by Bobby Akart
Jill assisted Beth as she eased her way into the bathtub so that the colder-than-usual water wouldn’t be too much of a shock to her body. While Beth got acclimated and began to wash herself in the shallow water, Jill retrieved an ironstone washbasin that was used as décor in her bedroom. She wiped it out with a clean towel and then poured warm water into it. She closed the toilet seat and set the basin on top so Beth could watch.
Once again, she unwrapped Beth’s baby girl. She slowly set her into basin of shallow, warm water and lovingly wiped her off with a soft, Gerber washcloth that was part of Beth’s Christmas presents. The newborn wiggled and kicked, seemingly enjoying the warm, gentle touch. Or perhaps she was glad to get the dried blood off her pristine pink skin.
Jill finished her niece’s first baby sponge bath. Afterwards, she wrapped her in a pink, plush hoodie-blanket combination that matched the robe she’d bought for Beth. She carefully placed the content baby on a pile of pillows and blankets near the fire, carefully positioning her so she couldn’t roll over and suffocate. She then turned her attention to her sister.
While Beth washed her body, Jill washed her hair. She tilted Beth’s head back and slowly poured the warm water over her long hair until it was wet. She lathered it with Pantene and gave her a gentle head massage as she worked the shampoo in. Without making it obvious, Jill lovingly removed bits of dried blood off her head and shoulders. After a rinse, she repeated the shampooing process until both sisters were satisfied that Beth could declare herself to be a new woman.
Finally, it was time for her to wrap herself in the plush robe Jill had purchased as her Christmas present. Jill had hung it over a chair by the fire to warm it. Beth had never been so pampered in her life. During those fifteen very intimate, touching minutes, the two barely said a word. They didn’t shed tears. They didn’t allow themselves to express worry over their husbands. It was all about Beth and her baby girl.
Jill helped her sister to bed. She propped her up slightly against the headboard and rested her baby on her chest. She tucked them in. As she left the bedroom, she promised to look in later to make sure the fire was burning and the candles stayed lit.
It was time for mother and daughter to bond with one another in comfort and safety.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Monday, Christmas Eve
Memphis, Tennessee
The rising floodwaters that chased them across downtown Memphis, threatening to kill them, were also responsible for saving their lives. As the searing hot fire engulfed the ceiling of the ground floor, it began to heat the wood-plank upper floor. The fire began in the middle and immediately began to spread in all directions. With the guys lying unconscious against the wall, they were as far away from the fire’s flashpoint as possible. As the fire continued, the floodwaters rose and doused it from below, leaving charred remains except for ten feet of flooring where the men were.
Jack was the first to recover from his semiconscious state. He’d been dreaming, imagining a big dog smothering him in wet, slobbery kisses. What should have been a happy dream was off somehow.
They were in their backyard overlooking the lake. The kids were playing. Jill was setting the picnic table, and he was supposed to be cooking the burgers and hot dogs. Instead, he was lying on his side with this overly friendly pup hovering over him, licking his face, while his pants smoldered from catching fire.
He began to come out of his stupor, and his dreamlike visions turned to reality. The rising water had breached the huge hole in the floor and was now washing up against them. His eyes opened wide in surprise, and he tried to force himself upright.
That was when he discovered the burns on his right leg. The flames had generated shooting embers from the old, dry wood. Some of them had landed on Jack’s leg and caught his pants on fire. His flesh had burned on his shin from the top of his ankle to just below his kneecap, the thinnest and most sensitive skin on his leg.
“Arrrgh!” he screamed as his mind woke up and the burnt skin sent signals to it. He reached for his leg to see how bad it was burned, and then the post-concussion trauma to his head revealed itself. He lifted both of his hands to his temples and then his scalp in search of blood. The crown of his skull had a huge knot on it and was very tender to the touch.
Jack tried to get his bearings in order to remember what had happened. His vision was blurry as he looked around the dark room. The early morning sunshine showed through a hole in the ceiling created by the shooting flames propelled by the pressure of the natural gas line. Even that little bit of light hurt his head.
“Tony,” he muttered at first. Then he got serious. “Tony!”
Jack fought the pain and pulled himself up using the windowsill as a crutch. He didn’t care that his hands were cut on a sliver of glass. That was the least of his worries at the moment.
He felt his way along the wall, moving slowly to mind his footing. Most of the floor was missing, and the area where he walked seemed spongy.
He inched along until his left foot kicked Tony’s body. Groaning in pain, he dropped to one knee and then the other. He blindly felt around Tony’s upper body until he found his face. Jack gently touched his neck to feel for a pulse. Then he reached over his body and scooped some water in his hands. He carefully wiped Tony’s face and neck with the cool water to revive him.
It worked. Like Jack, he awoke with a start, shooting straight up until he was sitting upright. Then his head introduced him to the battering it took.
“Holy shit, that hurts.”
“I’ve got one, too,” said Jack. “How are your arms and legs?”
Tony wiggled them and then rolled his neck around on his shoulders. “All there. You?”
“I’ve got a helluva burn on my right leg. At some point my pants leg caught on fire.”
Tony tried to help despite the pain he was in. “Let me take a look.”
“Not now. We don’t have time. We only have about eight or ten feet of floor, and the water’s coming in. It rose at least four feet while we were knocked out.”
“What time is it?” asked Tony.
Jack tapped the glass face of his iWatch. “Don’t know. Batteries died at some point on my watch and the cell phone. Right after dawn, maybe.”
Tony stood and glanced out the window. He looked upward to see if there was a higher point in the building to evade the water. The limited light didn’t offer him much of a view. He turned to Jack.
“Can you swim? How bad is it?”
“It’s the shinbone.”
“Ouch,” said Tony. “You couldn’t have picked a worse area. Can you bend your leg? At least enough to swim?”
“I don’t have a choice,” Jack answered truthfully. “We’ve gotta get out of here because I don’t trust this floor, or the ceiling either. Maybe the cool water will help relieve the pain.”
Tony bent over and helped Jack to his feet. He turned to the glass window and carefully broke out the jagged, broken panes that were sticking up from the windowsill.
“We’ll head toward the hospitals and get you treated.”
“They’re in low-lying areas and are probably flooded. If we keep going due east, the ground rises. There are some retail stores and offices farther out on Union Avenue. If we can keep going before the river floods more, I’ll be all right.”
Tony was skeptical, but Jack was right. They had no choice. “After you. Age before beauty, right?”
Jack laughed. “Did I mention part of your hair singed?”
“Shit! Really?”
Despite the pain, Jack crawled through the window and dove into the dark water. His leg bristled at the first contact with the cold water, and then it seemed to respond. The pain subsided, and his swimming pace picked up. The guys were back to lily-pad hopping.
Chapter Sixty
Monday, Christmas Eve
Memphis, Tennessee
For hours, the guys made their way from building to building along Union Avenue. As predicted, the hospitals and medical
centers were either flooded with water or flooded with people whose injuries were far worse than Jack’s. The Methodist University Hospital was able to see patients on their second floor, but Jack was told it might be many hours before he could be treated.
The guys persevered, pushing through the pain until, gradually, the water levels dropped to five feet deep. They were able to alternate between swimming and wading through the water until soon it was only waist deep.
It was around one o’clock on Christmas Eve when they came across a Walgreens drugstore. The building was still standing, and remarkably the concrete walls appeared to be stable. The glass-pane double doors were shattered, which allowed them access to enter.
Tony asked Jack’s opinion. “Everything is probably floating around in there. We can fumble through the store until we locate some burn gel, Neosporin, and some type of bandages. It’s worth a try, right?”
Jack nodded and started to hobble toward the door when three young males darted out of the building with their shirts pulled up to their chests. The long-sleeve shirts resembled a kangaroo’s pouch. Only, their pouches were full of prescription drug bottles.
They brushed past Jack, causing him to lose his balance. Pain rushed through his leg, causing him to get angry. He almost yelled at the men but caught himself. They’ve got their job to do, and we’ve got ours.
“Okay. No problem, gentlemen. There’s plenty for everybody, right?”
One of the men glanced back at him and scowled. Then they scurried off in different directions with their loot.
“Let me go in first, Jack. And I’ll do the talking if necessary. Okay?”
“Be my guest,” said Jack, still perturbed at the men’s behavior.
He gestured for Tony to enter the doors. They had to duck under the aluminum push bar that crossed the center windowless frame. Once inside, they recognized the daunting task ahead of them. Thousands of products once perfectly arranged on the store’s shelves were now floating on top of the water like the last remaining Cheerios in a half-full bowl of milk.
The guys stopped for a moment and considered abandoning their quest. Jack’s leg began to throb, and he thought about the bacteria from the water easing into his wound. He decided to begin the search.
“Let’s start near the first aid products. Maybe the stuff didn’t float far. Remember, we need gauze, Neosporin, and any kind of burn-relief gel. I know that’s a long shot. If we can’t find that, we’ll grab a couple of beers out of the refrigerators if there are any left.”
The guys laughed and began the search. Forty-five minutes and half a dozen more looters later, Jack and Tony emerged from Walgreens with several tubes of Polysporin ointment, two large boxes of gauze pads, and a couple of rolls of Kinesio tape generally used to protect athletes from exacerbating their muscle injuries. Jack thought it would hold the gauze in place while keeping pressure on his wound to reduce bleeding.
Outside, they tore the lower half of Jack’s pants leg off. They cleaned and dressed the wound and protected it with the gauze bandages. The tightness of the Kinesio tape made Jack’s leg stiff, so he had to hobble as he walked. The pressure bandage did prevent swelling and bleeding, and eased the pain somewhat. The forty-ounce bottle of Olde English 800 malt liquor helped, too.
By the time they’d made their way east on Union Avenue for another mile, they were in better spirits and ready to get home. Then they hit a lucky break.
Outdoors Inc. was a local business founded in 1974 when two avid paddlers and outdoor enthusiasts joined forces to sell outdoor equipment and apparel for a variety of activities. Jack was a regular customer of their location in Cordova but had never visited this store until now.
When they came upon the small nondescript building, the walls were still standing, but like so many other storefronts, the windows were shattered. The floodwaters had only reached the sidewalk entryway adjoining the parking lot, but had not yet entered the store. To the left of the store’s building was a rack containing five brightly colored canoes wrapped around and around with chain. A padlock secured it to the frame of the rack.
Tony pointed at the canoes as they approached the largest of the plate-glass windows. “How much would we have paid for one of those things yesterday?”
“All the gold in Zurich?” replied Jack, making reference to Tony’s shrewd, if not lucky, investment move on their behalf. He pointed to his right. Adjacent to Outdoors Inc. was their sister store that sold Cannondale bicycles. “So what’s a bicycle worth to ya? It’ll make the last dozen miles go a lot faster.”
Tony turned to the west. The sun would be setting over the Memphis skyline, which now smoldered with black smoke coupled with the occasional flames of fire dancing upward.
“I’ll leave them my credit card,” he said with a laugh. “Let’s go shopping.” He led the way through the window, gingerly stepping over the jagged glass protruding up from the aluminum frame.
Jack joined him and marveled at what he saw. “Stuff’s knocked around, but it looks intact.”
Tony headed toward the clothing racks, which had spilled their contents onto the floor. “I never understood why looters went straight for the drugs, alcohol, and especially the electronics. Do they honestly think those big screens are gonna do them any good right now?”
Jack hobbled forward and leaned down to pick up a pair of bicyclist leggings. “No, but these will. If we’re gonna ride through this forty-degree cold air, let’s do it in these Gore-Tex, um, tights?”
Tony laughed. He threw a snug-fitting cycling jersey at Jack. The pullover jersey featured screen art that read “never underestimate an old man with a bicycle.”
“Here. This suits you.”
Jack caught the jersey and held it up to read the inscription. “Very funny. I was thinking more about this.” He showed Tony a fleece hoodie.
Tony gave him a thumbs-up and moved deeper into the store. “Jackpot! Pardon the pun. Hey, we’ve got shoes. Hiking. Biking. Running. You name it. Socks, too.”
Jack let out a hoot and stiff-legged his way to the back of the store. The guys were in great spirits as they picked out their outfits and changed clothes. They resembled a couple of stylish city boys headed to Vail, Colorado, for a weekend.
Next, they moved into the darkened space where the bicycles were displayed. Neither of them had ridden a bicycle in many years. The Cannondale line offered a variety of bicycles, but the guys both chose mountain bikes. The wide tires and additional suspension would be useful if they found roads blocked or flooded. Before they left, they loaded backpacks with camping gear, first aid kits, and a tire pump in case they ran across a problem on the way home.
It was after four by the time they left the store. And in those two hours, the floodwaters had risen another foot and began to wash throughout the interior.
Chapter Sixty-One
Monday, Christmas Eve
East Memphis, Tennessee
The guys were riding east on Walnut Grove Road toward Cordova. They’d just passed the Galloway Golf Course on their right when they entered a stretch flanked by stately homes with once-magnificent mature oak trees lining the four-lane street. Many of them had been uprooted and thrown in all directions, and parts of the road had buckled. They soon found themselves walking their bikes through the trees, even carrying them at times to make their way over the massive trunks.
Then, remarkably, the quarter mile of Walnut Grove Road that looked like a war zone suddenly turned into a pristine street that appeared untouched. The only thing out of the ordinary from any other sunny day was the throngs of people milling about in front of the St. Mary’s Episcopal Church.
The guys walked their bikes through the crowds of men, women, and children—refugees who had traveled on foot, seeking help. The scene in front of Second Baptist Church and Independent Presbyterian down the street was similar. Hundreds if not thousands of people, faces filled with despair, their bodies bloodied and battered, were desperately begging for assistance.
&
nbsp; Each of the churches deployed a small army of volunteers and parishioners. They were sorting people according to their immediate needs and then guiding them onto the church property. Those seeking medical attention were given first priority. Single mothers with young children were given their own area away from the rest. The newly homeless residents were told their options for local shelters that hadn’t been destroyed by the earthquake.
The hungry? Well, the hungry were promised that the church would do what it could for them. Everyone was hungry. As they politely pushed their way through the crowd, they listened to people exchange their stories.
Some had watched their homes and businesses crumble before their eyes. Others were in a state of shock over the loss of loved ones. There were tales of flooding in places that had never flooded before. Some had seen strange lights and weird flames shooting out of the ground. The fires frightened many because they were out of control. Most questioned the lack of notice for either of the earthquakes.
How could they not know?
Why weren’t we warned?
Where is the government to help us?
As they walked through, Jack scanned the crowd for any familiar faces. Not that he wished something had befallen them. Secretly, without admitting it to Tony, he was looking for his family. After what he’d seen and what they’d been through, he didn’t care if their home was still standing. As long as Jill and the kids were safe, that was all that mattered.
They passed Mullins United Methodist, and a quarter mile later, the foot traffic began to dissipate. The combination of riding and walking helped Jack work out the soreness resulting from the explosion at the auto repair building the night before. Also, this was an area he was familiar with, and as a result, his mind was beginning to become reinvigorated. Home was practically in sight. They began riding again with renewed energy until they ran into another obstacle that slowed their progress.