As for Anielda, she was the multi-lingual daughter of a Portuguese shipping magnate and an Italian mother. Art was her forte and here she was, over from the Governor’s Mansion to catch a La Petite Gallerie art show opening. She was on the gallery mailing list, and although she was by no means a regular, sometimes something would catch her eye and there she’d be.
Anielda was capable of both independent commenting and unexpected announcements, so the media generally followed her wherever she went. And although that evening it was only reporters from the Ariana Times and the capitol district television station, it was still far more than Thaw had ever anticipated having at a show of his.
In the charming, slightly foreign manner some French and Mediterranean women keep despite years as American citizens, Anielda came directly up to Thaw, hand extended, and greeted him. “Goodness. Such a young man to have so much talent! What a delight.” She extended her hand to Natalie. “Wonderful work, don’t you think?” And not waiting for Natalie to reply she turned again to Thaw. “I apologize, but I am in a bit of a hurry. There is a rather large function at the State House tonight, but sometimes I can’t resist just taking a peek.”
The first lady’s mild, difficult to identify accent lent a poetic quality even to her idiomatic phrases. “And so glad I did.
“In fact, the Governor and I were just talking last night about how it was time to change some of the art in the Mansion. You see, we try to rotate the works of local artists so that we and others have the chance to better appreciate their talents. Some of the work is brought in by the curator. Some the Governor selects. But the Governor and I have agreed that for the small inner room where we tend to entertain our friends most, I am given free reign over the selection of the works.” She paused to let the fact settle in, raised her eyebrows and continued.
“So, if you would be so kind, I should very much like to take on loan for one year the picture of the yearling that hangs near the entry door.” She turned and walked in the direction of the painting, stopping just in front of it at an angle, again causing the flash bulbs to go off as one.
Thaw followed her and as they went she clarified her intent for a second time and sought confirmation. “Do you think it would be possible for you to loan the Governor’s Mansion the painting of the Fawn in Spring for a year? I promise you it will be handled in the most careful of fashions and that many art connoisseurs will sip tea beneath it.”
Thaw needed only a brief moment to take that in the proposal. “It would be an honor,” he replied.
She continued to walk and smile, talking somewhat over her shoulder, looking more toward their audience than at him. “Then I’ll let the press know now. I think it will be helpful to you. And I am sure the Governor will love it. Thank you, so much.” Approaching the painting, she managed to somehow draw Thaw around beside and to the left of her in such a way that when again the bulbs flashed, they caught an attentive Professor Theodore Wamp chatting with Anielda Carval Martin, the First Lady of the New Carlton State. The painting, “Fawn in Spring,” loomed large and clear slightly to the right behind them.
Anielda’s voice rose perceptibly. She seemed to now be speaking as much to the media as to Thaw. “Despite its gentle subject matter, the painting itself has a certain power to it. And as it turns out, its colors would show particularly well in the soft light of my favorite room in the inner mansion where the Governor Martin and I often entertain our closest friends.”
She paused to smile graciously at Thaw. Again flashbulbs burst their light upon them. Then the First Lady faced the crowd, restating in a slightly fuller voice the governor’s interest in supporting local artsists by bringing their works into the mansion and her part in it. “As such, I am pleased to announce that Professor Wamp and I have talked and with his consent, I have selected Fawn in Spring to be among those to be hung in this coming year.
Flashbulbs again ignited the scene accompanied by polite applause and a few bravos confirming indeed that they had an audience. Natalie found herself to have fallen back to be just one of the opening attendees gathered to hear the First Lady’s comments. And with this last announcement, she filled with an irrepressible sense of pride, smiled broadly, and clapped with the others.
Goodness, she thought. I’m so happy for him. And come to think of it, I think I’m just more than a bit happy for both of us.
But then she recalled the deer that she had seen around Thaw’s cabin who took salt from a lick in the summer only to be brought down in winter. This time she would not move too hastily as for all his wonderful qualities, she still questioned whether Thaw would really ever be able to provide her with the kind of predictably secure future her Hebrew background had coached her to expect from a proper husband.
As for Thaw, all he wanted to do was to tell Lem-me and Martha the Anielda story. He knew they would just love it. And he laughed to himself to think how many times they would then set him up to tell it again--and again.
3. Seeds of Chaos
Thaw headed home. It was Thursday, 11 April 2020. He was in his second semester at Nick-Sue now and what with the show having gone well and Natalie beginning to take a renewed interest in him, he was definitely feeling up. Martha, a warm and energetic librarian who, back a while ago, had retired from downstate to the mountains was having Lem-me and him over for what had become something of a weekly event. These weekly invites suggested that she may have had a yen for Lem, however it was his buddy who encouraged them with the steady supply of fresh fish he provided for Martha. So Thaw was not sure.
Tonight Lem-me and he were due for dinner at Martha’s around seven, so he kept a steady pace. But as the weather was lovely, he veered off onto 3N to enjoy the scenery leading to the turnoff for Ellensville. He would still have time to change his clothes, fill up his tank in Lochlee, and pick up some food for the weekend before heading out for dinner. He selected a Bain country western radio station and lost himself in thoughts of the future. As he left 3N for the last stretch home, a listener-alert beeper interrupted the three o’clock report.
Thaw couldn’t imagine what kind of weather might be due that would cause the need for a warning. Although there had been rain, it had not been more than average and he knew of no previously predicted storms.
Ratcheting up the loudness a bit, he heard an unfamiliar announcer’s voice declare a New Carlton full-state alert. It seemed there had been some kind of a meltdown at Magdum Heights Nuclear Power Plant and evacuation efforts were underway for a thirty-five-mile radius around The Plant. Other incredible stories, both related and unrelated, continued to drift in as he traveled. Something about a development of newly constructed and mostly uninhabited larger homes just south of Ariana going up in flames. Arson was suspected, and in addition to the happening at The Plant, what appeared to have been five or six Dirty Bombs had been set off in northern Aesopolis and in the areas between Aesopolis and Ariana. The announcer, who understandably seemed to be having trouble keeping up with all the news coming in at once, advised that people travel neither northward from Aesopolis nor westward toward The Plant until the situation could be completely assessed and proper guidance offered. While roadblocks were being set up throughout the region, where they were not yet in place, travelers wanting to reach their homes and loved ones were refusing to obey radio advisories and continued to stream into potentially radioactive areas north of the city. Meanwhile, people in the areas hit hardest were either scrambling to set up incident command stations or fleeing. Roads in all directions were becoming gridlocked. Luckily, the site of the torched development had been reached by the fire fighters and their engines before the report of the meltdown at Magdum. However, the times of occurrence of the explosions of the Dirty Bombs had not yet been completely determined. It seemed that some had occurred simultaneously, while others had occurred at spaced intervals. While residents close to the flaming development homes were being evacuated to protect them from the potential spread of fire, others were being encouraged to shelter i
n place until further information was available.
Misunderstanding of the seriousness of the threat posed by the Dirty Bombs proved to be more a problem than the bombs themselves. Who knew that among the more informed they were sometimes referred to not as weapons of mass disruption rather than distruction?
In fact, where Dirty Bomb explosions had occurred, radiation spread at generally non-lethal levels, particularly if the radiated materials were not ingested. Public health workers attempted to explain this so that the less informed would settle more readily for a good shower or wash off and only leave for a time the areas nearest the bomb sites. During that time levels were to be measured and the affected areas fenced in or cleaned up. And as an added precaution each was asked to avoid indulging in fresh produce and advised to drink only bottled water and canned goods from protected areas unexposed to potential fallout.
But few had anyone to advise them and those who heard remained skeptical. As such, when citizens crossed an area of contamination and dragged radioactive particles on the soles of their shoes and that radioactivity showed up on one or another dosimeter, it was immediately assumed that anyone near the bearer or his or her tracks had to be decontaminated and evacuated or risk early death.
So hospitals were overrun with panicked but uncontaminated to minimally contaminated persons. On the streets there were those who on hearing the news of the bombs, froze where they stood and had to be led to shelter, bathed, and counseled before they began to again move normally. Others, frantic with fear, unconcerned by the question of decency, stripped in broad daylight only to then hurry on determinedly. But there were also those who anticipated that the worst was yet to come and hid beneath or within any nearby sizable structure unable to exit for days. One woman learned that a Dirty Bomb had been exploded a few blocks away and ran screaming down the steps to the subway. Similarly affected, a man jumped from the overhead trestle only to land not in death but, to his surprise, in an open truck filled with Mexican workers. They gave him hand up to a seat beside them and the truck bounced off on its way to its unclear destination. And everywhere the streets were jammed with the vehicles on their way to any place outside of the city limits.
Given the size and population density of the metropolitan area, towns and cities were being asked to prepare decon areas and emergency housing for refugees as they arrived at distances of up to three hundred miles from the Heights. As a result, even public announcements designed to protect those who chose to flee with requests for outside fed the hysteria of those who had yet to go and reassured them that their fears of radioactivity must be well reasoned as surely everyone must be fleeing.
North of the area in the lower affected electrical grid where there was still power, trains were filling with people and, given the numbers involved, the trains were dispersing the population in family groupings as far as possible to communities along the lines. Buses were being dispersed in directions not served by rail. Where vans and cars were likely to bring the roads to gridlock, vehicles were being required to carry at least four people each or they were not to be permitted through. People were being asked not to use their cell phones unless absolutely necessary. Most of the communication lines that were not down were already jammed and therefore unusable. In general people were being asked to remain calm and to put into place their family emergency plans and to trust each other to do what was best under those plans and in the light of the radioed information.
As they had done before the skirmishes and armed searches in the Middle East, Thaw’s body and mind readied for battle. His senses heightened and his breath came quicker; a clear calm settled over his mind. He envisioned the impact of refugees to three hundred miles. That would include Bain, Ellensville, and Lochlee. Hadn’t they been taught in service that in case of nuclear disaster troops would be moved minimally one hundred miles from the disaster site? One hundred miles. Bain was just about one hundred miles from Magdum Heights. But didn’t the military believe that fallout remained a risk beyond one hundred miles and that it was better if possible to move troops two hundred to three hundred miles away? But they seemed to have no idea as to the size of the event. Thaw knew that Dirty Bombs are pretty much local events unless people traveling brought with them some of the radioactive materials on their shoes. My god. It had to be chaos. And who really knew how to respond? Jeesum Crow. Natalie. Bain would be overrun. Who knew? The Dirty Bombs were strung out north of Aesopolis; Bain could be next.
Lem was outside his cabin playing fetch with Tufty. He turned to the sound of Thaw’s brakes and saw Thaw descend and come toward him in a half run.
“Lem. Come on in. I need to talk to you. And I need to use your telephone.”
“What’s up, man?”
“A meltdown.”
Lem felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Thaw’s telegraphic report continued. Given Lem’s lengthy time in the military there was no need to explain the implications of his announcements. Thaw plugged on. “Magdum Heights.” He headed for Lem’s door talking over his shoulder as he went. “Dirty Bombs. Between Aesopolis and Ariana…arson. Terrorism. Panic on the roadways. Gridlock. Chaos.”
Lem began mentally stacking up the implications of it all. His thoughts raced from thoughts of who would have to hunker in place to who would have to flee. Time and timing were of the essence.
Once in the cabin’s kitchen, Thaw stopped and faced Lem. “They anticipate the possibility of having to evacuate people within a thirty-five mile radius of The Plant. Right now they want them to shelter in place. But no one is listening.” Lem turned on the radio. Oddly, what reporting they could catch before static overwhelmed it had a kind of intense, riveting flatness about it. Above the noise from the radio, Thaw continued his report. “Sounded like despite the call to hunker down, they’re moving in and out as they can from the contaminated areas.”
Lem remained silent.
Thaw’s heightened state had caused him sudden thirst. Without losing eye contact with Lem he reached sideways of the down-turned cup on the drain board, stood it in the sink, ran the water, and interrupted himself for a long draft before continuing. “Many are leaving on trains as the roads are blocked. They are anticipated refugees coming as far north as we are. Although it’s not clear exactly what happened when or why, it is decidedly serious. Especially as we both know they don’t have an evacuation plan for more than a ten mile radius. And now they state the potential for a thirty-five mile one.”
“Another Chernobyl?” Lem answered his own question. “No. That large an event is not possible with the newer designs of the power plants and storage units. Still. That is the radius declared permanently no man’s land around Chernobyl…thirty-five miles.”
Now they were confirming the accuracy of what they recalled from their military training. “You’re right. And, although not likely, it could be worse than they’re reporting as the electric grid south of Ariana is down.” Thaw took a last swallow of the water and placed the cup in the sink. Moving toward the phone his focus changed. “Look, Lem, I need to call Natalie.”
Lem came alive. “Natalie. Cheesum. Waxton. I’ve got to call my sister.”
“Let me call Natalie first. I promise I’ll be brief. Then I’ll head up to my place and she can call me back there after she’s had time to think.” He reached for Lem’s telephone and dialed.
A woman’s voice came over the wires. “Bain County Planning Department.”
Thaw recognized it despite its breathless quality. She’s still there. “Natalie? Thaw.”
“Oh, thank god.” Obviously she had heard.
Thaw’s words lacked intonation. “Natalie. You’ve heard.”
Her response was paced. “The sirens haven’t stopped. We’re just trying to sort out details. It’s all very large and unclear.”
Thaw spoke with authority. “You have to leave. You have to come here. You’re only one hundred miles from there.”
“Thaw, one hundred miles should be safe
.”
“Maybe. But they’re evacuating everyone for thirty-five miles. Bain will be inundated with forced refugees.”
“Shit.” She paused. “My parents. My sister. My niece.”
“Look. I’m at Lem’s. He needs the phone. I’m going home. If you can’t get through, just come.”
“Just come?”
“You heard me. Just come. I’m hanging up now. Bye.”
“I’ll call you. Bye.”
Thaw handed the phone to Lem. “We’ll talk later. When I finish phoning, I’ll be back down. Yell for me if you leave or if Natalie calls. If you leave, leave your door unlocked so I can get in if I have to. For the phone,” he explained. “But you and I have to talk…We’ve got things to straighten out. We need to make a plan for us. For all of us. I think we should expect chaos. Even here.”
Lem’s mind was where Thaw’s was. “The next train into Ellensville arrives at 6:10. Somebody needs to meet it. So we can get a sense as to just how bad it’s gonna’ be.”
As he was going out, Thaw had a thought. “Lem, call Martha. Tell her we won’t be up for dinner. Tell her to meet the 6:10 train and to report back. That will leave you free to man the radio. Tell her we have our loved ones to figure for, after which we can get together to discuss whatever is happening in the community.”
Letting the screen door bang behind him as he left, Tufty was immediately beside Thaw’s feet. At his invitation she wagged herself up onto the passenger seat, and the two of them bounced off up Butternut.
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