The problem was, only the snow was gone.
The ice was still there.
Getting rid of surface ice in a land where the temperature never goes above freezing can be a damned hard thing to do.
Salt helps a little, but not much. Chemical compounds like urea or carbamide help a little, but not much. Sand makes ice a bit less slippery, but not much.
Even heat only melts the ice temporarily.
A year before, one of the attorneys came up with a brilliant solution for the ice problem.
Or so he thought.
He brought in a blowtorch and used it to melt the ice in the cleared space in front of the building.
The way he envisioned it, the ice would turn to water, which would roll underneath the snow pack and gather in the curb, where it would refreeze away from pedestrian traffic. Beneath the snow pack, it would be out of the way.
Only it didn’t work.
The ice turned into water, and the heavy salt and sand and urea atop the ice all sank to the bottom.
Almost as soon as the captain melted one spot and moved on to the next, the water began to crystallize into ice again.
When he finished the ice was still there, but was now on top of all the things they’d applied to make it less slippery.
It was more slippery than ever.
The colonel who took Tim Wilcox’s place as base commander told the man to save his brilliant ideas for jury deliberations. And to let the roads and grounds people take care of ice abatement and removal.
On this particular day, that same captain and another attorney were standing beneath the building’s overhang smoking very old, very stale cigarettes, watching Hannah approach.
They were about to call out a “Good morning” to this very attractive woman they’d never seen before who just appeared on the horizon and walked into their midst.
But they didn’t get it out before Hannah slipped on the ice.
Both feet came out from under her and she fell right on her rear end. The heavy parka she was wearing was all that saved her from breaking her tailbone.
“Oh, damn it!” she exclaimed, then immediately covered her mouth.
The two attorneys rushed to her aid, embarrassing her for her choice of words.
Still, she’d said much worse on other occasions.
“Excuse my language,” she said as the pair helped her to her feet.
“No problem at all,” the taller of the two men said. “I’d have said the same thing myself. Sometimes that’s the only word that applies.”
They escorted her up the steps and into the building, one on each side of her and supporting her elbows, lest she slip again.
As it turned out, they were much more experienced than she was when it came to walking across a solid sheet of ice.
Inside the building it was warm enough for her to doff the parka’s hood.
“Wow,” the taller captain said, obviously smitten by Hannah’s beauty.
It was but one word, but she understood its meaning.
She flushed.
She certainly hadn’t walked all this way in treacherous conditions to flirt with anyone or dazzle them with her beauty.
But a woman in her mid thirties begins to doubt her ability to turn heads, make jaws drop and make men drool.
And compliments are appreciated by any woman of any age.
It was nice to know she still had it.
-37-
As they were introducing themselves a door opened down the hallway. A head came out and called out to the tall man.
“Captain Olson, they’re ready for you.”
He got a disgusted, or maybe just disappointed, look upon his face, nodded to Hannah and headed down the hall.
The shorter man called behind him, “Sorry, Sid. Duty calls…”
Then he turned to Hannah and said, “I apologize on Sid’s behalf. He never met a beautiful woman he didn’t want to capture and carry away to keep as his very own.”
Hannah flushed again and said, “Well, thank you. I guess. I think there was a compliment buried in there somewhere. Do you welcome all strangers this way?”
“Again, I apologize, this time for myself. It’s just that… well, we don’t see a lot of fresh faces around here. My name is Captain Ethan Wagner.”
He extended his hand to her, a nonverbal cue which meant, in effect, the time to flirt had come to an end. Now it was time for business.
“I work in the Staff Judge Advocate’s office,” he continued. “How can I help you today?”
She shook his hand and answered, “My name is Hannah Snyder. I’m here to see a Captain David Wright.”
“Ah, my esteemed enemy…”
“Excuse me?”
“Not really. Actually he’s one of my best friends. Right now we’re adversaries, though, because we’ll soon be opposing counsels in a court martial. The office I work in, you see, plays the role as prosecutor. David works for the Area Defense Counsel. The defense attorney, if you will.”
“Is he here?”
“I haven’t seen him today, but he tends to come in earlier than I do. He’s probably in his office. Follow me.”
As they walked down the corridor he explained, “The ADC used to have their own building across the base. They just recently moved in here because we’re very critically manned. Both offices have about half the administrative staff we need, so we thought it would benefit everyone to consolidate them.
“Now our typists might be preparing motions for the prosecution one day and the defense the next. But they’re all professionals and don’t share secrets with either side. It’s actually working out quite well.”
“The court martial you mentioned… would that be the court martial of Colonel Wilcox and Colonel Medley?”
“Yes… well, no. Not exactly. It would have been, but Colonel Wilcox is dead. Now Colonel Medley will face justice on his own.”
Hannah stopped short.
She turned to face him as the corridor started to spin around her. She suddenly felt very nauseous.
“Colonel Wilcox is dead? How?”
“He hung himself in his jail cell a few weeks ago. Are you okay, Ms. Snyder?”
But she didn’t hear the question.
She fainted and was falling to the floor, for the second time in ten minutes.
One of the very best places in the world to pass out, or to have a medical problem of any kind, is on a United States military installation.
The military is very good about providing its members basic first aid and medical training.
It’s not that military members are any more prone than anyone else to have medical emergencies.
No, it’s because on a battlefield, or on an air base which could come under enemy attack at any time, one can never tell who might be called upon to treat a wounded soldier.
For any injury or medical emergency, it’s often the critical first few minutes which determine whether the patient lives or dies.
On a battlefield, if a soldier steps on a land mine and has his legs blown to bits, those nearest to him might not be a medic, and almost certainly wouldn’t be a doctor or nurse.
Yet they’d be tasked not only to determine the best course of treatment. They’d have to take that action, quickly and correctly, or their buddy would bleed to death within a minute.
Every member of the U.S. armed forces is taught how to quickly and effectively treat bleeding wounds. Where the pressure points are and how to use them to stem the flow of blood. How to apply direct pressure to stop the bleeding. When and where to apply tourniquets and (perhaps more importantly) where and when not to apply them.
They’re also taught other useful things. How to splint a broken limb. How to treat for a concussion or shock. Or burns or chemical or poison gas exposure.
And a hundred other things.
Granted, some of these things, like buried mine injuries and radiation poisoning, don’t translate well to the civilian sector. One seldom walks into a hospital
emergency room and explains that his arm got blown off by a hand grenade.
But a lot of other medical emergencies are treated the same way in a war zone as they’d be on the streets of any city in the world.
That’s why a military member thousands of miles away from the nearest battlefield can provide basic care for a heart attack victim, or someone choking, or someone who’s been stabbed or shot.
Or, in this case, who has passed out with no apparent reason why.
Hannah passed out and collapsed onto a carpeted floor. She didn’t hit her head, so the young captain didn’t have to worry about a possible concussion. Still, he’d consider all other possible problems until he could get her awake and talking again.
“Need some help out here,” he yelled in a loud and commanding voice.
Something else about the American military: it doesn’t matter who they are or what they’re doing. Any military member, when hearing the word “help,” will come running.
Up and down the corridor doors opened and people poured out.
-38-
“Get her some blankets and something to elevate her feet,” Captain Wagner barked.
She might be in shock and she might not be. But treating her for shock didn’t harm her if she wasn’t. And if she was it could save her life.
Within seconds her feet were elevated, a rolled blanket tucked beneath them to keep them that way.
Two other blankets were placed across the core of her body, but one arm was left uncovered.
“Call an ambulance and get them rolling, just in case we need them.”
“Already done, sir. They’re on their way.”
“Good. Get me an ammonia tab.”
“Right away, sir.”
He found her carotid artery and checked her pulse. It was a bit fast, but wasn’t racing.
Her chest was rising and falling.
A sudden loss of oxygen to the brain is often the cause of someone passing out. Yet she had no trouble speaking and didn’t seem short of breath before she went down.
He assumed that oxygen wasn’t the problem, but wouldn’t rule it out until the hospital could test her oxygen level.
He tenderly raised one eyelid at a time. Her pupils were uniform and appropriately dilated given the hallway’s dim light.
She had no visible signs of trauma to her head. And he’d seen her fall both times. She never hit her head in either fall.
He ruled out a concussion or head injury.
The ammonia tab arrived.
In the civilian world smelling salts are used to irritate a fainting victim back into consciousness. The salts burn the nostrils and shock the victim awake again.
What the military calls an “ammonia tab” and what civilians call “smelling salts” are the same thing.
He broke the glass capsule inside the tab to activate it, and waved it back and forth beneath Hannah’s nostrils.
First she winced.
Then she coughed.
Then she came to.
And started to cry.
It was the last thing which confused Captain Wagner. For it was the one thing he didn’t expect.
She sat up, even though he told her to stay down and wait for the ambulance.
Now she was sobbing hysterically.
He didn’t know what to do. His rudimentary medical training didn’t cover this.
So he did what came naturally.
He did what any human would do for any other human who was in distress.
He wrapped his arms around her and rocked her back and forth, trying to soothe her until he could find out what her tears were all about.
She tried to speak a couple of times but found it difficult to talk.
The captain began to realize this might not be a medical emergency, but rather an emotional one.
Was she related to one of the colonels, maybe? A daughter, perhaps? But no. That couldn’t be. He knew the base command post and the defense team would keep in touch with family members and keep them abreast of the progress of the case.
She tried to stand, but he very tenderly held her into place.
“Don’t get up just yet,” he said. “The medics are on their way. I want them to check your blood pressure and oxygen levels before you stand up. I don’t want you to fall again.”
The tone of his voice wasn’t demanding, but rather the pleading voice of a concerned friend.
Word got out that there was a woman there to see Captain Wright, and who’d passed out in the first floor corridor.
Someone went up the stairs to the second floor, where Wright’s office was located, and told him.
He appeared at her side and went to one knee.
Although the two had never met, they’d talked on ham radio about the case.
And he was expecting her.
She’d told him a few months before she would come to San Antonio. In the state the world was in, it would have been easy to discount her. But then again, he got the distinct impression she was a strong and determined woman. One who’d find a way.
One who wouldn’t let a little thing like a worldwide four foot high blanket of snow keep her away.
“Are you Hannah?”
She looked up at him, her face streaked with tears, and managed a slight nod.
“I’m David Wright. Are you here to see me?”
Another nod.
“I’m right here, Hannah. I won’t go anywhere until the medics get here to check you out. If they say you’re good to go, I’ll help you to my office and we can talk. If they take you to the hospital I’ll ride with them and we’ll talk there. Okay?”
She nodded again, this time with just a bit more conviction.
At that moment the wail of an ambulance could be heard.
It had only been six minutes since the call went in, but seemed like forever.
But then again, one could argue that six minutes is a long time for an ambulance to travel a mere three blocks.
One could blame that on Cupid 23.
For nothing moves fast on a blanket of ice.
-39-
Frank Woodard knew better. All his life he’d been a rather pessimistic kind of guy.
But he let himself get his hopes up, even though he knew that doing so was a bad idea. Almost every time in his life he’d allowed himself to express a bit of optimism, his hopes had come crashing down. He’d been crushed by circumstance.
And each time he’d said, “Never again.”
Each time it happened he made a pact with himself: Don’t ever let yourself get your hopes up again, you big dummy. It’s not worth it when your hopes come crashing down and bury you in rubble. Just. Don’t. Do. It.
And then, of course, he’d repeat the process.
At least he had someone to blame this time.
Josie, darned her pretty little self, was the exact opposite of Frank in that she was the eternal optimist.
Each morning when they awakened Frank spat and sputtered about how badly his joints ached. How sore his muscles were. How many times he’d had to get up to use the bathroom.
Josie smiled and remarked how great it was to be alive. How lucky they were to have each other. All the wondrous new things they were sure to encounter that day, and all the adventures they could embark on.
Eddie?
He was somewhere between the two. He got up and didn’t say much, but wandered off in search of something to do, someone to annoy. If he couldn’t find something which interested him that day, he’d create something.
Back at the distribution center he might stack boxes as high as he could, just to watch them come crashing back down. Or he might chase a rat for hours, trying to catch it so he could make friends with it and have a pet.
It’s easy to lose yourself in somebody else’s world when your mind lives on its own little planet.
As they pulled away from downtown Lubbock and made their way through the streets of a city which had lost eighty percent of its population but was still a pocket of act
ivity, Josie wondered aloud about the road conditions ahead.
“This is nice, driving on roads that somebody else already cleared for us. Do you think they cleared the highway all the way to Junction, Frank?”
“Are you kidding? You heard what Ronnie said. These were Lubbock city employees. They’re like city employees everywhere. They only do what they have to do, they draw their paychecks, and they go home. They lean back in their recliners, prop up their feet, pop open a beer and watch a ball game.
“And it never dawns on them that they could have done just a little bit more than was asked of them.”
She looked at him, from the passenger seat, the hint of a smile on her lips.
“My, we’re even grumpier than usual today, aren’t we?”
“Well, it’s true. You can’t argue with the truth. And contrary to what you may think, life isn’t all sunshine and puppy dogs.”
Eddie, in the back seat daydreaming, managed to catch a single word of the conversation in front of him as it floated past his ear.
“A puppy? Where? Did you see a puppy, Mister Frank?”
Frank bowed his head slightly and placed his thumb and forefinger on both temples.
He looked just like Archie Bunker when Edith said something he had issue with.
He sounded just like him too.
“Oh, geez…”
Eddie continued, “Can we get a puppy when we get where we’re going, Mister Frank? Can we? On account of I know where to get them. On account of Josie took me to a pet store at the mall one time…”
He went on. He always did. Eddie had a habit of rambling on and on until someone interrupted him and stopped him.
But sometimes it was better just to let him ramble until he wore himself out.
Josie and Frank resumed their own conversation.
“Actually, there were a couple of dogs in the mine when I left. A couple of cats too. One of the cats was pregnant when I left. I reckon there’s a passel of kittens now too.”
She laughed.
“I love the way you talk, honey. Passel of kittens and you reckon this or that. You sound like a cowboy from another era, stuck in the wrong time and place.”
“Well, number one, I talk that way to amuse you, because I love the sight of your smile and the sound of your laughter. And B, I like this time and place. Because this is where you’re at. And it’s my mission in life to be by your side forever and a day.”
A Perilous Journey Page 12