“Do you… do you remember me, Dr. Niles?” I asked.
“Of course.” He nodded. “Jo.”
“Dr. Niles, do you have a few seconds, I know it is…”
“Yes.” He answered without hesitation or allowing me to finish. “But call me Tanner.”
“Tanner.” I gave him a peaceful smile. “You seem different today.”
“Yes, well, sometimes things happen that make you think.” He raised his eyebrows.
“Oh, no.” I closed my eyes.
“What?”
“I’m sorry. I am so, so, sorry.” I finally opened my eyes and looked at him. “I am so…”
“Jo, why are you apologizing?”
I took a deep breath. “Yesterday, you went out of your way to correct a wrong. Today, I am here to do the same.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Tanner, I’m sorry. I let you to leave last night without explaining how my husband died. See, there was some trouble, and he tried to stop it. The infection didn’t take his life, Sam was killed. I know you’re probably thinking, ‘OK’, and you probably didn’t give it a second thought. But I couldn’t with a clear conscience…”
“I did.”
“Excuse me?”
“I did think about it. It was on my mind all night,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t apologize. Thank you. Thank you for clearing that up.”
“You’re welcome.”
Tanner nodded. “Well, I’d better…”
“Yes. Work. I’m sorry I kept you.” I started to leave, but stopped. “Tanner? If you ever get a break, and want an escape from this place… you know where I am. Find me. You’re welcome there. I mean it.”
“I’d like that.” Tanner smiled then shifted his eyes down to the clipboard. “Shit. I’m in the wrong row.” He backed up. “I’ll see… I’ll see you soon, Jo.”
About all I had time to do was lift my hand in a wave. Tanner had made his way from the row. I felt better about it all. About walking to the station, finding Tanner, clearing the air. With a feeling of resolution, I took a step back, turned to leave and nearly shrieked in surprise when a hand slammed down and grabbed my wrist.
It wasn’t a soldier that snatched hold of me; it was a patient on a cot. Slowing my rapid heartbeat, I glanced to the fingers with the chipped mauve nail polish. They gripped tight to my skin with amazing strength, nearly cutting off all circulation. “Do you need…” I started to ask but then I noticed. The hand of the woman was the only portion of her arm that wasn’t burnt. As my eyes scanned her arm, the burns worsened, going from purple and bleeding, to black. The sight of the woman horrified and sickened me. My heart ached. There was a blanket; it came to only her waist. Her entire torso was exposed, and if it weren’t for the nail polish, I wouldn’t have known she was a woman. Her chest was severely burned, a portion of her lower ribcage protruded, and it appeared as if her breasts had begun to char off. I saw her other arm, it was fine. Not a scratch on it. Part of her neck was unscathed as well. “You poor thing, do you…”
When I saw her face, I froze. A lump big enough to choke me formed in my throat.
Muffled, yet interpretable she peeped out in pain, “Jo… help me.”
“Oh, my God.” Though one entire half of her face was burnt beyond recognition, the other half allowed me to discover her identity. “Hebba.”
16. Decisions
I sobbed. Plain and simply, no other way to put it, I sobbed. Halfway home, I had to stop. Weakened, my body did not want to move, I couldn’t think, everything swarmed, I sat down, buried my face in my hands, and I broke. I stayed there too, in Rod’s comforting silence, until I was able to continue on.
What occurred in the rescue station was more of a shock than I was able to bear. I hid it well, and stayed strong. For Hebba’s sake I couldn’t let her see how much the sight of her was killing me. I held her hand, huddled close, told her everything would be all right, and that I would go get Burke, immediately I would get him.
I was able to catch Tanner’s attention, telling him I had found my friend, or rather my friend found me. He took the time to help move Hebba’s cot off to the side, and then Tanner did the best he could and gave her something for the pain.
He said, “Give it a few minutes, Jo, it should work. Hopefully. It’s all we have.”
Hebba clutched tightly to my hand, squeezing with every wave of pain she experienced, crying my name out, crying for help that I could not give. I stayed there and assured her that I would be back with Burke.
I couldn’t wait to leave the tent. Not because I wanted to leave Hebba, but because it was far too much to handle. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would feel that way. Pity, sorrow, heartache, all for a woman whom two weeks earlier rubbed everyone the wrong way. But nothing… nothing Hebba ever did warranted the torture she was going through. It was wrong and unfair. Had she been that way for two weeks? How in the world Hebba survived was inconceivable. Perhaps she held on, fought tooth and nail with the fire and strength she had, just to stay alive until she was found. The pain and agony she endured made my pain and agony seem miniscule. The entire situation brought to light a selfishness I didn’t even know I had. The simple fact that I stood not one foot from her and didn’t know she was there, said it all. I didn’t see her. In fact, I didn’t see anyone in that tent or around me. Maybe because the people in that tent, and in the camp, weren’t part of my world. I saw them as two different entities. But all of that changed in an instant. It hit me like a sledgehammer, and it was too much for me to take. The second Hebba fell asleep, I fled from the tent. I ran, not only until Rod caught up to me, but until it all caught up to me.
Huddled on the ground, my floodgates opened. My body shook, and the tears flowed from me. I cried, not just for Hebba, but for everything. For Sam, my family, those I knew that were lost, and for those I didn’t know. There weren’t enough tears to wash away all the pain, and all the wrong. There would never be enough tears.
‘An old man from down the street, stopped by for a cup of water.’ Those were the words Davy greeted me with when I returned to the shelter. Then I guess he looked at me and saw my face.
“Mom? You OK?”
To say I was dazed would be an understatement. “Yes, where’s Burke?”
“Outside with Craig,” Davy answered. “Anyhow, the old man stopped for water, and wanted to trade for a can of soup. Dan said not to, but I gave him water. Was that OK?”
“Yes,” I nodded. “Burke’s outside?” I pointed backwards with my thumb, then turned to go up the steps.
“Mom? Did you hear me?”
Irritated, I spun around. “Davy! Right now I have more important things to worry about than some old…” I stopped speaking when I heard my own words. “Davy, was he alone?”
“When he came here?” Davy asked then nodded. “Yes.”
“Why don’t you take Dan and see if you can find him. See if he’s OK, if he needs anything, and if he wants to join us.”
Dan immediately jumped from behind his curtain. “I object to that. First, we don’t need any strangers. Second, I don’t want to go out there, tell Davy to take Rod.”
I wasn’t in the mood to argue, however I did sound irritated when I spoke. “Rod just came back, and this is my home, Dan. I can invite whomever I want. OK? Davy, take Rod instead.”
Rod raised his hand, “May I take a valium first?”
“No. No drugs.” I instructed, then again, tried to go up the steps.
Nicky and my daughter had unofficially created the ‘quiet club’, so when either one of them talked, it drew attention. From behind a partition, Nicky walked out and spoke, “Can I go with him, Jo?” she asked. “I need to do something positive. That would be positive.”