The Way of Women

by Lauraine Snelling

  “You are not alone.” Her voice came gently across the void.

  “Feels that way, though my mind knows differently. I cannot bear the thought of …” She sucked on her bottom lip, teeth worrying the tender flesh.

  “You needn’t bear it.”

  “I know, think of something else, others who are worse off than I …”

  “I only know one way, and that is Jesus. His name is the most powerful word in our world. I say His name, over and over, whenever things get so heavy and deep I cannot bear them. I say that name above all names until I can sing it. Only one word, easy to remember.”

  “You make it sound so simple.”

  “Simple but never easy.” She took Katheryn’s hands in her own, hands knobbed by arthritis and softened by love. “I’ll be praying for you.”

  And Katheryn, looking deep into the faded eyes, knew she would. “Thank you. I hope He hears you better than He hears me.”

  “Oh, He hears you, all right.” Attie’s fingers caressed Katheryn’s cheek, feather light and burning deep. “You listen and look. He’s here.”

  “Mrs. Hartwell, could you take Adolf out of the cage, please. He’s lonesome,” one of the children pleaded.

  “Why, yes, I’ll do that.” Attie stood and laid a hand on Katheryn’s shoulder. “You want to come meet my friend?”

  “I’d love to, but I need to go call my son and daughter. Another time, perhaps.”

  The older woman traipsed across the room to show off the bird to the children. Katheryn didn’t have to wait to use the phone. It seemed like the shelter wasn’t nearly as full as it had been the day before. Perhaps some of these people have found their loved ones, she thought. Oh God, let me be one of them.

  “Hi, Mom. What have you heard?”

  “Nothing. Not a thing.”

  “How about if I come down there so you can come home?”

  Home, her yard, her office, an empty house. “Thanks, but I’ll stay. I’ve met a young mother and her little girl. At least I can help someone here. They need me. And besides, I might hear something anytime.”

  “We need you too, you know.”

  She could hear the gruff fight against tears in his voice. “Lucky knows something is wrong; she’s under my feet every minute.”

  “Poor girl. Give her an extra treat.”

  “She misses you. Grandma’s called half a million times. Can’t you call her?”

  “I will, tomorrow. It’s too late now.” She’s the last person I want to talk to. Besides, what can I tell her—nothing. And right now, I don’t want to hear about Bernie. I just cannot handle one more thing.

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. ’Night. I love you, son.”

  “I love you too, Mom. Come home soon.”

  He sounded more like six than twenty-four. Katheryn turned from the phone and went back to retrieve her things. The noise echoing off the walls made her head ache.

  That does it. I’m going for earplugs.

  When she returned from a drugstore near the hospital, she put the soft foam forms in her ears and, taking out pad and pen, tried to write.

  Brandy would not play. The dialogue was stilted, no action and humor, what a joke. She’d do better to write a murder scene. Not for a children’s book, that was for sure.

  As soon as they dimmed the lights, she left off adding up her checkbook and slid under the covers. Be grateful you have a bed, she reminded herself. Would someone please take care of that baby? David, where are you? God, where are You?

  MAY 20, 1980

  You look like death warmed over.”

  “Glad I can’t say the same for you.” Frank stared at her through eyes glazed by only two hours sleep, and that on the cot in his office. Never had he seen such confusion as in the three days since the mountain blew. Three counties involved, with all their services, National Guard, state government, private companies, and people taking things into their own hands to search for survivors, pets, livestock, family keepsakes. Besides all the activity of a mountain that could blow again at any moment and a debris dam at Spirit Lake that threatened more death and destruction.

  “Been bad, huh?”

  “You can’t begin to know the half of it. I hear you’re helping Mrs. Sedor.”

  Jenn nodded. “How about that cup of coffee I promised you?”

  “Now?”

  “I’d say we both could use one.”

  “We’d better take my car. Sig doesn’t like pickups. We’d crowd him.”

  “You aren’t on duty?”

  “I’m supposed to be going home to sleep.”

  “I’ll take a rain check, then. Get some rest.”

  “No. You can leave your truck there in the public parking lot.”

  This time Sig greeted her with a slight wag of his tail and no lip lifting.

  “He likes you. Backseat, Sig.”

  “I like him. One of these days he may even let me pet him.” She slung her backpack in first and climbed in the Blazer. The odor of alcohol made her wrinkle her nose. “You keep it with you, eh?”

  Frank started the engine and slammed the truck into reverse, rear wheels spitting gravel. “Anybody ever tell you to mind your own business?”

  She stared at him as he checked both ways for traffic. Bloodshot eyes, new creases on top of old, slightly gray around the gills, and in the close confines, she could smell the booze on him too. The old adage, rode hard and put away wet, would be a compliment to the condition he was in.

  “How about I drive you home?”

  His jaw tightened. “Coffee or nothing.”

  Jenn nodded. “Pigheaded as ever.”

  “Jenn, I’m too tired to argue or play games. Now, can I have the coffee without a sermon or not?”

  “Guess if you want to crucify or kill yourself, that’s up to you. Huh, Sig?”

  She turned enough to look over her shoulder at the dog, who looked back, tongue lolling and the tip of his tail brushing the seat. “You know, you are one handsome fella.”

  Both ears pricked, he stared at her.

  “I swear he understands every word I say.”

  “Not only what you say, but he reads your body language, your scent, and most likely knows what you had for breakfast too.”

  “His sense of smell is that good? Even if I haven’t had breakfast?”

  “Yes.” He flicked on his turn signal.

  “How long you had him?”

  “Five years. He was a year when I got him.” He parked his truck and opened the door. “You coming?”

  When she reached for her backpack, he added, “You don’t need that in the restaurant.”

  “You never know.” She slung it over her shoulder. “See ya, Sig.”

  Frank slid into a booth and waved away a menu. “The usual.”

  “Thank you.” Jenn accepted hers and took the seat opposite. “What’s the usual?”

  “Two eggs over easy, burn the bacon and hash browns, wheat toast.” The waitress’s badge read ROSIE. “Oh, and an entire carafe of coffee. The blacker the better.”

  Frank set his broad-brimmed hat on the seat beside him and slicked his hair back with both hands.

  “You look God-awful, Frank.” Rosie plunked the carafe on the table.

  “And a happy day to you, too.”

  “Not too many having happy days around here. Some guys came in, can’t get their ships out, real unhappy campers.” Rosie shook her head. “Ships, loggers, sportsmen, you oughta hear them complaining. You’d think The Lady did this just to spite them.”

  “Going to be months before they can dredge the Columbia, let alone the Cowlitz. Those rivers still so hot the fish’ve jumped up on the banks to cool off.”

  Jenn looked up at him in surprise. Was Frank McKenzie always this friendly with this waitress? Of course, she did know him by name, so he must come in here a lot. Now, why can he be pleasant with her and such a bear with a sore paw at me? Jenn schooled her face to keep any such thoughts inside where they belonged. Fran
k meant nothing more to her than an old friend, and sometimes she wondered if her memories hadn’t happened to someone else. Be fair, she told herself. He has taken you into some places you wouldn’t have gotten otherwise. I know, and he’s been through about the worst any human can endure but …

  A hand waved in front of her face. “You still in there, squirt?”

  His voice had softened, and was that concern she saw in his eyes?

  “Frank, how do you deal with all this, like yesterday?”

  “At the morgue?”

  She nodded and lifted the carafe to refill his cup.

  “Thanks.” He studied the coffee, as if seeking knowledge. “That was a bad one. We couldn’t show her, but that corpse was so cooked from the heat of the river that we had parts of it in separate body bags. That we could find. Someone saw the head and shoulder, called us, and we dug it out.” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “And you wonder why I hit the bottle sometimes. Lord, Jenn, I …” He took a slug of coffee. “That poor woman, little girl so sick, and now this. I don’t know. After all this is over, I might just get another job.”

  Her hand ached to touch his. As if separated from her body and with a mind of its own, it inched across the table and stroked the base of his thumb, then curled around his wrist.

  “Here you go, folks.” Rosie set their plates in front of them. “Get you anything else?”

  Jenn shook her head. “No, thanks.” The heat of her hand surprised her. “Mom said if I saw you to let her know when you can come for dinner.”

  “I wish I knew.” He basted his hash browns with ketchup and held the bottle up.

  “No, thanks. I like my food naked.”

  His arched eyebrow brought heat to her neck. “Frank McKenzie, keep your mind on your meal. That’s just a figure of speech.”

  “Not from around here. That the kind of thing you learned in New York.” He put a slur on the name of the city.

  “The city was good to me.” For a while, she finished the sentence silently.

  His snort more than conveyed his opinion.

  She ate a few bites in silence, listening to the discussion going on in the booth behind her.

  “Well, look who’s here.” A familiar voice brought her back to the moment. “The ice queen herself.”

  “Gee, Sergeant, how nice to see you.”

  Frank swallowed a chuckle. “Ross, how’s it goin’? Got enough to keep you busy?”

  “McKenzie, you heard the latest report on that sediment dam?”

  “Seems to me they ought to see if they can siphon off some of the pressure.”

  “As if we could get up there without getting someone else killed, let alone any machinery in. You been up in any of the choppers?”

  “No. I leave that for the rescue boys. I got enough to keep me at a dead gallop without tryin’ to do someone else’s job.”

  Mitch turned back to Jenn. “I haven’t forgotten my promise to take you up again, soon as I can get in the air.”

  Jenn rolled her eyes at the black look on Frank’s face. “Sure, thanks, Mitch.”

  “Good to see you.” Mitch nodded to each of them and left.

  “You really would go up with him?”

  “Frank McKenzie, I’d go up with the devil himself if he would take me closer to the mountain.”

  Frank threw some bills on the table and stood at the same time, grabbing his hat. His mutter included some words he had castigated her for using back when she was a teenager.

  Guess he thinks I’m adult enough to hear them now. Her thought made her roll her lips to hide the grin. She grabbed her backpack and followed him out the door that he didn’t bother to hold for her. Some things never changed.

  MAY 21, 1980

  Coffee’s hot!” The raucous cry of the parrot worked like reveille.

  “Coffee’s hot!”

  Katheryn lay in her cot, listening to the sounds of the shelter around her. At least the baby had cried only briefly during the night. Perhaps the young mother was coping better, or someone else had taken charge for the peace of those sleeping. Whichever, it was one small thing to be thankful for. Nevertheless, the nightmares that she’d ridden during the darkest hours still galloped in her mind. The ride started with watching David and Brian make camp under the whispering fir trees. They’d gone fishing and caught enough trout for dinner. Sunday morning they’d fished again as the sun was rising to cast a yellow glow through the majestic trees, catching glints thrown by the cascading creek. So many times she’d been getting the fire ready to fry the fish in cornmeal and bacon grease. Nothing tasted better in the world. But the world turned dark, the blast, the heat, the fires, hot gases that sucked out life, and floods, and …

  She sniffed the welcome fragrance of coffee brewing. Adolf was right. She reached for her wrapper and, sitting, shoved her hands in the sleeves.

  Another day, more waiting. How easy it would be, if she were at home, to crawl back under the covers and sleep.

  Except for the horrible dreams.

  Making her way to the rest room and shower, bag in hand, she returned the greetings of those around her, waved to Attie, and waited only a minute before a shower was available.

  She’d just turned off the water and reached for her towel when a scream made the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention.

  The woman screamed again, more a shriek this time, and Katheryn could hear the sound of running feet. People shouting.

  Hair streaming wet, she grabbed her wrapper and thrust her wet arms back in the sleeves. Did they need to evacuate the building? Had the mountain blown again? Her heart triple-hammered against the walls of her chest.

  Along with several others in like stages of dishabille, she burst through the doors, only to see some folks standing on tables, others nearly collapsing in laughter as two boys, a little girl, and three men were scrambling about on the floor.

  “What in the world?”

  “Careful, don’t hurt him.”

  “They’re just frightened.”

  “Easy now, throw my hat over him.”

  “Got one. Use the hat again.”

  One boy stood up, something hidden in his closed hands to his chest.

  Katheryn, one hand clutching her wrapper closed at the neck, asked, “What is going on?”

  “My gerbils got loose, and we couldn’t find them.” The boy held out his cupped hands. “You want to see Snitch?”

  “No, that’s all right.” While Katheryn had no fear of fuzzy critters, right now an introduction to the perpetrator of pure fright didn’t appeal.

  “Hope you catch the other one, too.” She returned to brush her teeth and finish dressing, chuckling to herself. A shame Jenn hadn’t been here to catch some pictures of life in the shelter. Surely Snitch and Adolf should be included in her collection.

  Sometime later, after another futile call home again, she walked into the hospital to see how Mellie and Lissa had fared through the night.

  All dressed, Lissa sat in her mother’s lap, alternately eating a Popsicle and pointing out pictures in a book Mellie was holding for her. She waved her Popsicle at Katheryn, smiled, and stuck the purple end back in her mouth.

  “See my new shirt?” She pointed to her chest. “Pink.”

  “Is this the same child we … ah … helped?” Subdued would have been a far more appropriate choice of words, Katheryn knew, but not as polite a term. Besides, hopefully, Lissa didn’t remember the fight to hold her down for the transfusion.

  “Amazing, isn’t it? New blood is a miracle.” Mellie kissed her daughter’s cheek. “We’ll be ready to leave as soon as the nurse returns with the paperwork.”

  “Have you seen Mr. Johnson yet?”

  “No, but I talked to him on the phone. Since he’s on the regular floor, he said they’ve had him up and walking, so he is far better.”

  “I’ll stay with Lissa if you want to go see him.” Mellie looked like she’d had a decent night’s rest too, some color back in her face.r />
  “You look so much better.”

  “The doctor came back and gave me a sedative. I slept in that chair bed. Jenn stayed the night, but she left early this morning. Didn’t realize how tired I was, I guess.” Sadness darkened her eyes again. “So much I need to do, and I don’t know where to begin.”

  “There’s a man downstairs asking about you,” the nurse said when she walked back in the room. “He’s from a timber company. You want me to tell him to come on up?”

  Talk about Bambi in the headlights. Katheryn gave Mellie a reassuring look. “Is that the company your husband worked for?”

  Mellie nodded. “I don’t—I mean—what would he …?”

  “Lissa and I could go down to the playroom so you would have some privacy to talk here. Would you like that, sweetie?” The nurse smiled down at the little girl.

  Lissa looked up to her mother for permission and, at her nod, slid to the floor.

  The nurse took her hand. “I’ll let him know where you are.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You want me to stay with you?” Katheryn asked.

  “Yes, please.” Moment by moment Mellie melted back into the chair, as if hiding. She laced her fingers till they whitened.

  “My advice is, if he asks you to sign anything, tell him you cannot do that right now.”

  “Why? I mean …?” Her face screwed up like a little girl’s.

  “Just to be wise and give us time to read anything over carefully.” Katheryn leaned against the metal bed. “My father taught me that we need to be gentle as doves and wise as serpents.”

  “I … I don’t get it.”

  “I’ll explain later. But don’t sign, okay?”

  “Okay.” Mellie rubbed her forehead. “I … I can’t do this. Harv …”

  Katheryn was sure she could read her mind. Total fear and panic because she depended completely on her husband.

  “Mrs. Sedor?” The man removed his hat, showing a silver fringe of hair framing a shiny dome. His face bore the weathered look of a man accustomed to the out-of-doors.