And then Mr. Escalante gasped. This time, though, it was not the sight of the valley and pueblo that had made him gasp but the figures standing in what appeared to be a parking area at the north end of the tents—his children. He pointed to them for Mrs. Escalante and she began to cry. Jason waved them on as he led them down the basalt boulder field to the valley and then the Escalantes ran toward the children, who likewise were running toward them.
Jason stood back, watching the reunion of the Escalante family and, though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, tears rolled down his cheeks.
Bishop came forward to be introduced to the elder Escalantes by Jessie, and the two immediately recognized each other. “You’re the butcher at Weber’s, aren’t you?” asked Bishop.
“Yes, I am, or was,” replied Mr. Escalante. “I don’t remember your name but you and your Mrs. were regular customers at the meat counter.”
“They call me Bish or Bishop,” he replied.
“And they call me Jorge or George,” Mr. Escalante replied.
Bishop shook hands with Jorge and then, with his hand on Jorge’s shoulder, guided him toward the Meeting Hall.
It was lunchtime and it took no coaxing to have the Escalantes join their children and the others for macaroni and cheese, Ritz crackers that were at the point of being stale, and sun tea. Jessie helped them remove their muddy shoes and brushed the mud off Jorge’s pants before entering the Meeting Hall.
It was obvious the Escalantes were hungry and thirsty and everyone made sure they got larger portions. Jessica introduced her parents, Jorge and Estella, to everyone and once lunch was over, began introducing her parents to everyone individually. As they were eating lunch it began to rain which provided a good excuse for everyone to get better acquainted.
Jessie told her parents about the rescue of the Amado children, and then Bishop asked her parents to tell how they had managed to get back to the Village.◘
Chapter 31
Jorge’s Story
Jorge looked at the gathered group and said, “As Jessie may have told you, we were visiting our old friends, the Gomezes, in Nogales, not far from the bridge to the U.S. We had only been there two days when the power went out and our cellphones would not work. There were explosions all around us and some fires were started. We didn’t know what was happening and everyone was frightened. It was like war! Jaime Gomez, the man our son is named after, and I drove around the neighborhood in his truck and learned that everyone was having the same problems.
“When we got to the main highway, the one that goes across the border, the traffic was backed up as far as we could see. Many people were walking back into Mexican Nogales, but many more were walking across the bridge to the American side. As a man and his wife walked past us going toward the bridge, carrying suitcases and packs on their backs, Jaime asked him what was happening. He told us that the word had spread that all the border agents on both sides of the bridge had left and people could go into the United States without papers.
“Jaime asked him if that was so, why all the cars and trucks were backed up. He said that he heard that a magnetic storm had knocked out all the power and stopped the car engines of those at the front of the line, so those who came after the power went out were stuck behind them on the highway and bridge. That’s why so many people were walking.
“Jaime and I didn’t understand what the magnetic storm was or why it had knocked out the power and stopped the cars, though Jaime’s truck was working fine, but we knew that whatever it was, things were a mess.
“My wife was frantic about our children’s safety, not knowing if this magnetic storm had also affected Sedona. Although I was also scared, I covered it up and assured her that they were all right and that Jessie would look after Tina and Jaime until we got back. You’ve always been a sensible girl,” he said to Jessie, “and we knew you would stay calm and take care of them.”
Jessie bit her lip as she thought about her close call with the biker and that it had been Bishop who had really taken care of them.
“It was a week later before we noticed that men and wrecking trucks were moving the stalled vehicles to the side of the road to open a path through them, all the way across the border into U.S. Nogales. It was a steady stream of cars and trucks started heading north with almost none coming south, so both sides of the highway and bridge were being used. Some of the trucks had armed men riding in the back, many of them obviously drunk and looking for trouble. Jaime thought they might be members of the cartels. I wondered where they got gasoline, since it appeared that the local gas stations were all closed. Jaime suggested that they were siphoning gasoline from other vehicles and hoping that service stations on the American side would be operating. We only learned later that this wasn’t the case.
“Your mother wanted to leave right away to get home to the Village, but Jaime and I persuaded her to wait another week until the traffic wasn’t so bad. We felt the power would be back on and things would return to normal. That second week turned into three weeks and we and the Gomezes became scavengers.
“During that time we were eating primarily rice and beans and tortillas, and whatever else we could find in the Gomez’s cupboard. The local chain grocery store was ransacked but we managed to find some water and pop in a couple of neighborhood markets and at the gas stations. We took whatever food we could find to sustain us. But we had to ration our drinking.
“Finally, after a month had gone by, and food and drink were running out, we decided that we needed to try to get back to Sedona. The Gomezes would not leave their home to accompany us, but Jaime insisted that we siphon gas from his truck to make sure we had a full tank. He also had a five-gallon gas can in his garage and he cut us a piece of his garden hose with which we filled the car and the gas can.
“People were still walking across the bridge but no longer in a steady stream. And, it appeared that those vehicles that were going to leave had already left. So, we had an unobstructed path into American Nogales. We were shocked to see that the same conditions existed on the American side as in Mexico. Cars had stalled and been pushed out of the way. There were people milling around, picking through the remains of stores and other business establishments that had been burned or vandalized. As we left Nogales and entered the desert stretch between there and Tubac, Arizona, there was no sign of life. We figured that they either had gone back to Nogales or went on toward Tucson.
“We were lucky when we saw a highway construction project with a couple of portable toilets off to the side of the road and a small water wagon. I tasted the water and it seemed okay, so we filled up our travel thermos, which had only a small amount of water in it that Jaime had felt they could spare. Then we took the empty cooler from the back seat and filled it, too. We felt we would now have enough water to get us home.
“We used the toilets, not knowing when we might get another opportunity, and then got back on the road.
“We kept passing stalled vehicles, with no one around, and saw no one until we approached Tubac. There, where the old Tubac road intersected with the highway, there was a cluster of people standing in the roadway, waving their arms at us to stop. There must have been at least 20 of them and we knew we couldn’t give them all a ride. As we got abreast of them some of the men started waving sticks and crowding the roadway. They began hitting our car and yelling at us in Spanish. These were our people, but they were a mob. I pushed on the horn and kept moving slowly, but the slower I moved the more they were hitting the car. One of them broke out the rear passenger window and I knew I had to get us out of there; they wanted our car and whatever else we had. As I sped up a big man jumped in front of the car carrying a length of pipe—and I hit him with the car. He crumpled to the side of the road and I could see in my rearview mirror the others throwing rocks and sticks at us.”
Jorge was visibly shaken by the retelling of that experience and Jessie put her arm around him to comfort him.
“I was so scared I was trembling,” he conti
nued, “and your mother was sobbing. We knew for certain that we had to keep going and not stop or slow down for anything that we could avoid. I hoped I wouldn’t have to run down anyone else, but I was prepared to do it, if necessary, to protect your mother and get us back here to you.
“We made it to your Aunt Celia’s house in Tucson without any further incidents, although I think I scared your mother with the speed I was weaving around stalled vehicles, but I didn’t want someone jumping out in front of me if I slowed down to go past them. As it turned out, there were no people,” he said as he crossed himself.
Celia, at 83, is Estella’s elder sister. She has lived in the same house in Tucson since she, Daniel, their brother who had died in Viet Nam, and Estella were born. Celia inherited it from their parents.
“When we arrived at Celia’s, we found her sitting in the living room with her friend, Dorothy, who lives next door and is 90 years old. They were both reading by the sunlight streaming through the west-facing front window. She was excited to see us and wept openly because she had been so worried about our family. We assured her we were fine and we felt you kids were too, and we were headed home to be with you.
“For the first time since the power had gone out over a month ago, we learned what had happened and what a CME was. Celia had watched a special television broadcast and had been watching an update when the power went out. She had filled up the sinks and bathtub with water, as suggested on the T.V., and gone over to Dorothy’s to do the same thing. She then invited Dorothy to stay at her house and she had been there ever since. They were eating food from both their pantries. The smell in the house told me they had been flushing their toilet sparingly, using water from the sink to fill the tank.
“She told of hearing many explosions through the first night and seeing and smelling smoke from fires in every direction. Fortunately, their neighborhood was spared.
“Celia and your mother made a sparse dinner that night while I walked from door to door in the neighborhood looking for empty homes and taking whatever food and beverages I could find to refill Celia’s cupboards. Somehow I knew she would not be coming with us.”
Though Jorge was now talking directly to Jessie the others sat in rapt attention to his story.
“We spent the night there; Celia and your mother talked way into the night. I think they both understood this would be the last time they saw each other. In the morning, after a breakfast of corn tortillas and weak coffee, we tried to talk Celia and Dorothy into coming with us but, as we had expected, they both said they were too old for new adventures and preferred to remain in familiar surroundings until power and normalcy were restored. It was a very sad parting.
“While I was scavenging for food the prior night I had also siphoned what gas I could find in abandoned cars and was able to leave Celia’s with a full tank and a full can.
“Your mother cried for a long time before she finally reconciled the fact that what Celia and Dorothy had already accepted, she and I might also have to accept when we got home: we didn’t know what tomorrow would bring and we could only hope for the best and accept whatever it was.
“We talked about the three of you and felt you had enough food in the cupboards to keep eating, but weren’t sure how you’d get enough water. Your mother felt that if you had seen the same television broadcast’s your Aunt Celia had seen, maybe you would have stored up water, too.
“As we approached the Wild Horse Casino development, just south of Phoenix, we were amazed to see that the parking lot was jam-packed with vehicles, motorhomes, and trailers. We joked that people must have felt the odds were better at the tables than they were on the roads. We still don’t know why there were so many vehicles there.
“Going through Phoenix we kept going, traveling as fast as we could without losing control going around stalled vehicles. Amazingly, there were not that many stalls. We thought maybe they had seen the broadcasts and decided to just stay home. As Interstate 25 met with Interstate 10 and then the 101 and 17, we saw a lot more stalls littering the highways and more stalls going up 17 toward Three Rivers. Maybe they were trying to go any direction but south; I just don’t know. From the raised highways we could see bands of people coursing through the neighborhoods and especially in all the shopping centers along the way.
“I stopped at the Three Rivers junction, because it was isolated, and put the gas from the reserve can into the tank. The gauge showed a half-tank and I knew that would be enough to get home. We then headed home and had no difficulties. When we exited Highway 17 onto 179, we started encountering a lot more stalled vehicles and guessed they must have been trying to leave the Sedona area when the CME hit. The closer to home we got the more frantic your mother became and, when we arrived at the house and you weren’t there, she was almost inconsolable.
“Then I found the note on the refrigerator. It was already getting dark so we decided it was best to wait until morning before trying to find the trail you indicated. This morning, when we got to the gate to the Ranger Station it was chained and locked so we left our car by the side of the road and hiked in. Your directions were good and we found the trailhead and started out into Woods Canyon, buoyed by the knowledge that we were getting close to our children. We are not used to such walking and were beginning to think we were lost when we came to the sign-post indicating that the Hot Loop Trail veered off to the left, as your note had said. That gave us a second wind, thinking that we must be getting close, but it was hot and we had drunk the last of our water. It was difficult for both of us, particularly your mother, but it was such a nice road, even though it was muddy and already rutted, it was less strenuous than it could have been and very easy to follow. The last part of the climb up the mesa, after we crossed the little bridge, almost did us in, but we could see the top and, with great effort we made it.
“When we got to the top of the mesa and entered the juniper forest, we were surprised by that young man,” he said, pointing at Jason, “with a rifle, who asked us where we were going? We told him we were looking for Jessie, Jaime and Tina Escalante, that you were our children. The young man, talked to someone on a radio and then smiled and told us to follow him. And, the rest you know.”
Jessie and her siblings gathered around their parents, hugging and kissing them. Some of the other women were wiping away tears. It had obviously been an emotional journey for the Escalantes, one that had a happy ending.
Bishop said, “We’re really glad you’re safe and we welcome you to our village. Your children are already part of our family and we certainly invite you to join us, as well. We have extra space in Jack and Celeste’s tent and we’ll move your children in there with you. We’ll set you up with cots and bedding and arrange to go back to your home to collect your clothing as soon as the trail dries out. In the meantime, Celeste, would you help Jessie get the Escalantes settled, and then Jessie can take her parents on a little tour of our village?”
The Amado children tagged behind the Escalantes, sensing kindred spirits and it wasn’t long before Jorge and Estella found they had not only found their own three children but had three more. But Kiera wouldn’t hear of Javi changing tents, so the Amado children stayed in the Westin’s tent.◘
Chapter 32
Red Rocks State Park
As the days passed, so did the monsoon season and the nights started taking on the crispness of the coming Fall. Tanner and Jessie had helped her mother and father retrieve their clothing, food supplies, and some furniture from their home and get settled in. Jessie, in a private moment, had told them of the confrontation with the Scorpion, Bishop’s intervention, and their acceptance into the Maverick’s family. She also told them about the incident on the bridge and how the Amado children had also become part of the Maverick family, now called the Duwanians. She explained how that name came about, as well. The Escalantes were now full-fledged members of the Duwanian community and each had assumed their role in the success of the village.
Jorge, whom each of the local
s had eventually realized they knew from Webber’s meat counter, turned out to be an excellent carpenter and took charge of doing the finish work on the doors and windows of the new greenhouse. Prior to emigrating to the U.S. in 1989, Jorge had been a finish carpenter in Mexico and then in Tucson, where he and Estella had settled. They became citizens in 1992, after the birth of Jessica, and Jorge decided that he needed a back-up profession for the down-times of the construction industry. He attended night school in Tucson and became a licensed butcher.
Estella had worked in school kitchens all her working life and immediately found work in the school system in Tucson. Through a colleague she heard of a food service company that was hiring for positions in the Sedona School System. She applied and was accepted as a cook at Red Rock High School and then became head cook at the West Sedona Middle School when it opened in 2014. When they moved to the Village in 2005, for Estella’s new job, Jorge had no difficulty getting hired in the meat department of Webber’s.
Now Estella was one of Michael’s assistants, so that neither he nor Maria had to work each meal, every day. She was wonderful with kids and almost immediately had the children organized into shifts assisting with the set-up and clean-up after each meal and doing cleaning chores in the restroom trailer and tents. She was a veritable bundle of energy and the children loved her. Estella was now known to everyone as “Stell” and they pronounced Jorge, “George,” rather than the Spanish pronunciation.
With Jorge’s skills in carpentry, Colby and Bud decided they could leave the project to get the last of the building supplies from their previous jobsites, Colby’s construction barn, and some neighboring construction sites. Oak Creek was already flooding behind the Ranger Station maintenance yard and Colby wanted to get the construction supplies, at least to the maintenance yard where they’d be handy, before more rain, snow, or cold limited their trips into the Village. The large truck and trailer and Tanner’s Cherokee and the ATV trailer were already stored in the yard, so they didn’t have to ford the creek. Once in the yard, they would be able to shuttle the building materials up to the village on the Woods Canyon and Hot Loop Trails using the ATVs and utility trailers.
Sinagua Rising: A story of survival after a worldwide catastrophe Page 38