Chasing the Wind

by Patricia H. Rushford

“So am I.” James scooped his wife up in his arms and, after kissing her soundly and relishing the feel of her against him, settled her on her kitchen chair.

  “I’ve missed you.” James planted another kiss on her pixie nose. She’d been asleep when he’d come home the night before and again this morning.

  “I missed you too. I tried to stay awake.”

  “You need your rest. But I’m home now. At least for an hour or so.” He told her about Anabelle’s phone party and invitation.

  “I’d love to go.”

  He laughed. “You don’t even know what it’s for.”

  “You can tell me. But it doesn’t matter. I’d love to see Anabelle and the others.”

  “I’m glad you’re up to it. But we’ll need to leave for home by at least eight thirty. I have a ton of laundry to do, and we need to have that talk about Gideon’s future.”

  “Good.”

  “So how was your day?” James asked.

  “Nice. I didn’t do anything.” She laughed.

  “That’s great. We could all use days like that sometimes.”

  She reached for him and he paused to let her hold him. “My poor James. You look so tired. I wish I could help.”

  “You just did.” He chuckled. “And when we get home from Anabelle’s you can help me even more by letting me rest my head on your lap while we talk.”

  “Deal.”

  She seemed in a better mood today than the last few days. Maybe she was going into another remission. He hoped that was the case. “Were you planning something special for dinner? Anabelle wants to do potluck.”

  “Just salad. I took some shrimp out to defrost and boiled a few eggs.”

  “Mmm. A shrimp salad sounds perfect. I’ll pull some sourdough bread out of the freezer. Do we have olives?” James chuckled. “I guess I should ask myself that.”

  While he packed the food for the potluck, James told Fern about Dr. Hamilton’s refusal to take it easy.

  “Oh, James. I know how he feels. It’s so hard to give up. I still find myself pushing to do more than I should.”

  “We need him to know that we want him around a long time.” He double-bagged the shrimp and set it in the cooler along with the dressing and greens. “Anyway, we came up with a plan.” James told her about the Parade of Patients and how they and Genna were going to call past patients and elicit the help of the Quilting Guild to put their plan into action.

  “What a wonderful idea.” Fern’s eyes lit up. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “I’m sure Anabelle will welcome the help.”

  James put a load of laundry in the washer, and after he took a shower, they departed for Anabelle and Cameron’s home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ANABELLE SAW THE LAST OF HER GUESTS LEAVE at nine, and that was Genna. The evening had been a great deal of fun. They’d eaten well and ultimately tallied 110 people who wanted to participate in the Parade of Patients. She had worn herself out playing hostess and making calls, but she relished the feeling. The night had been a success by every measure.

  By 9:20 PM, she kissed Cameron and told him she was going to bed early. The entire week had been exhausting; part of it, she knew, was from worrying over Drew.

  “We’ll need to get things organized early tomorrow morning if we plan to implement the Parade of Patients this weekend.”

  Cameron hugged her. “It’s a good thing you’re doing, luv. I hope the doc appreciates it.”

  “Oh, he will.” Anabelle drew in a deep breath and leaned into her husband’s strong arms. She was so tired, she could have fallen asleep right there with her head against his chest.

  He chuckled and, with hands on her shoulders, set her upright and turned her around. “Do you need me to carry you to bed?”

  She turned back around and kissed his cheek. “I think I can make it from here.”

  “I’ll be in shortly. There are severe thunderstorm warnings for the area, and I’d like to see what they’re predicting for us.”

  Anabelle didn’t really want to know. Just the same, the weather managed to announce its plans just shortly after she fell asleep. She awoke to lightning so bright it lit up the entire room, and then thunder that rattled the windowpanes.

  “Cam?” She bolted up in bed and reached for Cameron, but he wasn’t there. The red numbers on her alarm radio read 10:00 just before blinking off. Something hard slammed onto the roof. Anabelle yelped.

  The terrifying noise increased with intensity. She ducked under the covers. Then she saw a flickering light from the hallway and Cameron was at her side. He set the lantern he’d brought on the bedside table. “It’s all right, luv. Just a bit of hail.”

  “Hail? A bit? It sounds like bombs.”

  The large window shattered and a hailstone the size of a baseball bounced on the floor. Then came another and another.

  He held her close. “We’d best go downstairs where we’ll be safe. Those stones are the biggest I’ve ever seen.”

  Cameron went out to his workshop and found a plywood sheet to board up the window upstairs. Anabelle waited, her fear lessening and turning more toward worry. She prayed her children would be safe and that Hope Haven, their staff and the patients staying there would not sustain damage.

  For the next half hour they huddled together on the couch in the living room. The two of them prayed for safety for their family and for the town. Anabelle offered up special prayers for the patients.

  “I hate to see what our poor town will look like in the morning.”

  “I can tell you right now, luv, it won’t be pretty.”

  James joined Fern and Sapphire on the couch when they arrived home from the Scotts’. It was still early, but he was too tired to do much more than put another load in the washer. He was glad he’d taken Fern to Anabelle’s. The calling party had been fun and they’d accomplished the calls in short order.

  He stretched out on the sofa, pillowing his head on Fern’s lap. Fern had softened some toward Gideon’s plan to join the ROTC but that was about it. “I don’t want him in the military.” She sighed. “I know it’s honorable; but James, I would be so sick with worry. He’s our son.”

  “I know.” James felt a certain pride in having served his country. Did he want to deprive his son of that honor? “We need to sit down and talk with him. See if he wants to consider other options and find out what he really wants to do.” He told her about Gideon’s maturity in dealing with Tucker and his family.

  “He’s a good boy, James.”

  James couldn’t have agreed more. They sat in silence until James eventually drifted off.

  The next thing he knew, he was awakened by a loud crash and what sounded like bullets raining down on the roof.

  James sat up, confused. The darkened living room came into focus as his brain gave up the remnants of a military battle.

  Breaking glass and a scream from the upstairs bedroom sent James’s heart to pounding even harder and his feet racing up to their bedroom. In the darkness he stumbled twice as he groped his way along the stair railing.

  “Me-o-o-ow.” Sapphire flew down the stairs almost colliding with him.

  “Honey, are you okay?” He felt his way to the bed where Fern lay huddled under the covers. James sat on the bed to comfort her as he peered into the darkness.

  “What’s happening?” Fern clutched at the front of his shirt.

  “It’s a hailstorm.” As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see glass covering the floor near the window and the blinds twisted as the hail pelted at them.

  He reached for the bedside table and fumbled in the drawer for the flashlight he kept there. James flipped it on and walked around the bed to assess the damage. He took one look at the size of the hailstones and backed away from the window. He wouldn’t attempt to do any repairing until the pounding hail stopped.

  “Let’s go downstairs where we’ll be safe.” James gently picked her up and headed for the staircase. He glanced down the hall surprised th
e boys weren’t up. Seeing their open doors, he nearly panicked. “Where are the boys?”

  “I don’t know. You fell asleep and I came upstairs to read. I fell asleep too.”

  “They should have been home around nine.” James checked his watch. It was 10:05 PM, which meant Gideon and Nelson had most likely been on their way home when the storm hit. Not wanting to frighten Fern, he said, “They must have taken shelter somewhere.”

  They descended the stairs, and James set Fern on the sofa and tucked a soft fleece throw around her. “Will you be okay here while I check the rest of the house?”

  “I’m okay now.”

  “Hopefully it will end soon.” With the upper floor for insulation, the hail sounded less intense than it had upstairs. Still, James could only imagine how much damage this storm would leave in its path.

  “Be careful.” Fern reached an arm toward him.

  “I will.” He kissed her forehead and slipped on his sandals.

  James paced around the house. The eaves were protecting the windows on the lower floor, but he heard another crash upstairs. He raced up to the second floor and checked the other bedrooms. One of Nelson’s windows had been smashed. James closed the bedroom doors and went back down to sit with Fern.

  With the giant hailstones still bashing the house, James felt helpless. There was nothing he could do but wait for the storm to pass and hope for the best. With the entire neighborhood in darkness, James gathered up several candles and, after lighting them, placed them where they’d be needed: the kitchen, living room and bathroom.

  Though only a few minutes passed as they sat huddled together on the sofa, to James it seemed like hours. He remembered all too clearly holing up in bunkers with bombs falling. James tried to wipe the horror of war from his mind and focus on praying for Gideon and Nelson.

  The bombardment finally lessened at 10:45 PM and then stopped altogether.

  He took hold of Fern’s hand. “I need to get to the hospital. I have no doubt we’re looking at a serious situation.”

  “What about the boys?” Fern tightened her grip.

  “I’ll look for them on the way.” James prayed they’d found shelter. “They’re smart kids. I’m sure they’re okay.”

  Before leaving, he brought her pillow downstairs and tucked her in, then brought her a glass of water and made certain she had her cell phone so she could call him if necessary—if and when the phones were working again. He doubted she’d sleep. He would try to call her parents from the hospital to check on her.

  “Cam, I’ll need to get to the hospital right away.” Knowing Hope Haven would be getting a large number of victims from the storm, Anabelle felt the sooner she got there the better.

  “I know, luv. As soon as it’s safe. I’ll take you over in the truck.”

  When the hail subsided, the two went upstairs where Anabelle shrugged into her blue scrubs and nursing shoes, then grabbed a lab jacket that bore her name badge.

  Cameron put on jeans and work boots. “I’ll load tools and some emergency supplies in the truck.”

  Anabelle took a moment to check the bedrooms for damage. Several more windows were shattered. Those would have to be dealt with later. Right now, they had to help wherever help was needed. There would be injuries to people caught out in the storm, car accidents, fallen branches and broken windows. Anabelle prayed there would be no fatalities. In Deerford, they were used to thunder and hail, but Anabelle had never seen hailstones like this.

  She doused the lantern and hurried out to the garage. The hail had stopped, but the storm was far from over. Cameron maneuvered the truck out of the garage and into a deluge. With power outages, they had only headlights to guide them to the hospital. Once they reached the main road, they could see emergency vehicles already responding. They stopped at a roadblock when a police officer stopped them.

  Cam rolled down his window. “I need to get my wife to the hospital.”

  “Is she injured?”

  Anabelle leaned over to speak to him and show her badge. “I’m a nurse.”

  “Then you’ll want to detour around to Oak Avenue. We have a big pileup on Cahokia.”

  “Thanks, we’ll do that.” Cameron rolled up the window.

  At the hospital, the emergency generator had kicked in. The lights made Hope Haven a beacon, drawing people to help and safety.

  Even though Anabelle had been familiar with the hospital’s disaster drill, she was glad Albert had brought everyone up to date.

  “I’ll drop you off at the emergency entrance,” Cam said, “then I’ll check on the girls and Evan. There are a lot of windows to be boarded up and repairs to be made. I’ll see if I can get some crews together. The men’s fellowship at church will be a good place to start.” Cameron seemed to be talking to himself now. “Call Al and get the lumberyard open.”

  While Cam went on with his list, they passed several accidents and downed power lines, a fallen tree. The chaos from the streets filled her with apprehension and Anabelle took several deep breaths to calm herself. She didn’t want her husband out working in this storm. But as with her, there was really no choice.

  Cameron stopped the car and leaned over to kiss her good-bye. Anabelle grasped his hand. “Be careful.”

  “You too.” He waited until she’d reached and opened the ER door before taking off.

  Though Anabelle wanted to run upstairs to check on her own unit, her first priority was to help with patients who were already streaming into the ER.

  Dr. Weller, an ER doctor, had begun triaging and giving orders. He tagged each of them according to their degree of injury—with red being the highest and white being the lowest—in an effort to get to the patients with the greatest needs and point them in the direction they needed to go.

  She approached him to let him know she’d arrived.

  He looked frantic. “Thank God you’re here. If you could take over triage, I can get to the worst cases. Right now, I’m the only doctor here.”

  Gurneys already lined the hallway, and people who could still get around on their own crowded the waiting room. They could have used at least a dozen more doctors and nurses. The small ER staff had been bolstered by the swing-shift staff.

  Anabelle forced herself to get a grip. No point in wishing for what they didn’t have. She needed to focus on what they did have and work within those boundaries. Her mother had often told her that when things looked overwhelming and she felt she was on a narrow precipice, to not look down. To just take one step at a time knowing God would be with her. Looking down only led to panic. And Anabelle was very close to the edge.

  James donned a yellow rain slicker and black boots before heading into the downpour. He drove slowly through the pounding rain, sheets of water slamming across the windshield. He doubted he’d be able to recognize Gideon’s car if it did pass by. He made it to the light on Whittington Street before coming across an accident. His headlights outlined two damaged vehicles, but no emergency vehicle.

  He pulled over and stepped out of the car into the driving rain. Sweeping his flashlight over the area, he could see the front car had been crushed by a nearby tree branch. He surmised that the second car had rear-ended the first one. He could make out someone in the passenger seat of both cars.

  James sprinted across the road. “Is everyone all right here?” James called out. “Anyone need help?”

  “Over here.” A man waved at James from the sidewalk next to the rear car. “My wife’s legs are pinned under the dash.”

  James shined his flashlight into the car. The woman was sobbing. “Help me, please.”

  Her husband ran a hand through his sopping hair. “I tried calling 9-1-1, but we can’t get a reliable cell phone signal.”

  “What’s your name?” The cut on his hand looked superficial. James would deal with that later.

  “Hank Garrett. This is Lisa.”

  James nodded and turned to Hank’s wife. “Okay, ma’am. I’m a nurse, and I’m going to try to help you.
Are you hurt anywhere else?” James shone the light into her terror-stricken eyes. Her face bore residue powder from the deflated air bags, which gave her a ghoulish look.

  “N-no,” she stammered. “I don’t think so.”

  He examined her legs, which both seemed to be pinned tightly between the seat and the dash. “Do you have any feeling in your feet and legs?”

  “Yes,” she gasped. “It hurts so much. I can’t move.”

  He saw no signs of heavy bleeding, but suspected one or both legs might be broken. “Okay, Lisa. Here’s what I need you to do. Hold on to your husband’s hand and try to relax. We’ll get a rescue team here, and they’ll be able to free you.” James hoped that would be the case.

  He turned to the husband. “Do you have a blanket—something to put over your wife to keep her warm? We want to keep her from going into shock or getting chilled.”

  “There’s one in the backseat. I’ll get it.”

  “All right. I’ll try calling dispatch again. And I need to take a look at these folks in the other car.”

  The man leaned against his car looking as if he needed as much comforting as his wife. “The branch crushed the windshield.”

  James tried his cell, but had no service. He brushed tree limbs aside in an effort to get a closer look at the couple inside the first vehicle. The elderly driver was pressed against the headrest by the windshield. The woman lay in much the same position as the man.

  James pulled away some of the broken glass on the driver’s side window and reached in. He slid his fingers along the carotid artery and breathed in relief as he found a pulse.

  He needed to get help, but couldn’t leave these people alone.

  As if hearing his plea for help, a car’s headlights came toward him. James stepped out into the street and waved his arms.

  The car stopped.

  “Dad!” Gideon leaned out the window. “What are you doing out here?”

  James ran around to the driver’s side door. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see anyone in my life. We have three serious injuries here, and I need medics out here right away. I can’t call anyone.”

  “What can I do?”