed her face and gone to join Marcella in the kitchen, Val gave Maria a hug of thanks. “Why is it that I could say all of those same things to Shelly and she didn’t listen to me, but when you said them, she listened?”

  “Sometimes, Val, it takes two voices to bring the message home.”

  “OK. I guess I can believe that. I thought maybe she was just ignoring me.”

  “Sometimes, the same words from a person who is NOT your lover can have more impact. Something about not being wrapped in emotions.”

  “Now that really makes sense.”

  “Are you OK?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. I’m going to think about this a little bit and hang out for a bit. Jeanne will need another treatment in an hour or so. This rain is amazing. It is, at the same time, the most frightening and the most awesome thing that has happened here. I am actually enjoying it, even though it is a terrible inconvenience. I don’t suppose we’ll be going snorkeling today.”

  “I think not. Take care.”

  “You bet. See ya.”

  Val followed Shelly, sitting for a while, observing Shelly, deciding she was going to be OK, then thinking about a treatment for Jeanne. Cloths were close at hand, but the sea water was in two buckets in the infirmary tent, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to venture out through the rain and wind to the infirmary to get it. She was looking around for an alternative when she saw Dr. James bringing the pots from the infirmary. Maria got to him first, and they seemed to want a few moments together. She watched them hug, then separate as Paul walked up; Dr. James and Paul left the Kitchen Tent to do something outside.

  But the water was there. Where was Jeanne? Val looked around found Jeanne nearby, with Ralph. Val went over to them to tell them that it was time for a treatment.

  “Val, could we do the treatment here?”

  “I was planning to stay in the Kitchen Tent.”

  “No, I mean exactly here, so I don’t have to move? Maybe Ralph can find something for me to lie on and you can bring the water and give me my treatment right here.”

  It did not seem an unreasonable request. Jeanne and Ralph had actually been sitting on a folded blanket, so all they had to do was get up and spread it out to make a place for Jeanne to lie down. Val fetched one of the pots of sea water and a couple cloths and began the treatment. Thinking Jeanne’s back was doing really well, but remembering the rebuke that Dr. James had delivered that morning, Val looked closely at the burns and could see some minor signs of inflammation on a couple of them, and areas where there were cracks in the epithelium that was forming. She revised her estimate of how well Jeanne was doing. She kept the soaks going for over half an hour, until Marcella’s announcement of lunch stirred them all to action.

  Maria greeted James with a hug and “I missed you.”

  “You seemed to have things reasonably well covered here, and someone needed to check on the rest of the camp. Things are getting shaken around pretty badly by the wind. I took down several of the lean-tos because they were in danger of the wind carrying them away. Then I found the water for Jeanne’s treatment and thought I should bring it here.”

  “Everyone is pretty frightened.”

  “Yes, it’s a lot of wind.”

  “Do you think it has gotten stronger since we began hunkering down?”

  “Yes. Being naked does funny things to you. I am feeling the wind in my genitals. It’s not erotic or sensual or anything like that – I think it is just that I am not accustomed to feel wind with my genitals, so they are very sensitive.”

  Maria paused to think. “Yes, I see what you mean. Wind in pubic hair is an unusual feeling – when it is just a little, it is pleasant, but this is a whole lot, and somehow it is not pleasant at all.”

  “Yes. And I have more things hanging out there to experience the wind than you do.”

  “And I have a place for those things of yours to hide out if they feel too exposed.”

  “Thank you for the offer, but may I take a rain check? I don’t think this is the time or place for that, and it seems to me there is more for me to do.”

  “True. Maybe you should stay here for a bit – not go out again for a while.”

  “Or maybe I shouldn’t go alone. On the other hand, it must be getting close to lunch time.”

  “Probably an hour. I sent Michelle to help Marcella. I think they will steady one another. I predict there won’t be a whole lot of cooking for lunch today.”

  “No. I would also guess not. But an hour gives me some time to do a bit more work. Who’s doing well enough to be able to help?”

  “I saw Roger talking with Paul. I suspect Paul needs to be doing something to keep his mind away from his peril.”

  “Like someone else you know.”

  “Yes, both of us, you know.”

  James held her tightly in his arms. There was a part of him that wanted to sit down like Ralph and Jeanne and just hug and tell love stories. He and Maria had done their share of that over the years. Those were the best love stories, and telling them to one another was the best of times. But action was called for right now – and he knew that he was expected by all to be the one who set the example. They kissed, then separated.

  Paul was just behind Maria’s shoulder, having walked up while she and James were hugging: “James, is there something I can do to help?”

  “Come along.” He gave Maria a wink as he turned to head back out into the stand of palm trees. Maria turned to see if there was anything else she could do.

  Marcella experienced a faint shimmer of memory indicating that she had another priority – fixing lunch. But tending the fire was so important. She settled back into fire-tending mode and the lunch priority faded again into obscurity.

  Then Shelly came to her. “How can I help?”

  “I don’t know.” Marcella was still absorbed in the tending of the fire and had no thought for anything else. And she didn’t see any way Shelly could help with tending the fire.

  “Have you got a plan for lunch?”

  “Ah, ma foie! No, I have no plan for lunch. What would you advise?”

  “When I was little, sometimes my mother, when she didn’t want to cook, would just open cans of vegetables, drain them, mix them and put salad
dressing on them and call it a meal. Maybe we could do that today for lunch. We don’t want to cook, do we?”

  “Shelly, this is perfect! Will you start selecting cans? Bring them to me and we shall discuss them.”

  “OK. Let me see what I can find.”

 

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