Let Us Be Brave

by Linda Thompson

  All was silent for several minutes until the radio went off again. “Homer Radio, this is November 2-0-6 Mike Hotel ready to depart from Maritime Helicopters pad for Kamishak Bay and Chignik. Please give us a new aircraft update and local weather for Chignik.”

  Mark glanced out the window again and saw that the helicopter was hovering about five feet above the ground in front of the newly painted hanger. It was ready to depart.

  After relaying the latest update of planes and weather in the area, Mark said, “If you have the time and the gas, please keep an eye open for a Cessna 207, call sign November 2-0-7 Lima Tango. It disappeared between Pebble Lake and Anchorage with six on board. We’re asking everyone to be on the lookout and hope we can find them today with the break in weather.”

  “Will do,” Ron said as he gently lifted the aircraft up. He headed west to the end of the Homer Spit and down the shoreline to Anchor Point where he would cross the mud-colored Cook Inlet. “I’ll see if I can find her for you, Homer Radio. 2-0-6 Mike Hotel out.”

  “Much appreciated. Homer Radio out.”

  Mark continued working the radios, computer, and other paraphernalia in Homer Radio all day and asked all commercial and private pilots to be on the lookout.

  Air traffic was heavy all day, and the radio was constantly buzzing with information back and forth between him and the pilots of all the crafts. A rescue grid had been organized by the Rescue Communication Center at Elemendorf Air Force Base, so civilians and the Coast Guard, even small local commercial flights, were flying everywhere with spotters, looking for any sign of a downed plane.

  He wasn’t going to give up on Helen. She had to be alive. She had to be found. This was his way to help her and he would do his best.

  Chapter 17

  Search for Irene

  Danielle was starting to panic. She had been through every restaurant she knew of. She was back at the cabin to see if Irene had returned, but no such luck. Fear was threatening to send her running wildly about the ship, screaming for her grandma. She had to get herself under control and think rationally.

  It was time to call for help, but who would she call? The only person she could think of was Nathan, the nice man she had met that morning. She reached in her pocket for his card and called his cabin.

  When he answered, she said, “Nathan, this is Danielle, the jogger from this morning.”

  “Yes, good to hear from you so quickly. Are we on for lunch then?”

  “I don’t know. My grandma has disappeared. I’ve been running hallways and decks looking for her ever since I left you. I’m starting to panic.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “In my cabin.”

  “Do you have any pictures of her? Look for them while I come up. I’ll be right there.”

  “Oh good, I’d appreciate it.” She hung up and paced around the room in a frenzy until she could get her panic under control. “Pictures, pictures.” There weren’t any. Then she remembered her new cell phone. She had taken several snapshots on their trip so far. Surely there was one of her grandmother. She hit the buttons under the camera section and found a couple of clear, close shots that were perfect for identification.

  Knocking shocked her back to the present. She answered the door to see Nathan and another younger version of himself. “This is Robert, my brother,” Nathan said. “He’ll help us find her.”

  Danielle motioned them into the stateroom. “Here’s what she looks like,” she said, holding out her cell phone. “She’s eighty-nine years old, four foot eleven inches tall, has thick white hair. Her coat and shoes are still here, so I have no idea what she’s wearing.” She glanced quickly through the small closet that held her grandmother’s clothes. “Oh, I don’t see her flowered dress. Wait, no, here it is on the floor by the bed. Her white slacks are missing. At least we know she’s wearing slacks.”

  “It’ll be okay, Danielle. We still have an hour before we dock in Ketchikan. She’s on this ship. There are only so many places she could go. We’ll find her. Okay, we all have cell phones and can communicate through them.”

  “Thanks, guys, for your help,” said Danielle, feeling the knots that stress had been tying in her neck and shoulders start to relax. “Panic was taking over.”

  “Let’s start with the top deck and work our way down. We still have an hour before we dock in Juneau,” suggested Nathan.

  “She’ll probably be indoors. She loves the cool breezes and damp weather here, but not for long without a coat.”

  They quickly put each other’s numbers in their phones and headed out, devising their search pattern as they walked quickly for the elevators.

  “Tell you one thing, once we find Grandma, I’m not leaving her again for a second,” said Danielle.

  “It’s okay. It’ll all be okay,” said Robert as the doors to the elevator closed.

  Within an hour, ship security was on alert for a missing elderly passenger. Irene’s picture was on every computer on board, and people were looking everywhere. Ship personnel were on alert to stop her if she tried to exit at port.

  Danielle was walking a deck that she’d already checked three times when her phone rang. She quickly stopped and answered it.

  “We’ve got her,” said Nathan. “Someone found her in a stairway, trapped. She’s very confused and doesn’t seem to know what happened. She seems to think she’s still in California.”

  “So she’s okay physically?”

  “Looks like it. They’re taking her back to her cabin in a wheelchair. The ship’s medic would like you to meet them there.”

  Five minutes later Danielle burst into the room. “Grandma, we’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

  The medic stepped in front of Danielle and calmly stated, “She’s resting now. Maybe after she takes a nap she’ll be able to tell you what happened to her. Right now, though, she thinks she’s somewhere in San Diego. She’s very confused. Would you like us to get a doctor to come on board from Juneau?”

  “No, we’ll just let her rest and see what happens next. I’ll call my mother and see what she wants me to do. Thank you for all your assistance in finding and helping her. I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re more than welcome. If you change your mind, we’ll be in port for eight more hours. Just call me and I’ll arrange it.”

  The medic and ship’s staff left, as did Robert.

  Nathan stayed. “Well, you must be hungry now. I can go get you something for lunch, and we can dine on your balcony, looking at Juneau while she sleeps, if you would like,” he said.

  “I must have run ten miles since this morning up and down every deck on this ship. I’m exhausted and very hungry indeed. We didn’t eat breakfast either.”

  “Nathan, your servant, at your command. Sandwich, Mexican, Chinese—what do you desire?” he asked as though he were at her beck and call.

  “Two salads, two sandwiches, and two nice warm bowls of soup, if that’s possible. That should take care of Grandma and me. Will you be able to carry all that and yours too?”

  “Just you wait and see.” He quietly slipped out the door and was gone.

  After going over and looking down at her sleeping grandmother, Danielle quickly jumped in the shower to wash off the sweat from her run. Soon she was out, in clean clothes and combing her freshly washed, naturally blond, curly hair. She was radiant from all the exercise and happy she had her grandma back. Since she had seen her like this in the past, she wasn’t too concerned. She had spells when she would get very confused and lost, but she always eventually came back after a few hours or maybe a day. All would be normal again, she was sure.

  Someone knocked on the door of the cabin, and when she opened it, in walked a man wearing a neat, white, high-collared shirt and pressed black slacks, carrying a large tray full of food. “Mr. Nathan told me to deliver this for you, madam.” He unloaded all the food onto the small table in the room.

  When she tried to tip him, he informed her that Mr. Nathan had a
lready taken care of that. Shocked, she looked at the huge luncheon that had been delivered. There were fruit smoothies to drink, large glasses of ice water, along with three gourmet sandwiches, three soups, and three luscious-looking desserts.

  As the porter walked out, in walked someone carrying a huge bouquet of flowers. Nathan peered out behind them. “Just thought you would like these to brighten up your room. Maybe your grandma will feel more at home since she asked earlier about where her flowers were.” He pulled out an Anchorage Daily News from under his arm, which must have just become available since they pulled in to port. “She also mumbled something about wanting to read the paper, so I got her one. I have to admit, I wanted to read about the lost team of Special Olympics athletes from Pebble Lake. One of them might be my cousin.”

  It was going to be a fun day, even if she was stuck in the room and couldn’t go on any excursions into Juneau. There would be other towns.

  Chapter 18

  News Report

  Auntie, sitting at the breakfast table watching the TV news with her husband, worried about her nieces as she ate her cereal. “I wish someone would find something! It’s been four days now and nothing. It’s like they’ve dropped of the planet.”

  “This is KBER TV News,” said Matilda James the TV anchorwoman. “So far, the fate of the missing Special Olympics team from Pebble Lake is still a mystery. The first three days’ search was hampered by poor weather with low ceiling, heavy wind, and rain. Finally, yesterday, in safer weather, planes went out in mass all along both sides of Cook Inlet in search of the missing Cessna 207.” The picture behind the anchorwoman was of Helen standing beside her beautiful plane. “This is Helen Baranoff, the pilot, and her plane. If anyone spots the plane with call letters N-2-0-7-L-T, please call 911 or the Alaska State Troopers. Friends and family continue to be concerned.

  “At the Special Olympics State Games today in Anchorage, athletes continue to try to be all they can be by competing in swimming, track and field, weightlifting, and basketball events.” Pictures appeared on the television screen of a 100-meter running event. Athletes with challenges started at the sound of a pistol and ran with all their might to the finish line. Shots were shown of a swimming competition and of athletes standing on podiums receiving their award medals. Crowds of people cheered happily for the competitors.

  “Teams from around the state are very concerned about the missing Team Pebble Lake. They have started a live memorial at Clark Middle School. It is easily visible from the Glenn Highway intersection at Boniface. Athletes and community members are hanging handmade cards and posters displaying their concern for their friend’s safety on the school fence.” Images appeared of athletes hanging their artwork and cars honking as they passed. Auntie was part of the group working to help with the display.

  “Michael Vaughn, has been out today recording events as they happen around Anchorage. Michael, do you have more information for us?” asked Matilda.

  Michael, a young news reporter with black hair in his twenties, appeared on screen, holding a microphone between himself and Auntie. They were standing in front of the new memorial display. “This is Melinda Clark, aunt of pilot Helen Baranoff and Marie Baranoff, a member of Team Pebble Lake. How do you feel about this event and how the search is going for your two nieces?” he asked.

  “I’m so grateful to the other teams for thinking about Helen and her team from Pebble Lake. Though the games have gone on, the other athletes haven’t forgotten their friends and competitors. As far as the search goes, it’s been difficult due to the poor weather. It looks like that big storm has passed now and maybe our friends and family will be found today. We all are worried and miss them so much. I heard about this display of concern and love developing and had to come put up my own poster.”

  “We certainly hope for their safe return,” Michael said. He turned and faced the camera directly. “That’s the latest from Clark Middle School. Back to you, Matilda.”

  “In other news, Mount Saint Augustine is active again. Are we surprised?” said Matilda. “It erupted last in 2009 and here it is again, blowing steam up to the heavens.” A picture came on screen of the cone-shaped mountain rising out of the waters of Cook Inlet. Steam was rising off the top of the peak. “The first sign of activity was detected underground: a series of hundreds of small earthquakes, with several felt in the Homer area in the past three months. Now the mountain is actively steaming with occasional small bursts of ash, and the Alaska Volcano Observatory has updated it to orange. Earlier today Michael Vaughn went to UAA to find out more.”

  Michael appeared on screen holding a microphone outside a building with the words “University of Alaska, Anchorage.” He said, “I interviewed Darrell Olivett, a geology professor at UAA, to find some answers about the recent volcanic activity.” A picture came on screen of Michael with a middle-aged man with a slightly greying beard, sitting in an office with bookshelves behind him. He wore a string tie and a plaid long-sleeved cotton shirt.

  “Dr. Olivett, could you tell us what is happening with the volcano today?”

  “Mount Saint Augustine is part of a series of active volcanoes in South Central Alaska. At this time the mountain’s threat level has been upgraded from yellow to orange. It’s an inexact science, but judging by the increasing subsurface earthquake activity happening around the volcano, we’re anticipating that it will be upgraded to red in the near future.”

  “When exactly will it happen?” questioned the young man interviewing.

  “You never know with a volcano of this type. The seismic activity is extremely high right now. It could blow in an hour or it could happen in a month or two.”

  “Will it affect us in Anchorage? Will it blow like Mount Saint Helens?”

  “In recent years Augustine has never exploded violently like Saint Helens. Ash clouds have mainly been fine grain, which easily floats up into the atmosphere and can travel great distances, depending upon the wind.”

  “Could this affect air travel? Isn’t ash dangerous for aircraft?”

  “It certainly can be. If it’s a west or northwest wind at the time, all flights for Kenai and Anchorage could be delayed, grounded, or rerouted. The winds could take ash toward Homer or King Salmon and interfere with flights in either of those areas. Chances are it won’t ground all airports at the same time. But, we’ll just have to wait and see how violent the eruptions are. It might decide to settle down again and not erupt at all, though indications are that this is not likely.”

  “What precautions are you recommending for people?”

  “All pilots, check with FAA before flying. All drivers, check on road conditions and listen to the radio for updates. People at home, you might need to take measures to protect your mechanical and electronic devices. You can find more information at the Alaska Volcano Observatory website.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Olivett, for the valuable information.”

  “You’re more than welcome.”

  Matilda came back on screen, talking to her co-anchor, “Looks like it might be a good time to look up information at the Alaska Volcano Observatory. You can link up to it and find safety tips for travel, how to protect your homes, cars, and valuables by going to our website at www.KBER.com.”

  An advertisement about pizza in Anchorage was up next, and Auntie took the remote and clicked off the tube. “I sure hope putting up the posters and cards at Clark Middle School helps people be aware to be on the lookout for Helen and her plane. I hate not knowing what’s happened to them! I hope they’re not anywhere close to that dastardly volcano. It can’t be good for anyone to breathe in volcanic ash.”

  Her daughter stuck her head in the kitchen and said, whining, “Are we gonna keep the cat inside this time? Last time we came home after Mount Redoubt blew in spring, I found our white kitten dark grey and sopping wet with grey snow. She was so sad.”

  “We’ll be more careful this time,” said her father.

  Chapter 19

  Finding M
ore Food

  The fifth morning everyone once again woke up hungry. They each had a granola bar except Lillian. She picked up the plastic bag with all the hooks and fishing line and stood staring at Nicholi without making a sound. He tried to ignore her and kept paying attention to his mirror.

  “Helen, how do you feel today?” asked Patrick

  She stretched out her arms and legs while being careful not to move her head. “Head still aches, but I think the spinning inside is a little better. Looks like it’s not raining so hard today—more of a light mist—but the wind is still really strong. Has this tarp ever stopped flapping?” Even though the rain had diminished, the ceiling was very low and the clouds were hiding the little hills around the inlet.

  Marie returned from the latrine and sat down next to her sister. She watched Lillian staring at Nicholi.

  “I think she’s trying to see if he’ll go fishing with her,” said Patrick.

  Sam quickly responded with “I oo” while actively signing “I’ll go” to Lillian.

  Lillian changed her intent focus to Sam. He got up, put his wood toys in his duffel, and followed her out of the shelter. They started down the beach in a westerly direction. When Lillian spotted a long, fairly straight willow branch that would work as a fishing pole, she stopped, got out the survival kit pocketknife, and hacked it loose from the other branches. After limbing the green willow twigs and leaves from the main pole, she tied one end of fishing line to the end of the pole, then measured off several yards of line, and secured a large treble hook to the end. After she had one pole ready to go, she repeated the process so both of them had poles ready.

  Sam could barely hear her voice when she said, “We snag fish. Who care not legal?”

  Sam knew nothing about fish and game laws, but he did want to fish and he was hungry. When she handed him a pole, he knew to throw the hook in the water as far out in the bay as he could from where they stood. The hook sank into the mud at the bottom. He just stood there.