by Annie Katz
Lila said, "I want to trust him. We had a good talk yesterday about safety and considering other people's feelings. I'm choosing to give him another chance to prove he is worthy of my trust. We'll wait until six."
We all looked at the clock. Nearly two hours? How could we stand it?
"Sometimes our fears distort reality," Lila said, seeming to read my mind. "We've taken a few facts and jumped to a conclusion that may be false."
Jamie and I stood looking at her. We didn't argue, but we took little comfort from her logic. She seemed to read our minds again and smiled at us.
"Okay," Lila said, bringing us in to sit on the couch with her. She had her little tide table booklet. "If he's in the cove, the high tide will be about seven tonight and the next low tide will be about one thirty in the morning. That one won't be nearly as low as the one this afternoon, though, so it would be impossible to get through until tomorrow around one, if then. If he's not here by six, I'm calling Rescue. I don't want him on that cliff all night. They'll still have three hours of daylight, and they can get a coast guard helicopter here in thirty minutes. He'll be home tonight."
We had two hours to live with that decision. There was nothing to do but pray and wait.
I walked to the cliff to search for any sign of him, but the tide had already covered everything, so the sand was wet and clear. Waves crashed against the cliff face, and it was hard to believe we'd walked in only the day before. Maybe it was called Saint Ann's because it was a miracle to get in and out alive.
Jamie sat on the porch so he could wait for Mark. Lila called everyone she knew in the village to see if they'd seen Mark. No one had. Mostly, we waited, trying not to think about caves.
For Jamie, not thinking about caves involved being as close to his seal pup as he could without disturbing her. We could see him on the beach, lying down facing her, another stranded little animal waiting for family.
We had to keep the phone line free, so I couldn't call my mom or Shelly, which would have helped pass the time and relieve some of my fears. I was too antsy to sit down to write in my journal or read my dictionary, so I went to see what needed doing in the kitchen. There was a package of chicken breasts I'd taken out of the freezer that morning. The pieces were thawed almost enough for frying.
Ever since Lila had taught me to cook, I enjoyed how working in the kitchen took my mind off other things. I had to concentrate on preparing everything in the right order, and of course when you're working with a skillet of hot oil, you can't let your mind wander for a second.
I cut each breast into five strips and soaked them in cold water until they were mostly thawed. Then I rolled them in whole-wheat flour seasoned with lots of paprika and smaller amounts of other spices that called to me from Lila's spice drawer. I fried the coated strips in hot oil until they were crispy and brown. It only took a few minutes for them to be tender and completely cooked.
I used tongs to arrange them on wire cooling racks so they could drip and not get soggy. When they were still steamy, I salted them well with sea salt. Then I made a big bowl of fresh fruit salad using pineapple, apples, oranges, bananas, raspberries, green grapes, and miniature marshmallows. While I sliced the fruit, I imagined us sitting at the kitchen table eating while we watched the sun set over the ocean. My family.
I covered the salad bowl with plastic wrap and put it in the fridge. I figured when Jamie felt like eating anything, he'd go for chicken strips. Mark too.
Lila played her piano. Her music comforted me while I worked in the kitchen. She started with the old hymns like "In the Garden" and "Fill My Cup, Lord," and then she went to somber classical pieces that sounded difficult to play. Next she played lighter pieces that felt like parties and dancing, and those filled me with hope.
By that time I had dinner ready and the table set. The kitchen was clean except for the oil, which was still too hot to pour out of the skillet. I brought a big glass of cool water to Lila and put it on the stand beside her piano. She smiled but didn't interrupt her music.
I drank a glass of water myself and then took one down to Jamie on the beach. It was five-thirty, and I wanted to let him know the time. He was still lying down staring at his pup, and she was sleeping. She did look fatter, so maybe she and her mom would make it okay.
I quietly sat on the sand beside Jamie, and he sat up and drank some of the water I brought.
"I should have stopped him," he said.
"I should have stopped him," I said.
"We couldn't have stopped him."
"You're right."
Jamie poured the rest of his water on the beach like a blessing, then gave me the glass and stood up. I stood too.
He made prayer hands and said Namaste to his seal and to Mother Ocean and to me, and then to both of the guards in their chairs, who had been watching him with his seal pup. Then we went back upstairs to worry the clock together.
When we walked in, Lila looked up so quickly she lost her place in the song she was playing. We were all hoping Mark would come in that door before six. There was still time for us to be worried and upset about nothing.
"I know," Lila said, and she got out her book of best children's show tunes and played rousing versions of some of our movie favorites, like "When You Wish Upon a Star" and "Bare Necessities." We sang as cheerfully as we could. But even "Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo" and "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" didn't bring Mark back home on time. Lila closed the dust cover over the piano keys and sat with us on the couch.
Dark clouds moved in from the horizon, blocking the sun. Lila had me fetch candles from the pantry and we lit them and arranged them on the fireplace mantel.
Then we sat and joined hands and prayed with all our hearts for Mark to be safe and for all beings to be safe and happy. We continued praying silently, each summoning our magic to bring Mark safely home. I prayed for Janice and Shelly and for Terry and Rich. I prayed for Mark, my impatient brother, and for Jamie, the compassionate one. And finally I prayed for David, my beautiful father who never gave himself a chance to grow up. Tears ran down my face and fell in my lap before I realized I was crying.
Lila gave Mark fifteen more minutes then called the coast guard rescue number. Their station was just down the coast from us, and Lila knew most of the guys because she cut their hair.
Steve was on duty. He knew Lila and had met Mark the summer before, so he knew this was a serious call. Lila told him everything, including how he'd made us wait the day before while he was in a cave and my big wave dream and Jamie seeing Mark pack flashlights. She guessed the caves tempted him back. She told Steve about the scraggly pine tree she'd designated as the meeting place, saying Mark would be there if he could.
When she hung up the phone, she said, "Steve's sending the helicopter out. We'll see it go by in twenty minutes. He wants us to stay here by the phone." Steve was working dispatch at the station, so she could call him for updates and he'd call her with any news.
Next Lila called Terry. It was six-thirty. They'd planned to start driving first thing in the morning, but decided to get on the road right away. They'd take Rich's Cadillac because it had a car phone. They'd take turns driving all night and be here by sunrise.
Lila stayed inside by the phone, and Jamie and I sat on the porch stairs so we could see the beach and hear the helicopter. The seagulls started their nightly commute north toward the cove. I wondered where they slept. I wondered if they dreamt of giant waves and sea caves.
Soon we heard the low rumble of the helicopter blades slicing air, and in a few moments Jamie saw it, a tiny orange dot over the southernmost part of our beach. It buzzed up the coast like a big orange fly, and when we stood up and waved at it, it dipped down in a little curtsy as it went by. I saw two guys besides the pilot, and there was an orange gondola fitted on the belly of the chopper. I was so relieved when we saw it disappear around the cliff face. I prayed Mark could see it coming for him.
Jamie sat staring toward the cove, concentrating so hard I imagin
ed a laser beam coming out of his head and attaching to his brother on the other side of the cliff. I couldn't sit still, so I went downstairs and starting collecting seal warning signs to store them for the night. The beach watch people said they were sure it would be a quiet evening, because the wind was chilly and most people would stay indoors for sunset because of the clouds.
It was nearly high tide. I was sure all our stone people in the cove had been knocked over and tumbled around by now. The floors of the two lower caves might be flooded. If Mark could hang on to the meeting tree, he'd be fine.
After I stored signs, I went inside. Lila was on the phone and I could tell by her face the news was good. She was sitting at her desk holding her chest with her left hand and the telephone receiver with her right. She nodded and smiled to me when I came in.
I was so relieved I was dizzy and had to support myself by grabbing the back of the couch for a second. I went back out and got Jamie. We waited by Lila's desk until she hung up.
"They see him. He's by the tree. They can't land, so they have to figure out how to get him out. He's going to be fine."
Lila called Terry and Rich on their car phone next. They were already in Washington driving toward the Columbia River Gorge.
It was nearly dark before the rescue crew got Mark on board the helicopter and headed out of the cove. Lila kept checking in with Steve, and she put all the pieces together for us.
Mark had injured his right ankle, so he couldn't walk or help the rescuers much. Plus he was in shock from the injury or exposure. The coast guard rescuers had to use their advanced rescue procedures to get him loaded in the gondola and aboard the helicopter. I imagine they were wishing he was a sprinter instead of a linebacker before it was over. They were taking him to a hospital near the coast guard station.
Lila had me pack the chicken and fruit salad and picnic supplies in a laundry basket. I sat it next to me in the back seat of her car while she and Jamie got in the front. We could smell the fried chicken as she drove along the winding coast highway south through the dark. At the hospital, Lila carried the picnic basket into the lobby and left Jamie and me there with it while she went to find Mark.
When she got back, she said, "They've got him in X-ray. They wouldn't let me see him. When he's done there, he'll get a room, and they'll give him fluids and pain medication. He'll stay here tonight, but they said he should be fine to go home tomorrow."
Just then Lila's friend Marta came in with her camera bag. "Not you again," Marta said as she came to hug Lila.
"I know," Lila said. "My boys are here less than two weeks and they monopolize your newspaper." She told Marta the newsworthy version of Mark's rescue and said, "End up with, 'His grandmother says this is his last exciting hiking adventure.'"
Marta laughed and went off to take pictures of Mark in a hospital gown. I was sure glad I was staying out of the papers.
Lila pulled a little table over in front of our section of the lobby and got out the picnic. It was almost eleven. More people were coming and going than I had expected, but I hadn't spent any time in hospitals, so how could I know what to expect?
Jamie and Lila and I sat munching chicken strips and eating fruit salad while we watched the people going through the lobby and checking in and out of the front desk. Finally we could relax enough to feel how tired, hungry, and relieved we were.
Marta came and told us she said hi to Mark and took one photo before they shooed her away. She said he looked okay, tired and sheepish, but fine. "His ankle is swollen up like a cantaloupe," she said.
"That's going to mess up his driving class and football practice," Lila said. "When we're fifteen, sometimes we choose the hard way to learn."
Marta smiled and shook her head. "At least he's not pregnant," she said.
"I'm sure that will cheer him up," Lila said.
They laughed like old friends over a standard joke.
Marta stayed and ate some chicken and fruit salad with us. She said, "Oh, this chicken is delicious! Lila, how could you focus enough to cook?"
"I didn't," she said. "Cassandra made dinner. I told you she's a wonder in the kitchen."
"I'm impressed," she said, selecting another chicken strip and biting into it. She looked closely at me while she chewed and swallowed. "Don't tell me you did your own braids, too."
I laughed. "No. Molly did. It was her idea."
"Well, you look wonderful, Cassandra," she said, making me turn around so she could admire the back. "How old are you?"
"Twelve."
"Twelve and such a good cook and so beautiful, tall, and mature? Impossible." She licked the chicken crumbs off her fingers and dug her little calendar out of her camera bag. "When can I interview you?"
"No!" I said, louder than I wanted to, rousing Jamie, who was curled up on the bench beside Lila, and attracting the attention of the night clerk at the office across the way. "No pictures. No story."
"Okay," she said, and she put her book away. "Maybe later."
Marta took a napkin full of chicken for the road and said she'd check in again early in the morning. She wanted a good picture of Mark's cast, maybe with Jamie drawing a picture of a seal on it.
As she was leaving she said, "Cassandra, I need to do a feature on you. How about, 'Twelve is the New Twenty.'"
I shook my head no and laughed at her. Whenever I shook my head, the beads on my braids made music. It felt fun.
It was past midnight when the lady at the desk finally told Lila she could go up and see Mark. Lila had us wait downstairs, because she wanted to see if Mark was ready for visitors.
Jamie was sleeping hard on the plastic padded bench seat. He'd used up all his energy willing the seal pup to live and wishing Mark home. Those were huge chores for an eight year old. I watched him sleep, trying to find something of my father and myself in him. But he was Jamie, unique. His hair was curly like mine and Mark's, but that was the only link I could find among us.
That and the powerful magnet of Lila's love holding us all together.
Lila came for us about thirty minutes later. By then Jamie was up, and we had freshened up as much as possible in the lobby bathrooms. Lila looked old when she walked toward us, but her voice was light and happy.
"He's going to be fine," she said. "The break was clean and he's young and strong, so he will heal. He's groggy from the pain medication, but he wants to see you."
We left the laundry basket with our picnic stuff in the lobby, and we followed Lila to the elevator and got on board.
In Sacramento elevators are usually pretty or even elegant, but this one was a metal box that made me feel creepy. Mark was on the third floor, so we weren't on the elevator long. "Let's use the stairs on the way down," I said, shuddering.
"We will," Lila said. "You'd think they could play healing music or something. Good thing we don't have to spend much time here. They'll release him as soon as they get a cast on his ankle."
The hallways were very dim when we got off the elevator, and the two nurses at their station waved to us as we went by.
"I told them we wouldn't stay long," she whispered as she led us to Mark's room. "Children aren't allowed, but I convinced them Mark needed to see us all before he could rest well."
"That's true," Jamie said.
"And we need to see him," I said, wondering what I could say to him.
Lila sent Jamie in first by himself.
"Mark’s had time to think," Lila said to me. "Sometimes that's what we need to sort out our priorities. He used the time well."
"He's not mad at me for telling?" I asked.
"No, Cassandra, I think he's grateful. He really didn't want to spend the night out there. You know how cold the wind can get, and he could see the rain coming."
"Maybe I should have told sooner," I said, wishing there was some way his leg could be instantly healed.
"You did exactly the right thing. I'm proud of you."
"You always say that, Grandma."
"It's tru
e." She hugged me, then held me back and looked into my eyes. "This has been hard on all of us, but maybe hardest on you. You did the right thing, and now we're all okay, we're all together again."
"In my dream, I couldn't find my mom either. Does it mean she's in trouble too?"
"Dreams tell us the truth, but it's more an emotional truth than a literal truth sometimes. Maybe you feel disconnected from her?"
"I love her. I want her to be happy, but I want to stay here with you, Grandma."
She nodded for me to go on.
"I think my mom needs me more than I need her. I feel I’m the mother. I've always felt responsible for her. I need to find out who I am. I can't do it if I'm worrying about her." I couldn't say what I meant, and it seemed the more I talked, the more jumbled up I was, so I stopped and tried to start again.
"What I mean is, I want to stay with you. I want her to take care of herself. I think it would be good for both of us."
"And what about your dream?" Lila asked.
"I think it means I can't help her, I can't stop her from getting lost."
Lila nodded.
Jamie came out of the room then, looked so young and tired, but relaxed, too. Not worried.
"He wants to see you," he told me. When he saw my concerned look, he said, "It's okay. He's not mad anymore."
I went in quietly. The hospital bed tilted up at both ends, so Mark was a V. A needle dripped clear liquid into his arm, but he seemed alert. "Hi, Cassandra," he said.
"I'm sorry you got hurt," I said.
"I'm sorry I worried everyone."
"Were you really scared?"
"Yea, I was. I stayed in the big cave too long, and when I came out the water was already coming in the cove. I ran across the rocks, and just as I got to the cliff passage, I slipped on the first slimy stone and fell on my foot. I heard it break, and I couldn't believe how stupid I was."