“Thank you for the information, Mr. Conright.” The interviewer turned to the camera. “So, there are some basic safety things we need to know, Matilda . . .”
“At this time Ted Stevens International Airport remains open, but if the wind shifts to a slightly more northeasterly direction, it will interfere with all Anchorage aviation and all airports in Southcentral Alaska. At this time flight service is on high alert and directing all aircraft to fly only east of Anchorage and to avoid any travel on the west side of Cook Inlet. All pilots, please call flight service before departing for any destinations in Alaska. If you need to know more about the volcano, or its effects, you will find a wealth of information by clicking on our link to the Alaska Volcano Observatory at our website, www.KBER.com.”
Matilda continued with her news reporting, but mentioned nothing about the lost Cessna with six people on board.
“What’s happening with Helen?” asked Auntie. She plunked down immediately onto the couch, discouraged.
“Honey, they just don’t have any information,” said Harvey. “No one can fly in that area, so there is no news. Think of it this way, no news is good news. They’ll find them.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just can’t imagine Helen and Marie not being part of our life. They have to make it.”
“I’ll tell you, if they do, I’m going to have a long talk with her about working with those people with disabilities. Helen has enough problems with Marie with her heart issues and lazy ways. I wouldn’t worry about her half as much if she had had normal people in her plane. Now she’s out there somewhere, having to take care of every one of those helpless young people. My gosh, one squats and tries to hide all the time, one has violent tendencies and rocks and talks to his hand, one is helpless in a wheelchair, and then one with Down syndrome. My gosh, I hope she survives . . . Oh, Harvey.” Tears started flowing down her face as she hunched over in the chair.
Harvey walked over and pulled her up for an embrace. “I really do think it’s going to be okay. Don’t give up yet.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I don’t know; it just feels okay.”
Chapter 28
Ash—Living with It
The ash cloud continued to make deposits off and on for three days. The air was filled with grey-colored crystals that made everyone cough and cry when they went outside.
Lillian put on her sweatshirt and grabbed a scarf and baseball hat before standing by the door to look at Helen.
“I take it you want to go out. Where you going?” asked Marie.
Lillian didn’t say a word.
“Walk?” asked Helen.
Lillian looked down at the floor.
“Outhouse?” asked Helen.
Lillian looked directly at Helen.
“Just make sure you close the door good to keep the ash out.”
Lillian continued to look at Helen. Her mouth was open, but Helen heard nothing.
“She said, ‘Okay,’” said Nicholi.
“Grab an armload of cookstove wood while you’re out, okay?” said Helen.
Lillian smiled and looked directly at Helen before she walked out the door with her scarf tied securely over her nose and mouth like a bandit.
They were trapped in the cabin, but other than getting on each other’s nerves, they were happy they weren’t living under the tarp any longer. Patrick had established a routine for them. He could see they were going to have emotional meltdowns with Lillian, Marie, and Nicholi. He figured everyone, including himself, needed a routine to help them keep their sanity. There was security in routine—no chaos. They hauled wood, planned meals, cooked, cleaned the cabin, and played games.
Between chores Nicholi couldn’t stop pacing around the room. He always had a mischievous smile on his face, but he never lost his temper at anyone. Sam quietly played with his trucks. He loved playing cards, especially the game of War. Lillian sat quietly much of the time, calm, rarely talking. If Nicholi was acting too agitated, she simply went over and touched his shoulder or hand, which immediately calmed him. Marie cheated at solitaire. Helen found some books to read and read them aloud to Patrick. He loved it. They had interesting discussions about wildlife harvest issues, fishing in Cook Inlet, trapping techniques, and volcanos. Helen learned that Patrick was an advocate who helped others with disabilities. He told her about services that were available in Alaska for people with disabilities and about issues pertaining to getting jobs and care.
In general, they were fine. They had rationed water since they gathered it the first day right before the ash came down. They used it for cooking, keeping the cabin clean, and drinking. Though they tried to stay inside all day every day, they needed to leave the cabin to replenish their firewood, to use the outhouse, and to get more water from the creek for the filter to clarify. They found that if they wore a hooded sweatshirt, scarves over their noses and mouths to act as air filters, and a baseball cap, the ash didn’t get into their eyes and lungs as badly. Everyone had learned never to rub their eyes when they were outside, because their hands were always ashy, even when they thought they were clean. Once ash was in their eyes, the only way to get it out was water or a lot of crying. Rubbing only made it worse.
They had several more black cloud encounters, but it never got as dark again during the day, and the ash wasn’t as deep as they thought it could be. It only reached a depth of two inches, but the wind stirred it up all the time and the air was full of sparkly dust. It was significant enough that Helen knew no one would be flying or landing near them until there was a really good rain and/or the mountain returned to only emitting steam.
Chapter 29
News Report—Day 10
“Harvey, the news is about to come on,” Auntie called, excited. She used the remote control device to turn up the sound.
“This is KBER TV at five and I am Matilda James. Though ash has stopped falling in Anchorage, Mount Saint Augustine is still in the red zone and continues to erupt for the fourth day in a row. The wind did change today, blowing the ash cloud away from Anchorage in a westerly direction and with it any immediate threat to the city. Michael Vaughn, our news correspondent, is standing by with volcano news from around town. Michael.”
At his cue Michael came on half screen. Finally he started: “After three days of Southcentral Alaska airport shutdowns and all incoming flights rerouted to Fairbanks, crews are on the tarmac at Ted Stevens International, clearing the runways of as much volcanic ash as possible, with the expectation that, barring additional ashfall, flights will resume tomorrow.”
Pictures were shown on-screen of enormous rotary sweepers with large brushes cleaning up the ash, along with fire trucks using their hoses to wash the asphalt. All the workers were wearing jackets with hoods securely tied at their chins and facemasks with safety glasses.
Matilda asked, “How are people getting home if the airport is still closed?”
“Some are waiting in Fairbanks and hoping to fly home tonight, but some have given up after three days and have been renting cars or traveling the three hundred sixty miles south on the Alaska Railroad. Many people on the Kenai Peninsula continue to drive despite the risk of damaging their vehicles.”
Film came on the screen of a trucker wearing a facemask, changing the filter in his truck, and closing the hood. “Life goes on with this father from Soldotna,” said Michael. “Soon after this film was made, he headed south out of Anchorage toward the active volcano.”
The man looked at the camera and said, “I can’t stop for a volcano. I have a family to feed, and the people in Homer need the supplies I have in this rig.”
“Matilda, people are adjusting to living with all the ash and going on with their lives. Many Anchorage residents have started to remove their facemasks and are walking around town as normal.” Pictures appeared of people walking downtown with about one in ten wearing white face gear. All seemed normal until the camera panned to a car covered in a thick layer o
f grey ash. “It is recommended, though, that people with respiratory problems or anyone out jogging or working hard out of doors continue to wear protective gear. Anything moving around the ash sends it right back up into the air we breathe.”
Matilda asked, “What have you found out about the rescue efforts for the Cessna 207 that disappeared last week with its five Special Olympics athletes and their coach, Helen Baranoff?
“Matilda, with the poor weather and then Mount Saint Augustine erupting, search and rescue planes have had a hard time flying. They’ve had only a couple of good days to search the thousands of square miles that lie between Pebble Lake and Anchorage.”
“Is it looking promising that search and rescue planes will be able to resume their flights now that the wind has changed?” she asked.
“Yes, if current wind patterns hold, rescue efforts between Lake Clark Pass and Anchorage will begin again tomorrow.” A huge map of Alaska appeared as a backdrop behind Michael, and he pointed to Anchorage at the northern tip of Cook Inlet and then moved his hand down and to the left to point at a spot on the other side of the inlet. “At this time, with Augustine still erupting, pilots are discouraged from flying south of the pass between it and the northernmost reaches of Shelikof Strait due to the possible danger to the search planes.” He dropped his hand still further to point at a stretch of water between Kodiak Island and the Alaska Peninsula and then brought it back up a bit to hover over the location of the erupting volcano. “Until now it has been very dangerous to fly or even travel by ship in the area surrounding the volcano.
“All pilots that have flown south along Cook Inlet since the plane disappeared have been asked to keep an eye out for a downed blue and white Cessna 207. Travel in that vicinity is still considered dangerous though things are improving daily. Pilots flying south have been strongly warned to avoid any dark clouds that might contain ash and to file their flight plans with FAA before taking off. Search and rescue teams will continue to look for the plane and its passengers.”
Matilda came back on screen. “Alaska Special Olympics Summer Games have been over for five days now.” Her commentary was accompanied by film footage of swimming, track and field events, weightlifting, and basketball games. “All the teams have returned to their hometowns. Our thoughts and prayers go to the athletes from Pebble Lake that never made it to the games this year. Hopefully they will be found soon.
“Next on the news . . .”
Auntie turned the TV off. “Hopefully when the planes can fly again south and west of Cook Inlet, they’ll look for Helen’s plane,” she said. “I hope searchers don’t give up just because so much time has gone by. Maybe someone will spot something.”
“Honey, I feel confident they’ll find something,” said Harvey. “Try to be patient. The searchers have been almost constantly handicapped by bad weather and Augustine. The search area is huge, about forty thousand square miles, and it takes time. It won’t always be this dismal.” He gave his wife a strong hug as tears formed in her eyes from frustration.
Chapter 30
More Food
After three days cooped up in the cabin, everyone was going a little crazy. Lillian decided it was time to get out and go fishing. She had been watching the tides from the window and could see that the beaches seemed to be clear of grey ash. She got the survival bag out and sat on the wood plank floor in the corner of the cabin and spread out all the fishing gear. She sat looking at it for several minutes as if hoping it would magically tie itself. It didn’t. Finally she started rigging up fishing lines with hooks and wrapping each line around a chunk of kindling from the cookstove’s woodpile. She made fishing lines for Nicholi, Marie, Sam, and herself. They didn’t have any bait, but they did have some more illegal snagging treble hooks. She couldn’t remember where they had left the other poles she had rigged up.
“Treble hooks, Lillian?” said Patrick.
“I get it,” said Helen. “If she uses illegal hooks, she’s inviting Fish and Game to catch her. It solves two problems: she’s entertained in the meantime and we maybe get rescued.”
Lillian smiled broadly and went to Sam. She put the stick, hook, and line in his hand. He was sitting by the window with big tears in his eyes, and he didn’t want anyone to see. He really missed his mama. Lillian, a very observant girl, knew he was the one who needed to get out of the house most because he was homesick. She gently took his other hand, led him to the coat rack, and pointed to his coat, indicating he should put it on. Sam wiped his eyes as he leaned his head against the wall, hiding. She knew she had him. He would go.
She walked over to Nicholi. He was in a deep trance. He hadn’t talked to anyone all day but had been in his own world, talking to his hand, scrunching his face up and having very lively conversations with himself. Whenever anyone had tried to communicate with him, he had yelled, “Get OUT! Leave me ALONE!” and immediately returned to his other world.
She calmly put her hand on his shoulder as he rocked violently back and forth with his head swinging from side to side, eyes large and bulging as if he were in a trance. At first he shrugged off her touch, throwing her arm violently aside.
“Maybe you should give him room. He might hurt you, Lillian,” said Patrick.
She looked at Patrick and then lovingly returned her focus to Nicholi. She put her hand on his shoulder, gently as before, and continued to talk very softly. He didn’t throw her hand, but did continue to rock his body and dip his head from side to side. His eyes had almost returned to normal. She continued to hold his shoulder and spoke softly to him. His head rocked more and more slowly until it finally came to a stop. Though his total body rocking continued, he was much more aware of his environment than he had been all day. He was returning mentally, one step at a time.
Lillian continued to talk softly to him. No one could hear what she was saying, but he finally stopped rocking and stood still. He looked at her grasping his hand and meekly followed her to his coat. Patrick, Helen, and Marie watched in awe as Lillian once again turned the lion into a lamb.
Patrick whispered, “How does she do it?”
“I have no idea. She seems to have super powers with him,” whispered Helen.
Whispering, Marie confided, “Helen, Lillian is now looking at me. She wants me to go too. I’m afraid of Nicholi. He’s been so weird all day. Can I trust that he’ll stay good if we go fishing?”
“I don’t know. Don’t you want to get out of here? It’s been three days.”
“I want to go, but I’m afraid of him.”
Patrick tried to cough, but it was faint and weak.
“Your choice. Stay inside with Patrick and me, or go outside and enjoy the day. I think he’ll be fine. He needs to get out of here, just like you. Besides, he just rocks and talks to himself most of the time, and you’ll have Lillian, the miracle worker. Give him a lot of room and he won’t know you’re there if he gets odd again.”
“Okay,” Marie said with trepidation. Staying far away from Nicholi, she walked over to her coat and put it on. She also grabbed a scarf and put it around her face. She really didn’t like the ash. It made her cough and it hurt when it got in her eyes.
“You might not need the scarf, Marie. The rain last night settled the ash a little,” said Patrick. “If it makes you feel better, wear it, though. I do.” He tried to cough again, but the result was not successful.
Lillian attached the bear spray to her belt and handed each of her friends the rigged-up fishing lines. The four young people headed out of the cabin and down the splotchy grey hill toward the water, screaming with joy to be outside.
Sam and Nicholi remembered how to snag, but Marie needed a lesson. Within a couple of minutes of arriving, Lillian demonstrated how they would throw the hooks out in the bay to a channel where she could see fat green salmon slithering close to shore. She pulled and jerked her hook and line from side to side as she stepped back to keep it from settling on the bottom and possibly snag some part of a healthy fish. She did it
over and over until she was sure Marie understood.
“Stand apart. Getting hooks out of people is painful,” she whispered. Everyone heard her clearly, but they didn’t move. Lillian encouraged Sam to stand apart from Nicholi.
Marie stood still, hands at her side with her doe-in-the-headlights look. Her eyes were wide with fear of failure. She didn’t want to touch the stick or the hook and line. She was a good girl, just used to other people doing everything for her when it came to things like fishing. Helen took care of her and she didn’t have to learn new things. In general, she was happy watching the world go by when she wasn’t in the house. Fishing was definitely not the norm for her.
Lillian knew if they stayed down there long enough and Marie got bored watching, she would try it. No one could make Marie do anything if she didn’t want to.
“Nice job, guys,” whispered Lillian.
“Anks,” said Sam.
Marie sat down on one of the larger rocks and watched the boys fishing. She was happy just to be out of the cabin. The ash wasn’t much of an issue when they were away from the trees. When the wind picked up, the air was full of grey crystals that reflected sunlight, but they were far enough below the high tide line that the crystals were little problem.
She kept a wary eye out for bears and on the volcano. “If it looks like grey clouds are developing over that mountain, we’re going right back up the hill to the cabin again. Right!” Marie said.
“E ill” (We will), said Sam after glancing toward Mt. Augustine. “Ut s ine.” (But it’s fine.)
Nicholi quickly lost patience with fishing. After fifteen minutes he said, “All the work and no rewards.” He sat down on a rock and watched Sam work for a minute or two before starting to play with his constant friend, the mirror. He admired himself from various angles, smiling and making assorted faces, laughing silently and pointing at his image.
Let Us Be Brave Page 17