“What did I tell you? Here’s John.” Scout was already looking down the lane. But his tail didn’t wag its usual greeting. Instead, he stayed by Alexa’s side as they continued toward the cabin. When she recognized the Department of Environmental Resources SUV, Alexa thought that John’s car had broken down or something, and Jim was giving him a lift. But Jim got out of the car alone. And then Melissa’s car drove down the lane.
“Hey, Jim. What’s up?” Alexa asked when she reached the SUV. His grave expression was alarming. “Is something wrong?”
“I have some really bad news. Maybe we should go up and sit down,” Jim said.
“No, tell me.” Panicked, Alexa felt a growing chill. Behind her, Melissa’s car came to a stop and the door opened. Melissa rushed to Jim’s side. She looked as if she’d been crying. An icy cold settled into Alexa’s core as she waited for Jim’s reply.
“It’s John.” He choked out the words. “When we went to that survey site today, we had a run-in with the surveyors.” Jim grasped her arm. “I’m sorry, Alexa. John’s dead.”
Chapter Twenty-six
April 13, 1979/May 6, 1979
The people put nuclear power on trial. No more Harrisburgs.
―Poster for the March on Washington, May 6, 1979
“There it is,” Will pointed through the Thing’s windshield to the four concrete towers sitting on an island in the middle of the Susquehanna River. “The world-famous Three Mile Island. They say everything is safe now.”
“Those towers are pretty scary looking. It’s almost like having an atom bomb sitting out there. Thank God it didn’t melt down.” Will’s father gripped his son’s shoulder with emotion. “Your mother and I were terrified, but you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. We knew you’d leave if it got too bad.”
“Do you want to get out of the car? Get some fresh air?”
“Nah. I wanted to see the famous Three Mile Island. But I’m not taking a chance on getting radiated. Let’s go somewhere for a beer.”
“Fine with me. I hate this place.” Will started the car and pulled back out onto the road.
Sitting in a booth at the neighborhood tavern, Will told his father, “Just one beer, then we better get back to Mom and Randi.”
Dad grinned. “It’s hard to believe my only son has made me a grandfather. We can leave whenever you want. Let me tell you, though. Your mother has spent this entire time fussing over little Walden and talking baby stuff with Randi. They haven’t even noticed we’re gone.” He grew serious. “Besides, you look like you could use a break. Has that baby been keeping you from getting enough sleep? Randi doesn’t work. Let her get up in the night.”
Will put his half-empty mug on the table. “That’s not it. Randi has been getting up with Walden since she’s breastfeeding. But I still can’t sleep. I feel so guilty, Dad. I failed them during TMI. With Randi pregnant, we should have evacuated the first day. Instead, I believed the power company and state officials when they said there was nothing to worry about. We didn’t know the baby would come early. Still, I should have insisted we leave, just in case. Randi wanted to get out of town, but I pooh-poohed her concern.”
“You did the best you could in confusing circumstances. From what I’ve heard, the powers that be didn’t really know what was going on either. Carter sending in that man, Denton, from the NRC―he helped get a handle on things. But, by that time, the baby was already on the way.”
“Before we got married, you said I needed to be prepared to protect Randi and my family. I feel like the first time I was tested, I didn’t come through.” Will rubbed a hand across his forehead.
“I’m glad you took my words to heart.” His father gave a soft laugh. “But you did the best you could―and sometimes that’s all a man can do.”
Will took another sip of Rolling Rock. “I’ve been thinking about what I can do to make things right. One of the guys I work with, Andy, has been telling me about the anti-nuke movement. Even before TMI, there were a lot of people out there trying to stop nuclear power plants from being built―because of the danger. What happened here only demonstrates that they’re right.”
Finishing his beer, Dad reached for his wallet. “I’d say these anti-nuke people have a point. I know I’m glad nobody’s talking about building one of those reactors near home.”
“There aren’t enough people in Potter County to make a nuclear power plant profitable. You know, when I took my first class in college, I’d never seen that many people in one place.” Will laughed as he followed his father out the door.
“He smiled at me,” Will exclaimed and beamed at the baby in his arms.
“Why, yes he did. Did little Walden smile at his daddums? Isn’t he such a precious boy? Yes he is.” Randi, seated next to Will on the couch, leaned over and babbled at the baby.
“Smiling at one month. That’s very advanced, right?” Although Will had read the baby book, most of it remained a blur.
“Of course it is.” Randi reached for the baby and rocked him in her arms.
“You’re OK with me going to that rally next Saturday with Andy, right?”
“Absolutely. I would go with you if I didn’t have to stay with baby cakes. You need to stand up and stop another TMI.” Randi leaned into her husband. “With me being in the hospital and all, I didn’t really have to deal with all the scary things that were going on. Like that bubble thing. I know that it was a tough situation for you, babe. So go with Andy. We’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll call and see if Denise wants to visit that day. She hasn’t seen Walden yet.”
On the first Sunday in May, just over a month after Three Mile Island, Will and Andy joined a busload of protestors from Harrisburg on their way to the anti-nuke March on Washington, DC. When they stepped off the bus, the size of the crowd shocked Will. “Look at all these people.”
“It’s a righteous cause.” Andy grabbed the sign he’d brought from the storage compartment under the bus. Its big block letters cried DON’T FORGET TMI.
Their group walked toward the White House for the rally. Many of the people in the crowd were young, dressed in jeans and sneakers. A lot of the guys sported long hair and beards. Groups were carrying cardboard signs and makeshift banners made out of bedsheets with messages scrawled in paint. When they reached the White House, they joined an even larger crowd. As they approached, the protestors chanted in unison, “Hell no, we won’t glow.” Caught up in the excitement, Will joined in the chant.
When the crowd switched to “Two-Four-Six-Eight, We Don’t Want to Radiate,” Andy cackled. “Oh, yeah. Hear that Jimmy Carter, Mister everything’s-fine-at-TMI.”
Will burst into whoops of laughter before he took up the next chant, “No Nukes. No Nukes. No Nukes.” For the first time in over a month, he was having fun. And it was for a cause that could make a difference.
The crowd soon marched toward the capitol building, where a big stage had been erected. The program lasted for several hours. A lot of people spoke against nuclear power, many mentioning the recent crisis at Three Mile Island. Will didn’t recognize most of the speakers, but he agreed with what they were saying. He’d seen the light. Nuclear power was dangerous, and the government should stop any new power plants from opening their doors. After California Governor Jerry Brown finished his remarks, Will leaned over to Andy. “I can’t believe I was such a dumb ass to believe Met-Ed and all their lies about how safe nuclear power is.”
“Hey, man, chill. You weren’t the only one. But look at this crowd.” Andy waved his arm in a semi-circle. “There must be more than a hundred thousand people here. Especially after that fuck-up at TMI, the word is getting out. The people have spoken, man.”
“I’m not sure it’s going to be that easy. These companies have a boatload of money tied up in building nuclear plants. They’re not going to give up without a fight.” Will abandoned the conversation when Joni Mitchell came out on stage to play her song, “Woodstock.” He let the words wash over him, feeling content as the
spring sun warmed his back.
On the bus ride home, most of the passengers slept, tired out by the long day. A faint smell of stale marijuana hung in the air, trapped in the confined space. In the back of the bus, a radio played Smokey Robinson’s “Cruisin’.” Will stared at the passing scenery in the fading light and made a new vow: he would do everything he could to protect innocent people from the dangers of nuclear power. He hadn’t been able to protect Randi and Walden from TMI, but maybe he could balance the scale by preventing other nuclear meltdowns.
Chapter Twenty-seven
“John’s dead?” Alexa had trouble comprehending Jim’s statement.
Melissa caught Alexa just as her knees buckled. “Let’s go sit down. Jim can tell you what happened.”
For a moment, Alexa still couldn’t process what Jim had just told her. “John’s dead? I just spoke to him this morning.”
Tears gathered in Jim’s eyes. “I can’t believe it either, and I saw it happen.”
Seeing the stalwart forest ranger break down made his words real. “How?” Alexa cried. “What happened? An accident?”
“Why don’t we go inside, and I can tell you everything,” Jim said as he and Melissa shuffled Alexa up the stairs and onto the deck. At the front door, Alexa reached into her pocket and handed the forest ranger the key. Scout rushed to get a drink of water while the three humans went into the living room.
Alexa felt numb as she crumpled into the big couch. “You were just going out there to take photos.”
“We were. John and I drove out to that place we found last weekend. As we walked down the path, we noticed broken-off trees and tire tracks. It looked like a vehicle had been there since Saturday. When we got to the top of the ridge, we heard engine noise and realized someone was working the site below. We tried to phone it in; neither of us had cell reception. We debated about going back and calling for backup. But John worried we would lose them if we left. It looked like they were finishing up for the day.
“So we decided to confront them. From what we could tell there were just two guys, working out of a big utility truck. They had set up more of those gauge things that measure seismic activity. We drew our guns and walked down the hill, John on the left and me on the right. I don’t think they saw us coming at first. They were packing shovels in the truck and getting ready to leave. The driver opened the door and climbed into the truck. That’s when he noticed John.
“John yelled, ‘Stop. State police.’ But the driver screamed at the other guy to get in the truck. I ran toward the vehicle, but the driver gunned the motor and headed straight at John. He was less than six feet away by that time. John tried to jump out of the way. I got off some shots, but I hit the rear of the truck. It was moving so fast.
“John stumbled and the truck accelerated.” Jim shuddered. “That bastard plowed right over him. And he just kept going. I got off another couple of shots, but the truck bounced like crazy going up the hill. I was more concerned about John.” He looked down at his hands and then back up at Alexa. “He was dead when I got there. My God, it was terrible.” Melissa hugged Jim as he broke into sobs. “I’m so sorry, Alexa.”
“It’s not your fault, Jim,” Alexa said as she wrapped a throw around her shoulders. She couldn’t get warm.
The group sat in stunned silence. Alexa felt numb with shock. When the lane buzzer rang, Melissa jumped at the sound. “This could be Graham. I called him when I heard what happened.”
Alexa rose when Graham walked through the door. He rushed across the room and folded his sister into his arms. “What a hell of a thing to happen. I can’t believe John is gone. How are you holding up?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled into his shoulder. And then, like a dam bursting, Alexa wept. Melissa began to cry too. When Alexa let go of Graham, she stumbled back to the couch, saying, “I can’t believe it.”
Melissa wiped her eyes and said, “I’m going to make some tea. Or do you want something stronger?”
Jim and Graham opted for a beer. Melissa made a pot of tea for the two women. Then she retrieved a plastic container of homemade chicken noodle soup from the car and heated it on the stove.
“I don’t think I can eat.” Alexa waved away the soup but managed to down a few bites.
Jim recounted the circumstances of John’s death to Graham. Then he went on to describe what had happened next. “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but I had to leave John’s body there and get help. I ran back up the hill and drove out to the main road. I feared those bastards had disabled the SUV, but I guess they were only interested in getting as far away as possible. I called it in on the radio as soon as I could get reception. Then I went back to wait with John.” Jim’s voice was desolate.
Graham asked, “Did the utility vehicle have company markings?”
“No. It was plain white. No markings. I got the first three numbers of the license, but I’m not sure what state. Not Pennsylvania. Mud covered most of the plate.”
“That type of truck can’t be that common,” Graham suggested. “And it might be damaged. Maybe the cops can trace it. Or that equipment they installed in the ground.”
Alexa let the conversation wash over her. She felt like she was caught in a bad dream. That none of this was real. At one point she gathered enough energy to ask, “What about John’s parents? Should I call them? Do they know?”
Jim sighed. “One of the state cops took responsibility for notifying them as next of kin. The big guy with a shaved head. Cannon, right? I told them I would break the news to you.”
“I can’t imagine what this will do to his family. John was their pride and joy. First Taylor to go to college. He’s their only son. He has a sister who lives up near the parents’ farm in the State College area.”
Melissa cleaned up the half-eaten bowls of chicken noodle soup and fed Scout. “I can stay here with you tonight,” she told Alexa.
“No. Jim needs you.” Alexa turned to Melissa’s boyfriend. “I can’t imagine how you’re still functioning after all of this. You lost a good friend today, right in front of your eyes. Even though you couldn’t save John, you tried. Duty and honor were important to him, and you did your best to meet that obligation. He would have been proud of you.”
“I just wish I could have nailed that driver before he hit John. We underestimated the situation. It all happened so damn fast.”
“You two go home. Leave one of the cars here and collect it tomorrow.” Graham took charge. “Kate and I already decided I’m spending the night here. We don’t want Alexa to be alone tonight.”
When Jim and Melissa left, Graham fussed over his little sister, offering more food, a blanket, a box of Kleenex.
“No, just sit with me. Thanks for staying.” Alexa gave her brother a wan smile.
“Kate wanted to be here, but we couldn’t get a sitter on such short notice.”
“Of course. The kids need her at home.”
“The state police will pull out all of the stops to find these animals who ran John down. They don’t rest when it’s one of their own.”
Alexa dabbed at her eyes. “John’s still gone. Finding his killer won’t bring him back. Don’t get me wrong. I want these assholes caught and nailed to the wall for what they did. John is―was―such a good man.”
“I didn’t know him all that well, but I admired him.” Graham smiled. “The best testament to John is that you loved him. That says a lot to me.”
“But I didn’t really.” Alexa whispered, wringing her hands.
“What?”
Alexa burst into tears again. “I feel like such a fraud, Graham. If John had made it back here tonight, I was going to break up with him.”
Graham looked startled. “Seriously? Kate and I expected to hear about an engagement any day now. But you were going to end things?” His eyes narrowed. “Did he do something to hurt you?”
“Nothing like that. As far I as could tell, John loved me heart and soul. But I didn’t love h
im. Not enough. And I couldn’t keep up the charade any longer. I had worked up my courage to end things. Tonight.”
“Wow.” Graham sat still as if assessing this surprise. “Well, I guess it’s good he didn’t know. He died thinking you loved him.”
“I guess.” Alexa sank back into the cushions, wracked with guilt. Died. Dead. She felt like she’d killed John with her cold, screwed-up heart. And now she’d never get a chance to make it right.
Chapter Twenty-eight
The next week passed in a blur. After a long weekend alone with her agonizing thoughts, Alexa decided to return to work. Her irrational guilt over John’s death could only be held at bay by keeping busy.
Although spring continued to unfold around her, Alexa was oblivious. Seeing fly fishermen standing thick in the Yellow Breeches Creek made Alexa burst into tears. John should have been among them, using one of the colorful flies he’d spent hours tying. But she barely registered the other signs of the season. The Phoebe building a nest in its annual spot by the laundry room brought her no pleasure. She ignored the patch of bright violet and yellow crocuses by the front steps. Even her mother’s arrival from Italy did little to stir Alexa from her funk. Four gloomy days of steady rain mirrored her dull mood.
The following Saturday brought John’s funeral. Susan Williams drove Alexa north to State College for the service. Jim and Melissa took Tyrell and one of John’s fishing buddies in their car.
“Mom, I don’t know what to say to his parents. Mrs. Taylor was so broken up when I spoke to her on the phone, it didn’t really matter what I said. But how can I face them today?”
“Lexie, you’ve got to get out of your own way on this. I know you’re grief-stricken. You may not have wanted to spend the rest of your life with John, but I know you cared about him. You are not responsible for his death,” Susan counseled.
Dead of Spring: An Alexa Williams Novel Page 20