by DiAnn Mills
“Do you want to trade?” he asked.
Thunder shook the building.
“Nope. These are mine, and I’ll manage just fine, thank you.” Hopefully her response sounded light and didn’t betray the terror rising in her faster than the floodwaters outside.
They made their way to the break room. Fumbling around in the dark with only the aid of a flashlight gave her an eerie feeling, even with Ryan alongside her. Later on tonight or in the morning, we’ll be rescued. I’ll never take electricity for granted again. Never. The long night loomed ahead.
She aimed the flashlight toward a drawer in the kitchenette. Inside lay a package of matches, candles, two packages of batteries, and two light sticks. Whoever had been in charge of equipping the break room had included a candleholder. She’d buy them a steak dinner when life got back to normal. With the strike of a match, the candle lit the small room just enough to switch off the flashlights.
“I think,” she began as she opened the cabinet above the counter, “we have a lantern.” She pulled it off the shelf, then set it down beside the candle and switched it on. “I rather like dining by candlelight, and the lantern may come in handy later.”
Ryan sorted through the supplies. “I wonder if there are any six-volt batteries in here.” He opened the cabinet door and found two batteries. “Jackpot.” He flipped on the radio, which was tuned in to a station out of Cincinnati. Not exactly what they needed. He played with the tuning dial until a station came in clear and crisp.
“Radisen has been the hardest hit by the flash floods. The rains continue, and rising water has forced most of the town to higher ground. The downtown and east-side areas already have several homes and businesses under water. Fortunately, emergency personnel state that the downtown area has been completely evacuated.”
“No, we haven’t been rescued!” Alina sucked in a breath to still her ragged emotions. She forced her attention to hear the rest of the news report.
“Emergency officials warn residents who are in dry areas and higher elevations to stay at home. Roads are washed away, and two deaths have been reported due to the flooding. One woman employed at Radisen Bank drowned when she took an elevator down to the parking garage and water rushed through the door. The Red Cross has set up shelters at Radisen High School and First Methodist Church on Adams Street. If you are near a flooded area, secure higher ground. I repeat, secure higher ground. Water has reached second-floor levels in some low-lying areas. Many individuals have volunteered boats to help find stranded victims. Phone and power outages are reported in and around Radisen. The weather forecast says more rain through tomorrow. Stay tuned for updates.”
“I can’t swim,” she said.
“What?”
“I said I can’t swim. So if you’re thinking that is a way out of here, you’re on your own. I simply can’t go out there again.”
“Alina, trying to swim to safety would be foolhardy.” He paused for a moment. In the flickering candlelight, she saw the sadness on his face and bit back the urge to weep. “I didn’t know you couldn’t swim. Doesn’t matter anyway; I’m not about to leave you stranded. We’ll be rescued. Remember, I talked to the police department and told them we were here. It’s a matter of time before someone knocks at the door and escorts us out.” With a smile, he wagged his finger at her. “Where is your optimism?”
“But they think everyone on this side of town has been evacuated.” Her lips quivered. Didn’t she just tell herself to be stronger? “I’m whining. I’m so sorry. This isn’t your fault.”
“We both would like to blame someone or something, but the truth is we’re in this together. I don’t have any answers.” He shrugged. “Let’s get something to eat; then we can talk about what our next move should be.”
Alina recognized the calmness in his voice, an echo from years before. Lashing out at him solved nothing. His words were meant to pacify her mounting anxiety. “You’re probably right. Fred keeps the refrigerator stocked.”
She pulled out sodas, lunch meat, cheese, fruit, and bread. Paper plates, napkins, and cups rested on the end of the countertop along with a bag of corn chips. A few moments later, they took turns warming their hands over the candle.
“This feels so good that I hate to stop to fix my sandwich,” Ryan said.
“I agree, but my stomach has been grumbling for hours—and you’ve witnessed what happens when my blood sugar drops.”
“Go ahead and make yours. I’ll keep the fire stoked.”
She made sandwiches for both of them in silence and brought them to a small table.
“Thank you. How about I bless,” he said.
“Go ahead; and you can mention our predicament, too.” She bowed her head.
Ryan took her hand. He didn’t ask permission, but she wasn’t about to create another scene. “Father God, we thank You for bringing us back here safely. We ask that You send a rescue team and keep all those safe who are in danger this night. Thank You for this food and for this shelter. Amen.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and released it.
“I never thought bologna and cheese could smell so good,” she finally said.
He bit into his sandwich. “Or taste as good as a steak dinner.”
She broke off the bread crust and tossed it in the trash. “They now make a crustless bread.”
“I bet you save hours of time.” He chuckled, and it broke the tension. “Here I thought you’d outgrown the habit.”
“I still remember your lectures about all the vitamins in the crust. You even talked to a nutrition expert about it.”
“And I still remember your response: ‘I’d rather swallow a vitamin.’”
She smiled; it seemed to come from her heart to her lips. Time ceased to exist in a few captivating moments. Sensing her emotions soaring beyond her control, Alina turned from his gaze.
“It was good then, Alina. We didn’t have the Lord, but He had given us the gift of love.”
She laid her sandwich on the paper plate. A myriad of responses whisked across her mind, but nothing she dared say.
“I understand,” he said after a moment’s silence. “Perhaps it’s enough for us to be friends.”
The radio repeated the same news interspersed with country-western music. The electrical storm had faded into the distance, but the relentless rain and wind continued to pound against the building. Her fears consumed her. A whole night at Flash, in the dark, with Ryan? What purpose did God have in trapping them in a building surrounded by water? She questioned whether the turmoil outside the building matched the upheaval in her heart. Better to let humor disguise her anguish than to go with honesty.
“I think I know how Noah felt,” she said. “Claustrophobia must have been a biggie.”
“Look at it this way. We don’t have to feed any animals … find the snakes that wiggled out of their cages … walk the tigers … or find out if anyone is playing hide-and-seek with the monkeys.”
She laughed at the whimsical image. “Do you ever wonder how they cleaned the stalls?”
He wrinkled his nose. “I never thought about it, but I’m sure you have.”
“It’s crossed my mind, especially if it all piled up.”
“God had it all worked out.”
“Like us?” She reached for a corn chip.
“I’m certain of His plan, and it’s reassuring, too.”
“I feel bad for the woman who was trapped in the elevator—makes it hard to trust God when tragic things happen.” Like Anna. Dear, sweet Anna. “And I hope all the other employees are high and dry.”
“But, Alina, we don’t have a choice. As followers of Christ, we know the flip side of not believing in His almighty hand.”
She nodded. “I’m afraid, really afraid, but I’m glad you’re here with me—another Christian.” She bit into her sandwich.
“This may be the reason we’re together,” Ryan said. “We’ll have to wait and see.”
When Ryan finished at Flash and they went the
ir separate ways, she’d look back on this evening and cherish the closeness. A haunting image kept piercing her thoughts. “Do you think the building will flood?”
Ryan glanced above the candlelight. Lines had been added to his face since the morning. “It’s a strong possibility.”
She dropped her sandwich and nearly knocked over her soda can. “What will we do?”
He paused. “Guess we’ll simply head up to the second floor, but I hate to think of our companies dealing with damaged flooring or losing some of the equipment.” His eyebrows lowered.
“What are you thinking, Ryan? What should we do?”
“My thoughts are we have no idea when rescue efforts will reach us. In the meantime, I want to carry computers and any other equipment upstairs. Files, too.”
She picked up her napkin and whisked away crumbs from her hands. “I’m ready to help. Fred deserves more than to have everything he’s worked for destroyed, even if it belongs to Neon now. I understand insurance pays for catastrophes, but I want to do all I can. Sitting here and waiting will drive me crazy.”
Ryan stood from his chair. “Why don’t you begin by taking some of this food upstairs—and anything else you can think of. Who knows how long we’ll be here.”
“Sure. As soon as I’m finished with that, I’ll help you carry equipment to the second floor.”
He snatched up a flashlight and disappeared. She took a deep breath, certain her frenzied nerves would encourage the contents of her stomach to come back up. That was a possibility she’d rather not consider. Closing her eyes, she prayed for strength and courage—and a quick rescue.
Alina had seen a paper bag in the drawer. First she snatched up the matches, candles, batteries, light sticks, and paper towels. Atop those items, she put the fruit, cheese, meat, bread, and chips. She’d gather up the water bottles on the next trip.
Ryan suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Hurry, Alina. Water is coming in the front and back doors.”
eighteen
Friday, 7:45 p.m.
Ryan left Alina in the break room and went to move all he could upstairs. His fears concerned not only the first floor but the second one as well. With no end to the rain in sight, Flash Communications held no barrier to the rising water. He prayed a rescue team would park their boat outside the building long before Alina learned the precariousness of their circumstances.
He grabbed an extra flashlight, then the clothing items she’d found. He also gathered up their wet clothes. But by the time he started up the stairs, he wondered why. It would take a long time for them to dry, and he hoped to be far from Flash Communications before then.
His vision fought to adjust to the second floor’s darkness. Even with the flashlight teetering atop his load, he kept bumping into one thing after another. He knew desks and file cabinets divided up the area, but he hadn’t memorized where. Finally he set it all down and turned on the lantern. With the extra batteries, they were in good shape. He simply didn’t want Alina in complete darkness when they were finally forced upstairs.
Once he divided up the items, he hurried back down for Fred’s equipment. His office was nearest the door; it would be the first to receive water damage. In his mind, a list began to form of computers and paper files taking priority. His boots sank into rapidly rising water. Time, Lord; I need time.
Alina appeared in Fred’s office with her hands full. “Unless you give me a list, I’m taking what I feel is important,” she said.
“Do what you think is best.” Ryan unplugged Fred’s computer and wound up the cord. “I wish we had blankets. I’m worried about you getting sick.”
“I’ll be fine.” Alina adjusted the load in her arms. “My head is swimming …” She obviously checked herself for what she’d said. “Ryan, I’ve never been so frightened.”
“I understand. Another reason for us to keep busy.”
“We can’t get everything upstairs in time.” Desperation nudged at her words. “I’m not whining, just feeling helpless.”
He opened desk drawers and pulled out various files he thought were important. The flashlight shined on a picture of Marta and two other photos that must have been Fred’s kids and grandkids. He lifted the computer into his arms and piled the papers and photos from the desk drawers on top. “Pray. All we can do is our best. God will honor our efforts.”
She expelled a heavy sigh. “You know, it’s a blessing Fred isn’t here with his heart problems. Marta told me in confidence about the seriousness of his condition.”
“You’re right. He told me his heart needed some repair work. Anyway, we youngsters can handle this until help arrives.” Ryan no more felt like being humorous than he wanted to swim to safety. But if he admitted his well-founded fears, Alina would be hysterical.
“I hope so. I pray so.” She turned and disappeared into the dark hallway, and in another moment he maneuvered his way toward the back stairway.
“Alina,” he called, “grab the radio and bring the files left on our desks.” He remembered the important files stuffed in his computer bag, no doubt floating in the service truck by now. Some of those documents should have been shredded, but little good his observation did now. Another thought needled at him. At the first sign of possible flooding, Neon executives should have received a call advising them of the situation here. Instead he’d underestimated the danger. His actions would not look good on his next performance evaluation.
Mr. Independence, his family had labeled him. “Can’t tell him a thing,” his mother had said.
“If Ryan doesn’t have the answer to something, he’ll not own up to it,” his little brother said last Christmas when the family thought he’d gone for extra firewood. “I don’t like talking to him about a college major or my plans for a career, because he has all the answers and isn’t interested in what I have to say.”
Admittedly so, Ryan prided himself on being in control—almost to the point of using manipulation. Not a thing to be proud of. If he’d learned one lesson today, it was that God held the title of knowing all the answers and possessing all the control. As he sloshed through the water, it occurred to him that this lesson had been a hard one to learn.
Lord, forgive me for my arrogance. My family needs a Christian man who listens with both ears and not with his ego. If I’m given the opportunity, I’ll apologize and do a better job of pleasing You.
For the next forty-five minutes, the two managed to carry several computers, three printers, a fax machine, and other valuable equipment to the second floor. All the while water seeped in beneath the doors, reminding him of the perils all around them. Ryan and Alina battled nature and a river that climbed its banks like a huge sea monster longing to escape the trenches of the deep. He pushed the image from his mind. Later when they were safe, he’d internalize the meaning of today’s events and the way he intended to let the day impact his life forever.
He heard Alina splashing her way toward him. Odd how her boots made different sounds than his. “How are your arms holding out?” He carried a small filing cabinet by Deidre’s desk.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. He heard her open a cabinet in their office.
“Don’t worry about those files in the top drawer. They’ve been entered in the database and backed up at the home office.”
“What about the second drawer?”
“We need all of them, if possible. Concentrate on the paper trails, and don’t try to lift any more of the equipment. You’ll hurt your back—and then I’ll have to carry you.” She had to be exhausted, and humor looked like the only way to slow her down.
“I’m okay, really. Must be adrenaline tearing through me, and banging around masks the thunder.”
He hadn’t paid attention to the weather outside. “One storm after another must be passing through. I feel sorry for those out in boats looking for trapped victims.”
“I think I could handle almost anything but standing in water during an electrical storm. Somebody would have to give me a valiu
m injection—triple dose.” She laughed, but Ryan heard the trepidation in her voice. She glanced around. “When we’re rescued, we could face what I just said.”
“Oh, you’ll be so glad we’re heading for dry ground, it won’t matter.” He recalled the way she used to ask questions when she was nervous or upset. His Alina—how well he knew her habits.
“What happens to the buyout if a lot of these things are damaged?”
“The deal’s done,” Ryan said. “All of Flash belongs to Neon.”
“Then Fred’s been paid?”
“Yes, but the business is managed jointly with Neon until the end of the transition period.”
She nodded. “I see. We’re helping both companies by transporting equipment and files upstairs.”
“Right. But, my dear tiger woman, let me emphasize that neither company wants you hurt in the process. By the way, are your feet thawed?”
“Hmm, about the same.”
“When you take this load upstairs, why don’t you take a break? Pull off those boots and wrap your feet in a couple of those sweatshirts.”
“I’ll consider it in a little while.”
“As your boss, I’m ordering you to make an effort to get warm.”
“Ah, but I’m a stubborn woman.” He didn’t comment. No need to.
Alina watched Ryan disappear up the stairs with Deidre’s file cabinet. She had slipped to a state of vulnerability with him. How easy it would be to confess her heart. How easy it would be to tell him he’d matured into a wonderful man and a capable executive. How easy it would be to tell him she remembered every moment of their two years together—to tell him she loved him with her whole heart. How easy … Shrugging away the misery accompanying her musings, Alina lifted out the files from the second drawer of her file cabinet and laid them in a cardboard box. She’d located two boxes in a storeroom and used them to carry the files upstairs, unload them, and repeat the process. The idea of stumbling to the wet floor and soaking the files Ryan needed for the transition bothered her—bothered her a lot. After all, she’d made a commitment to do her best in the three-month process. Already, she had a positive nibble on her résumé—a Columbus pipe company needed someone with a solid computer background. She’d schedule a follow-up on Monday, along with recruiting a headhunter to help out in the job search. Job security meant the time remaining with Flash would pass by more positively.