Ms. Got Rocks

by Jacqueline Colt

  Seconds ago, Rocky was crying, then she couldn’t help but laugh to herself, because she was clinging to this huge rock like that cat with the suction feet clinging to the car window years ago.

  Very brief moments later, Rocky’s lifeline tightened and the dredge whipped into the main current. Rocky was snatched from the face of the rock and onto the surrounding rocks and then dragged back into the river whirlpool.

  Opening her eyes, Rocky had enough awareness to spot her hookah mouthpiece floating away in the current. It was attached to her wet suit with a two-foot line. Rocky struggled to grab the hookah and stuff it back into her mouth. She blew hard into it to clear the river water from it.

  The water looked shallower here. That meant the dredge must be right in the rapids and Rocky’s body was being rolled over the rocks in the four-foot deep water. If she could get her feet under her she could stand up and maybe hold against the current.

  Rocky was not fighting to stand now; she was fighting to keep from being wound again in her own lifeline as she was rolled down this stony portion of the riverbed.

  The current and the dredge were slowing, the water deepening again. Rocky was thrown into the limbs of an underwater snag tree. The dredge was still moving with the current and pulling her lifeline. Rocky was wedged into the tree snag, like an anchor.

  Rocky knew there was something broken in her chest. She could breathe shallowly, but a deep breath hurt badly. Blocking out the pain was not easy, she was in a battle with the tree snag and she would win over it and the pain. She was pretty sure she would win.

  Grabbing her lifeline and pulling it toward her getting some slack she tied it around the closest stub of a branch right next to her head. She now had eighteen inches of free line to work with. She pushed and pulled with her arms against the current to get her legs between the trunk of her body and the truck of the tree.

  She doubled over while reaching down forcing her left leg with both hands into the tucked position. Giving herself seconds to think, Rocky realized what she should have done, and what she needed to do immediately to get herself to the surface.

  Both her legs and arms were free of the tree and she pushed against the trunk. That worked, she climbed hand over hand up the tree stump. When she was at the top, and the current was battering her head, she moved both her legs up again between the truck and her body. She reached down on her left leg and pulled her dive knife out of the scabbard and did what she should have done first when she was back on the pontoon. Taking several deep breaths, Rocky cut the lifeline and her hookah hoses and kicked off the stub tree for the surface.

  Nothing felt as great right then as that huge granite rock. She grabbed it and clung to the sun hot rock face with the river crashing against it and her toes.

  Breathing caused a terrible pain in her side. All of her limbs hurt, but worked. She could lift her right foot and move it over toward her right and explore with her toes for a foot hold. She found a tiny crease in the rock; she brought her foot back to the safe little ledge. Moving her right hand in that direction, she found the little crease that ran up to her hand level. Rocky was going to have to move up to the top of the rock, and then she did not know what the heck she would do, but on top was much safer than right there, she thought.

  Little by little she carefully moved up and to the right around to what would be the backside of the rock away from the river.

  On reaching the shady side, she rested and looked up for a handhold to the top. There was nothing looking good right here. She would need to move further around the side of the rock facing toward the bridge. Rocky looked down, she knew she shouldn’t have, but she did.

  The rock was sitting on a dry black sand beach a mere three-foot drop to the ground. She must have been moving down instead of up. Rocky dropped to the beach and a stabbing pain bulleted through her entire body. She dropped flat out on the hot sand in the ripped up wet suit, and attempted to breathe but not deeply as that hurt too much.

  Rocky gathered herself together. She painfully got up and slowly walked and crawled up the river to where it ran past the cabin, there she swam across.

  The dogs were waiting for her on the other side, dancing with delight that she was through with work for the day. But, she was not finished.

  Sitting on the bottom step of the porch, Rocky stripped off her shredded wet suit pants and top. Naked, she staggered up the steps and pulled on the first jeans in the drawer and a tank top, which was an agony to get over her head.

  Rocky had probably broken something inside, but she did not have time right then to find out. She needed to hurry. The dredge must get tied off from where ever it was on the river, and Rocky must find out why all the lines let go at the same time.

  Shoving her nicked and bleeding bare feet into her work boots, she shut the dogs in the cabin.

  Rocky walked slowly and not quite upright to the truck. Her plan was to drive downriver looking for the dredge. Throwing every piece of line she owned into the truck bed, Rocky started the engine and looked over at the river. She would somehow winch the dredge back to shore.

  The American flag that was flying from the dredge could barely be seen, bobbing and waving in the tiny summer breeze. It was down by the bridge, but Rocky could not see any more of her equipment from the meadow.

  She was going down there to rig a line to that dredge and tie it off onto the truck. Rocky could see that might be a two-person job, she would give Devlin a call and see if he could help with the job when he got off work.

  The old winch on the front of the truck, had not been started since Rocky had the truck. She was sure it was heavy enough to pull the dredge out of anything, but when did it last run and would it even work was the question.

  Admonishing herself too late that she had not checked out this essential piece of safety equipment for operating a production gold mining business she continued driving downriver.

  “That was plain sheer dumb,” Rocky told herself. “The first of a long string of plain, sheer dumb things you’ve done since you've got here.”

  The ride down the rutted driveway in the rattletrap truck was as close to agony in her chest and leg as she had ever been.

  When the truck was directly across from the dredge, Rocky could assess what she needed to do. The dredge had wedged itself between the bridge buttress and a gravel bar. Rocky thought it looked to be a fairly straightforward task to winch it out after she four wheeled down the bank.

  Then walking back up to the bridge wasn't painfree. Peering down at the dredge from the bridge, it was sitting forlornly stuck, the flag fluttering bravely in the breeze, Rocky thought she could actually winch it up onto the trailer and then pull it up onto the road.

  "Getting the line onto it and tied down is going to be the pisser and every variation of hell." Rocky,pep talking herself, stood watching the water funneling between the abutment and the gravel bar. It looked too deep to wade into and the current running too swift to swim over to it. Standing on the bridge looking down at the roiling water Rocky was sure she was going to get wet again.

  First things first, would be to drive the truck even further down the bank as close to the waterline as she could. Then, worry about getting the line tied off to the dredge.

  Fortunately, the dredge looked securely wedged into its spot and was not about to go floating away while Rocky unloaded the equipment.

  Looking over what equipment was in the back of the pickup, most of it was still what her Father hauled around. Rocky had never more than cursorily glanced at the stuff, other than planning someday to clean out the back of the truck.

  Her Dad came through for her again; there was a grappling hook in the truck. Rocky had scraped her hand twice on that sucker loading groceries into the truck but never really paid attention to it before.

  With the grappling hook tied to the line, Rocky could attempt to throw it around anything on the closest pontoon and perhaps if it caught well enough she could just pull the dredge over to the riverbank away
from the river current.

  “Okay, I have the plan, let’s do it,” Rocky muttered into the soft summer air.

  Later, lying on the hot sand with her eyes closed, she talked to her sister in law on the cell phone, Rocky rested. She had tried a dozen times to sling that damn grappling hook over the pontoon. She was in such pain in her chest, she did not think she was going to die, she really truly wanted to die.

  Calling Margie to ask Devlin to come to the bridge when he got off work, Rocky knew she would be in the same spot on the sand burned to a crispy critter. When they disconnected, Rocky snuggled back onto the sand and asked God to please let the dredge stay where it was for a few more hours. She let the warm California sun wash over her, and tried not to breathe too deeply.

  Sirens were coming that way; Rocky wondered what was happening, maybe there was a grass fire. The sirens were getting louder and she forced herself up into a sitting position.

  The sirens were screaming closer, Rocky saw a county rescue truck and a fire truck racing over the bridge.

  “Are they coming for me?” Rocky wondered.

  Within moments EMT’s and fire crews surrounded her. While she was being given the once over by the EMT crew, she watched as the fire crew set the grappling hook on the dredge. Rocky’s truck was moved out of the way. The firefighters then pulled the dredge out of the water and halfway up the beach with the fire truck. They accomplished within minutes what Rocky had been working on for at least an hour. The dredge looked scraped up, but no structural damage was apparent as the crew went over it.

  This fire crew was admiring the mining equipment. Somehow, Rocky didn't know why she thought that was funny, but it hurt like heck to laugh. She guessed that people growing up in gold country learn early that cool dredges make more money for cool men than cool cars.

  The news was not good on her side of the lollipop. The woman EMT looking at her leg was making clucking noises and the man listening to her lungs was looking worried. Rocky looked on the bright side, that they always looked this way. Out of all the people and engine noises, she heard that one familiar voice.

  “Rochelle Siobhan Clancy, what the hell have you gotten up to this time?” her brother Dev was yelling at her as he ran down the riverbank. When he was worried, and the Irish brogue rolled out of him, he sounded just like Grandpa Clancy.

  The EMT was giving them the word, Rocky probably had at least one broken rib, and even though her leg was not broken, the contusion was severe. Rocky didn’t want to go to the hospital, she was insisting that Devlin could drive her home.

  “I’ll go to bed and tomorrow I will be fine,” Rocky pleaded her case.

  “No, you won’t be fine.” Margie was now rounding the crowd standing assessing Rocky’s swollen red scraped leg.

  “Load her into the rig guys, she is going to the hospital, and I won’t take any sass from you, girl,” Margie commanded.

  “Rocky, if you don’t do what she tells you when she puts on that nurse voice you are going to be sorry for a long time. Get in the truck, you are going into the hospital,” her brother told her.

  Margie patted Rocky on the shoulder. “I’ll drive my car right behind you and stay there with you.”

  The head honcho nurse, who was disguised as Rocky’s sister in law most days, watched the EMTs get her on the gurney and loaded into their rig. Her protests that she could have walked were falling on deaf ears. Rocky was going in the rescue rig and she was going to like it.

  The battalion chief and Dev were conferring about the dredge and before someone closed the vehicle door on her view of the scene, Rocky watched the dredge being rigged up to sit on Dev’s truck bed.

  The ride to the hospital was not the most comfortable thing ever. She hurt more than when she whipped into the gigantic rock.

  The wait in the ER was forever and by then she was not only hurting, but also hungry. Margie went to the rescue and soon she reappeared with some sandwiches and soda pops from the cafeteria.

  “Margie, you should have seen all the gold bearing black sand on the backside of that rock. I can hardly wait to get home and see if it's on my claim. Tomorrow I‘m going to move all the high banking equipment over there and start working that side,” Rocky was excitedly explaining her plans.

  At that moment the doctor appeared at the door, and waved a hello at Margie.

  He said, “From the looks of that leg, you are not going to be shoveling any sand tomorrow. The bad news is that the X-rays are showing two broken ribs, the good news is that your leg isn’t broken. The bruise is deep, down close to the bone and I want you off of it. Tonight, I want ice packs twenty minutes on and twenty off, for swelling. I want you off your leg for at least forty-eight hours, but I know that you won’t do it, stay off it until tomorrow afternoon.” the doctor continued.

  “The ribs will heal on their own, and when it hurts you will know you did something that you weren’t suppose to. Rest, do anything that you know how to do that you can rest doing."

  "Do you know her?” the doctor asked looking at Margie.

  “Oh, yeah, she is my sister in law,” answered Margie. “She doesn’t know how to sit still. I’ll do my best to hold her down to a small whirlwind.” promised Margie.

  “Margie, here are two scripts for her. Rocky, I’m writing you a prescription for an antibiotic that is for your leg and the ribs, and a pain med.”

  He gave Rocky the directions for the medicine usage,a pat on the arm, told her she was in great shape and would be fine in a month or two. Giving Margie a mischievous wink, he whirled out of the room.

  While Rocky gathered her gear, Margie called Devlin to let him know she and Rocky were on the way to their house for the night, with one stop at the pharmacy in the hospital.

  "We are just at the pharmacy waiting to pay."

  Dev reported. "Great, tell Rocky not to worry. We got the dredge off the river bank, it's back to the cabin. The guys put it into the shed. I put a padlock on it, but it is rusty I'll get a new one tomorrow. Tommy drove the truck back to the cabin, he made sure all the gear was back home." "Justin made sure the doors and windows were locked. Tell Rocky that the dredge looks better than she did for the day’s work." Dev wasn't laughing.

  Dev pulled the gold bearing carpet and miners moss out of the dredge flume and put it into the kitchen sink for safety and to drip water.

  “Tell her I saw some color when I pulled the carpet out of the flume,” he said knowing it would make her feel better.

  The plan for the night was to lock up the cabin, water the garden, pack up the dogs and bunny, a bag for Rocky and meet the women back at the Auburn house for dinner.

  The dogs would be thrilled to get to go with Dev and for a night playing with Pokey the Border Collie.

  By the time they got to the house, Rocky was stiff and hurting so bad, that she was darn glad for the big reclining chair. She was especially glad for the painkiller. That was saying something regarding the quality of the pain, the Clancy crew are not a pill gulpers. Rocky slept through Dev getting back home with the dogs and her pajamas and she slept through dinner.

  The sun was blazing into Rocky’s eyes and Phoebe pawed her hand.

  Rocky thought, “Phoebe must be checking if I’m still alive.” Rocky hobbled to the back door and let the three dogs out and hobbled into the bathroom. She eased herself into the shower, where even the water hurt. Margie had a cotton robe on the door. The painkillers made her too loopy to think.

  The house smelled like fresh coffee dripping and cinnamon rolls. Margie grinned at Rocky as she shuffled into the kitchen and eased her aching body onto the kitchen chair.

  Devlin fresh out of the shower and ready to hit the road for work, pulled three fresh cinnamon rolls onto his plate and poured all of them fresh coffee. Margie was having a fruit plate.

  They sat and ate with the silence that comes of knowing your companions. Margie kept looking at Rocky, though, like she was a specimen that Margie had never seen before.

  “D
o I pass inspection, or are you going to throw me into the reject pile?” Rocky asked her.

  “Actually, you are looking pretty good all things considered, but I should have gotten your temp. before you swallowed that hot coffee,” Margie had her hand on Rocky’s forehead, taking her temperature the old fashion way.

  Dev said to Margie, “It looks like she plans on living, so I guess I’ll have go to work.”

  As Devlin reached for the plate of pastry, Rocky asked, “You really aren’t going to eat that last cinnamon roll?”

  “Yeah, I was kinda fixing to take it with me, one for the road.”

  Rocky was trying to keep a straight face.

  “That stuff is so full of fat and preservatives; they won’t have to embalm you when you die. Straight from dead to The Mummy.” Rocky stated.

  Devlin put the cinnamon roll back onto the plate and pushed away from the table.

  Rocky popped the rejected roll into her mouth, with a big evil, food smeared over teeth grin.

  “Thanks Bro,” she muttered around the roll.

  Her good arm got a playful punch and Margie got a playful kiss. Devlin let the dogs in and banged the screen door on his way out to work. He was a good man, Rocky’s brother.

  The next weekend Deputy Justin Dixon and Devlin had a swell time getting the water running into the kitchen faucet. Even though Rocky was racked up, on crutches and in the way, they worked around her. Rocky hobbled around a little on Friday and made veggie soup in the crock-pot, it was wonderful for lunch on Saturday with the sourdough bread that Justin brought.

  The three old friends barbequed steak and corn on the cob in the moonlight. Rocky added the potato salad and coleslaw from the deli.

  They didn't remember how many times they all trooped into the kitchen and turned on the faucet. The trio admired once again the skill, brains, extreme talent and good looks of the two plumbers, Justin and Devlin. Rocky was buzzing from the painkillers, the guys, well, they were buzzed. The beer and picnic lunch kept them fortified. Between the mutual admiration group excursions to the faucets, Rocky called to her new friend Jazz Harris in Boston, they planned a gold dredging weekend for Jazz before the season was over.