Let Us Be Brave

by Linda Thompson

  Chapter 5

  Setting Up Camp

  The summer solstice was past, and the daylight was rapidly diminishing at the rate of about four minutes each day. It was definitely evening, though still daylight. That night they could expect only about three hours of real darkness, and the heavy, dark clouds that were still rolling in would make the nighttime appear longer.

  Helen was once again shivering on the small tarp as Lillian continued to try to feed her.

  “Looks like it’s raining over toward Seldovia,” said Patrick. “Let’s get this shelter set up. Marie and Lillian, how about if you grab the big tarp and spread it out on the ground.”

  Marie was a good girl, but was used to everyone taking care of her; consequently she waited, looking off into space. Lillian was known to squat down, hide her face, be quiet, and ignore people unless there was something that she thought was important or that she wanted. The two girls were naturally slow, but they understood the necessity of a shelter. They eventually did as they were told. Both had been to fish camp a lot in the summer, so they knew something about setting up a camp. They picked up the tarp and proceeded to try to figure out how to open it up and spread it out. There was mud on parts, but a lot of it was nice and clean.

  Lillian stopped and looked at Marie, expecting something. Marie continued to try to open it up. Lillian didn’t budge, just stood watching Marie and holding the tarp in place.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Patrick.

  Lillian said something to Marie, but Marie couldn’t hear her.

  “What did you say?” asked Patrick

  “She wants the muddy side down,” said Nicholi. “Can’t you hear her?”

  Marie looked at the tarp, but didn’t understand. Nicholi finally got tired of watching, got up, started with Lillian’s hands, and walked around the tarp, spreading it out with the muddy side down.

  “Good, now pull it over there between those four trees,” said Patrick.

  They followed his instructions.

  “Sam, go find some big rocks down on the beach and haul them up here—ones about this size.” He indicated about a foot of space between his misshapen hands.

  “U-ay” (Okay), Sam replied as he got up from the fallen tree he was sitting on. He walked down to the grey beach and started looking for rocks along the shoreline.

  “I’ll come, Sam,” said Nicholi. He followed along, mimicking Sam’s behavior of looking for something. After a moment he stopped and looked at his face in the mirror and made contorted faces, then suddenly dropped the mirror to his chest and ran and skipped to catch up with Sam again. His arms were tucked close to his body with his hands out to the side, flapping like little wings.

  Sam found two large, heavy rocks. He picked up the larger one with both hands, but managed to point with a finger and mumble at Nicholi, “Grt ro” (Get one). The larger boy knew he needed to pick up the heavy rock because Sam was pointing at it and talking to him, though he didn’t understand any of the words. Sam was Nicholi’s best and probably only friend. He would do whatever Sam indicated.

  The two returned to the campsite and dropped the rocks.

  “Sam, put yours there,” directed Patrick, indicating one corner of the tarp. “Nicholi, put yours in that corner. Now please get two more. We’ll need several to hold the tarp down when the wind really starts to blow tonight. You guys know what an easterly is like?”

  Lillian went over to sit next to Helen and make sure Helen was still covered and warm. Marie joined the boys in the search for rocks. They returned quietly with three more large rocks. They laid them down halfway across the middle of the tarp and again went searching for more. After several trips they had the edges of half of the tarp secured with rocks all around.

  Patrick said, “Marie and Sam, why don’t you try to help Helen move from the little tarp to the middle of the new shelter?”

  “Good idea,” said Helen. She tried to get up, but found her head was spinning inside, her balance nonexistent. She collapsed immediately back onto the pillow of shirts so the dizziness would stop making her feel like she was going to throw up. “Wow, my head is not feeling so great right now,” she said, downplaying how bad she felt so no one would worry. She was always strong, independent, and uncomplaining. It was no one’s business how she felt and certainly nothing to share with a bunch of Special Olympics athletics that she loved and now had to depend upon. It was weird; she was used to taking care of them, not them taking care of her. God, I hope we survive this.

  “We’re going to move you now,” said Marie.

  Sam helped her grasp Helen under her arms and pulled her up to help her walk. Nicholi got behind and put his hands on her hips to help her also. The four danced together over to the new home for Helen and helped her down. Lillian carried the shirts for her bed and pillow. They all stood around her, looking down with worried faces.

  Soon Helen said, “I’m much better now, everyone. My head is spinning inside when I move, but I’m okay if I just keep it still. Thanks for helping me. I don’t think I would have made it without you.”

  “Er a eem” (We’re a team), said Sam as he signed the words.

  “Seems we are,” said Marie. “A team with a crunched coach.”

  “We ak air ah u, no obm” (We take care of you, no problem), said Sam.

  “Thanks.”

  The three smiled and turned to Patrick for more directions while Lillian took the last of the clothes from Helen’s bag and put them carefully on top of her body, then topped the pile with the blanket. Helen’s eyes closed again and she appeared to be taking another nap. She no longer shivered.

  “Marie, look in the orange survival bag and see if you can find that rope and the knife,” said Patrick.

  Soon she had a coil of white, heavy-duty nylon cord.

  “Put the cord through the grommets in the tarp and tie a knot so it won’t slip out.”

  Marie made a huge mess of a knot and tried to pull it away from the tarp. The knot held securely.

  “Now tie it to the tree over there.”

  She walked over to the tree, pulling the tarp over Helen, and started to wrap it around the tree. Every time she tried to tie it, the knot failed and the tarp dropped.

  “I can’t do it.”

  “Nicholi, can you tie it off to the tree?” asked Patrick, making sure he spoke nicely.

  Nicholi was back looking at his image in the mirror and talking to himself.

  “Nicholi, please help Marie!” Patrick said firmly.

  Nicholi jerked to attention. “Are you mad at me? You’re yelling at me again!”

  “No, I’m just trying to get your attention. You’re ignoring us, and we need your help with the shelter before it rains. See the rain right across the bay over Seldovia?” He pointed in an easterly direction where the thick, grey clouds were obviously pouring rain on the mountainside around the area of the little fishing community. “I’m not mad. Just help.”

  “Okay,” he said with a shrug.

  After Patrick repeated his original request, Nicholi took the rope and quickly made a secure but adjustable knot with it and cut off the leftover feet.

  “Now do the other corner the same way, but hook it to the tree over there.” He pointed his jerky arm in the other direction. Soon the two had the rope tight, and the rain shelter was up with room for everyone to crowd in under it around Helen.

  Lillian picked up the rope and pointed to the center grommet and another tree as she looked at Patrick.

  “You’re right. We do need another, especially if it really does blow,” said Patrick.

  Lillian squatted down, but didn’t tie it.

  “Marie and Nicholi, looks like you have at least one more tie-down to fix.”

  The two worked together and figured out how to do the third rope, and soon the tent was secure. It was low to the ground, but in a gale that would be better than a big, high, open shelter.

  The first drops of light rain started to fall on the campsite.


  Marie looked at Patrick. “We need to get you out of your chair and under the tarp now. Come on, Sam and Nicholi.”

  The two boys grabbed Patrick under the armpits after Marie released his waist and foot straps. The two young men picked up the stiff body from the shoulders, and Marie picked up his feet. They shuffled to the tarp and laid him down on the edge. Patrick stretched his arms and legs out and then slowly jerked and wiggled and rolled over next to Helen to make room for the others. He still wasn’t in line with her, though, and was taking up the space of two people.

  “Sam, can you push me over next to Helen?”

  Sam did it.

  “Thanks. Marie or Nicholi, see if you can tear my cushioned seat free from the chair. Grab it from the back and pull hard toward you.”

  Marie didn’t understand the directions, but Nicholi did. The sound of the tearing Velcro fastener was soon heard, and the soft, preformed seat was passed to Patrick under the tarp.

  “Now, Marie, fold up the chair by pulling the arms together.”

  Marie understood that directive, and soon the chair was no longer three-dimensional.

  “Now put the chair with the bags and cover everything with the little twelve by twelve tarp for the night.”

  After a couple more reminders, everything of value was under the small tarp.

  “If you need to go the bathroom, go now because it’s going to be dark soon, and I doubt any of you are going to want to stumble around out there in the night.”

  Marie went up the beach and found a clump of trees with Lillian, and they relieved themselves behind the thick green foliage. Sam went off down the beach with Nicholi as soon as Marie and Lillian returned.

  Marie asked, “What about you and Helen?”

  “Helen is asleep again and I’m okay. You’re gonna learn eventually how I do it. The boys helped me pee in that plastic container while you were gone.”

  She looked down and saw a plastic container with a wide-open top and a handle on the side. “T.M.I., T.M.I., too much information, Patrick!” Marie said with a grimace.

  Ignoring her comment, Patrick said, “We’ll check with Helen as soon as she wakes up in the morning. Why don’t you get more clothes on for the night before you climb in here? Can you also get more for me out of my bag?”

  Marie got their bags out and rummaged through them, looking for warm clothing and something for a pillow. She also found them each a shiny blanket from the survival bag.

  Soon Sam and Nicholi returned, and Marie told them to get warm clothes on and get ready for bed. Once all the warm gear was on, Lillian carefully zipped their bags shut and all four walkers put them in the pile.

  “In Forest Gump,” said Nicholi, “Lieutenant Dan told Forest it was important to keep his socks dry. My socks are gonna get wet when the wind blows the tarp off. I want dry socks too. Wouldn’t tree branches keep the tarp on my duffle tonight?”

  “Good idea,” said Patrick from inside the shelter. “Go find some.”

  Soon everyone was dashing out from under the shelter, searching the forest floor and beach for heavy branches, and the tarp was soon securely covered with them.

  Patrick called, “Come on in the shelter, everybody, before you get all wet. It’s starting to really come down now.”

  The four climbed under and out of the rain and sat on their feet, not knowing where to sleep.

  “I’m sleeping next to my sister,” said Marie.

  Lillian followed her to the left side of Helen. They stretched out and fluffed up their shirts for their pillows and opened up the space blankets. Sam crawled over next to Patrick. Before he stretched out, he made sure Patrick was covered all around with spare clothes and a space blanket. Then he unfolded a blanket, stretched out under it, and used his arms for a pillow. Nicholi stretched out next to Sam on the outside and mimicked his posture. They all lay there, listening to the pitter-patter of rain on the tarp.

  “Patrick, why did this happen to us?” asked Marie. “We’re supposed to sleep in a hotel and go swimming tonight, not go camping. We can always go camping.”

  “I don’t know, but I do know we’re a team. Let’s say the Special Olympics pledge. Ready?”

  They all hesitated, but then followed their leader in saying, “Let me win. But if I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt.”

  “This is what we have to do: be brave. Let us be brave. We can take care of ourselves—even though people don’t think we can. We’ll have to work together to do it, but we can. Good night, teammates.”

  “Good night, Helen and everybody,” said Marie.

  “Oodd ite” (good night), said Sam.

  “My mom says, ‘Night night, sleep tight.’ Same to you guys,” said Nicholi.

  Soon the only noise was the ever-increasing velocity of wind blowing the trees, rain on the roof of the shelter, and the gentle snoring of all six.

  Chapter 6

  Panic in Anchorage

  Now that she was at home, Auntie dialed Billy’s number in Pebble Lake. He would at least know if Patrick got on the plane and when.

  “Hello. Billy speaking.”

  “Hi, Billy. How’s the weather out there? Has that big storm hit you yet?”

  “The winds are starting to change and clouds are rolling in, but we can still see plenty far. Good thing we’re leaving any minute on Peninsula Air. What’s up that you’re calling us? Is Patrick in trouble already? Gosh, I wonder sometimes if he’ll ever grow up,” he complained.

  “I don’t know,” she replied solemnly.

  “What do you mean, you don’t know? I was under the impression that you were supposed to meet the plane and take them to the hotel. Patrick’s been practicing that Special Olympics pledge he’s supposed to lead in front of the TV cameras and all the athletes tomorrow night. This is a big deal to him.”

  “I was calling to find out if they left yet from Pebble Lake. You seem to think he’s here in Anchorage, so I need to ask you: When did they leave?”

  “I took the bunch of them to the airport about three o’clock. Helen had already finished her safety checklist. They were airborne by three fifteen.”

  “Were they going anywhere first? Sometimes they go to Homer to pick up fresh seafood for me. Is that a possibility?”

  “Helen didn’t say a word about it to me. As far as I knew, they were flying straight north up Shelikof and then up Cook Inlet on the west side as usual.”

  “I’m going to call the Homer Airport to see if they landed there,” Auntie said.

  “Call me if you find out anything. Now I’m worried. Patrick won’t last a night out in the wilderness without someone taking care of him. He’s so skinny and helpless.”

  “I will. Hope they’re just sitting in Homer, waiting for dinner or something. Bye, Billy.”

  “Bye, Auntie.”

  Auntie went into her office and found her Kenai Peninsula phone book. She stood looking at the book, not wanting to believe this was happening. She didn’t want to alert Search and Rescue until she had done her own checking. Finally she got her questions together and called Homer Flight Service.

  “Hi, I’m trying to determine the location of Helen Baranoff’s Cessna 207. She left Pebble Lake about three fifteen this afternoon. There’s a chance she might have flown to Homer on her way to Anchorage. Do you have records of any landings there?

  “What’s the plane’s ID number?” asked the man on the other end.

  “Let’s see. I think it’s N207LT. Oh, sorry, November 207 Lima Tango.”

  “Not that I know of, ma’am. I do have records that she called in from Shelikof Strait asking for the weather in Anchorage. Did she file a flight plan with FAA?”

  “I don’t know. As far as I know, there’s no one to file it with in Pebble Lake. Maybe she can file it on line. I really don’t know. I do know the town is very small and the airport’s just a gravel strip with nothing around it. Well, thanks for your help anyway.”

  “Do you wish to report a missing plane?” s
aid the man.

  “No, not yet. There are still more calls I can make first.”

  “I go off duty for the night in half an hour. After that you’ll be automatically relayed to Kenai Radio.”

  “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” She sat there thinking about it and decided Helen might have landed at a private airport in Anchor Point. Auntie thought she’d heard her mention landing there before. Just in case, she decided to call around Homer to see if anyone had seen Helen and the team. She dialed another number in Homer.

  “Coal Point Seafood. Clayton speaking.”

  “Hi, Clayton. I’m hunting for Helen Baranoff. Is there any chance she stopped in today to pick up some fresh seafood? She’s about five-foot-six, weighs about a hundred and forty pounds, has short black hair. She would have a group of Special Olympics athletes with her, one in a wheelchair.”

  “No ma’am, didn’t see her. I’ve been working all day. I even ate lunch on the job since I didn’t have a relief person. Nobody came in here of that description, today anyway.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  For the next thirty minutes Auntie called everyone she knew in Homer that knew Helen. No one had heard from her. By the last call, she was absolutely sure Helen had not gone to Homer.

  “Where are you, Helen?” Auntie said aloud. The more she dialed, the more worried she became. She dialed a local number. “Maybe she’s safe right here now.”

  “Merrill Field Tower.”

  “My name is Melinda Clark. I’m calling because I’m concerned about my niece. She was supposed to arrive from Pebble Lake several hours ago, and I’m wondering if I just missed her. She did take off at about three fifteen this afternoon. I’ve confirmed that.”

  “Can you tell me what her call sign is?”

  “It’s November 2-0-7 Lima Tango.” Auntie could hear keys clicking on the computer.