No Ordinary Day (16 page)

“Ambulances? Why doesn’t the helicopter just take us all to the hospital?”

Ace didn’t look at her, but instead continued to watch the ground, calculating the size of the flood.

“There’s a lot of demand for the helicopters in town,” he said quietly. “A lot of people need rescuing.”

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be.” It seemed to Lucy that Ace was thinking about saying something else, but the helicopter was already on the farthest side of the high school fields where soccer was played in the fall, lacrosse in the spring, and preparing to set down in a wide, flat space ringed with survivors, teachers, administrators, and parents, the looks on their faces appearing more and more apprehensive as the aircraft descended.

Lucy blinked at the sheer number of rescue vehicles that were ringing or sitting on the fields, from many different companies in the adjoining towns. Five ambulances were standing ready as the copter set down.

“Don’t get out until they tell you,” Ace advised. “Those blades are deadly.”

Lucy, who was preparing to jump out, stopped.

As a deep whine screamed through the air, indicating the blades were slowing, Ace took hold of her arm again. He pointed into the distance.

“Look,” he said.

Waiting anxiously at a distance, accompanied by four soldiers from the National Guard Unit of Saranac Lake, the base where Ace was assigned, was a group of adults standing, singly and in pairs, staring at the opening where Ace and Lucy were now sitting.

Even to Ace, who had never met any of them, it was clear who they were.

The parents of the kids in the chopper.

He leaned closer to her and spoke in her ear.

“You’re about to make all those people happier than they’ve ever been before, ma’am.”

One of the helicopter’s crew gave Ace the nod. He unhooked himself from Lucy for the last time and jumped out of the chopper, then turned and took her by the waist, assisting her out as well.

Then pulled her out of the way of the five teams of medical personnel and the soldiers assigned to them, rushing forward with five gurneys on wheels, making their way to the choppers, fighting with the muddy grass.

Lucy watched, sick to her stomach, as each of the little girls, already swathed in heavy military blankets, was handed out of the helicopter by its crew to the medics, then stretched out onto the gurneys.

One of the anxious mothers consulted with a nearby soldier and then, as he stepped aside, walked quickly forward, carrying a medical bag. Lucy recognized her as Dr. Patricia Byrnes, Corinne’s mother, a well-known and highly respected pediatrician. She breathed a sigh of relief as Dr. Byrnes quickly examined each of the girls, giving instructions to the military medics, and then moved on to another as the children were brought to the ambulances.

“One parent can ride along to the hospital,” a soldier with a bullhorn was announcing to the assembled group of parents who were anxiously watching Dr. Byrnes as she made her assessments. “Once that parent has been determined, please step into the ambulance and move all the way to the seat near the front of the vehicle.
One
parent. No exceptions; sorry, folks.”

As if her legs had a mind of their own, Lucy found herself making her way to the girls’ families who were still waiting for their children to be checked over. She came up to a man in a crisp business suit, slightly balding, whom she recognized at Willis Wallace, Sloane’s father. His family was one of the oldest and richest in West Obergrande.

“Mr. Wallace,” she said quietly, “I’m Lucy Sullivan, Sloane’s teacher.”

At first the man did not seem to hear her, staring as intently as he was at the front of the helicopter. Then, as her words registered, he turned abruptly to her.

“Miss Sullivan? Oh, God, thank you—
thank you
. I heard you went back into the school to get them out. Is she all right?”

Lucy swallowed as the other parents, hearing her name, began crowding around her.

“I believe so,” she said, her teeth still chattering, still shaking from the water and the exposure. “She was so brave—they were all so—brave—”

A cacophony of voices broke out, each of the parents begging for word on their daughters.

Lucy’s head was swimming.

“They—they’re all alive, and mostly just scared, I think—Dr. Byrnes will know more,” she said, taking Professor Byrnes’ trembling hand and squeezing it. “We tried—to keep them out of the water as much as we could—”

Suddenly, the world seemed to be shrinking and turning black.

Ace, who had quietly followed her, caught her as she collapsed on the muddy field, over to the west of Tree Hill Park.

The last thing she remembered was the ring of faces above her, the parents who had been waiting for word of their little girls, staring down at her as everything faded away.

While Dr. Byrnes
was still examining the girls in the lights of the emergency vehicles, the medic from Ace’s unit looked over Lucy.

“She’s gonna need fluids,” he said to Ace, who had carried her back to the outside of the now-still chopper. “And heat—if there’s another ambulance available—”

“There’s not,” said a senior officer who was directing medical response vehicles around the field, which was being used as a M.A.S.H. unit for the entire town. “We’ve had twenty-three companies respond, and every one of their transport vehicles is taken.”

“I’m fine,” Lucy muttered, her eyes still closed. “All I need is a hot shower and a shot of whiskey, Jameson’s, if possible. Oh, and to make sure my cat’s all right. Other than that, I’m dandy.”

She put out her hand. “Somebody help me up, please.”

“I think you should stay put for the moment, ma’am—”

Lucy’s eyes, a glorious shade of Irish blue, popped open.

“All right, I’ll get up by myself.” She started to rise, then felt a large, calloused hand seize hers.

Ace pulled her to a stand, shaking his head.

The children on the gurneys nearby, now more awake, were anxious, looking around desperately for their parents, and beginning to weep. Lucy came over to each of them and smiled as bravely as she could.

“Your parents will be with you in a few minutes,” she told them in as reassuring a way as she could muster. “Dr. Byrnes is just trying to make sure you’re all OK. I am
so
proud of you guys.”

Five nervous pairs of eyes were fixed on her. Even Sloane was awake, staring at her.

“While we wait, let me tell you a quick story,” Lucy went on. “It’s a story about Obergrande—the tree, and the town, and some brave ladies just like you.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to get warm. A moment later, she felt the sensation of heat as a Red Cross volunteer encircled her with a blanket.

“Thanks,” she said, turning, but the man was already on to others in need. She looked back at her little students again, a fondness beyond measure swelling in her heart.

“So, a
very
long time ago, hundreds and hundreds of years ago, when Obergrande, the tree and the town, was new, there were only about ten families here. They lived in cabins and had to work very hard, because they were building a settlement from the Adirondack forests.

“One winter, the men of the tiny town went hunting together to gather food for the long winter ahead. While they were gone, another group of men that wanted their land and their things attacked their settlement, with just the women and the children there. This could have been a very bad thing—a lot like the flood in the school today was a very bad thing.

“But the women of the settlement that would one day be our town fought back. They were brave, and strong, and they knew how to take care of themselves. And, most important, they refused to give up, no matter what—a lot like you guys did today.”

She lapsed into silence, suddenly feeling weak.

“Did they win?” Sarah asked, her voice shaking.

Lucy smiled raggedly. “They sure did. And when their husbands came home from hunting, they saw their town had been attacked, but it was still standing—and their wives were there, cleaning up the mess from the fight, like nothing had ever happened.

“So the husbands decided to have a celebration and to name the women the Eight Queens of Obergrande, even though it was a silly thing, because you can’t have eight queens of anything.”

“Right,” said Sloane. “Only one at a time.” She coughed again.

“The men just wanted the women to know how proud they were of them—just like your parents and I are proud of you today.”

“And Prince Charmin’?” Corinne asked.

Lucy glanced around, but did not see Ace. The parents, however, were being led quietly over to where the gurneys were. “Yes—I know he’s proud of you, too. So,
I
think we should name you girls The Five Princesses of Obergrande, like the Eight Queens—” She turned to the approaching parents. “What do you think?”

“Highly appropriate,” said Professor Byrnes, smiling down widely at his little girl.

Mr. Wallace was leaning over his little redhead. “Where’s Mommy?” Sloane asked her father as he took her hand and kissed it.

“Out of town, remember, honey?”

The little girl looked crestfallen. “Oh, yeah. Gone again.”

From across the park, a firefighter was approaching, running, heading for the helicopter. He ran straight to the gurney and, in complete violation of the briefing given to the other parents by the Army medic, bent over Sarah and threw his arms around her, hugging her gently but tightly.

When he released her and pulled up, tears were streaming down his face.

“Sarah,” he whispered over and over again. “Sarah. Sarah. Sarah—”

“It’s OK, Daddy,” the little dirty-blonde girl said solemnly. “I’m fine. There’s no need to cry—unless you stuck’ed forks in your eyes. Then I think I would cry too.”

Around the assemblage of parents and rescue personnel, a roll of chuckling laughter went up.

The first really happy sound the field had heard that day.

“Mommy and the baobabs will be so happy you’re fine, and so proud of you,” Dave Windsor said to his daughter, who shrugged.

“Well, now we is princesses, they
should
be proud,” she said. “If I’m a princess, does that make Blythe and Bonnie princesses too?”

Dave, who had missed the story, just nodded, overwhelmed with relief.

Hovering anxiously at the edge of the group were Elisa’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Santiago, who looked exhausted, and Grace’s mother and father, the Reverend Fuller and his wife, Kathy.

“No sé donde nos alojaremos,” Mr. Santiago whispered to his wife. “La casa se ha ido.”

Kathy Fuller, overhearing them, smiled and took Mrs. Santiago’s elbow.

“Your house is gone?” she asked gently.

The Santiagos exchanged a glance, then nodded.

“I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Fuller said.

“Not a problem,” Reverend Fuller added. “We have plenty of room at the parsonage of the church. You can stay with us.”

Mr. Santiago looked nervous. “We—we are—”

The Fullers waited patiently.

Finally he finished his thought. “We are Catholic.”

The Fullers chuckled. “That’s all right,” Reverend Fuller said. “We speak Catholic.”

At that moment Dr. Byrnes finished her exam, then spoke quickly to the Army medics. She came back and signaled for the parents to step away from the gurneys.

“They are in remarkable condition under the circumstances,” she said in her beautiful, low-pitched voice, a voice that had a calming effect on the frazzled group of parents. “Sloane has suffered the most by far; she was submerged, it seems, inhaled some water and I’m sure is quite traumatized. The rest of them have some minor hypothermia, which is beginning to be treated as we speak, and, of course, they are all very frightened. I suggest we look into some short-term group therapy immediately. They survived this together; I think it’s best we try to facilitate their recovery together.”

The other parents nodded.

“Time for transport,” said the Army medic who had been managing the triage. “Whichever parent is riding along, please board the ambulance. We’ll be leaving in ninety seconds.”

Lucy raised her fist in the air.

“Princess Power!” she said.

Each of the little girls responded as well as they could.

“The Fearless Fivesome,” Lucy said quietly as the gurneys began to be taken away, remembering what Ace had called them.

Reverend Fuller, whose wife was riding along with Grace, touched her elbow.

“We can never, never thank you enough, Miss Sullivan,” he said in his soothing, musical voice that Lucy had heard at parent-teacher meetings. “But we are definitely going to try, when everything is right again.”

“Indeed, I’m at a loss for words to express my gratitude,” said Professor Byrnes, who was also staying behind. “And, if you told my college students that, they would never believe it’s possible for me to be at a loss for words.”

Dave Windsor said nothing. He was distracted by the sight of his wife, exiting Lenny Verillo’s SUV, a twin in each arm.

Then he ran at breakneck speed, straight toward her, sweeping the rest of his girls into a wild hug.

“I’m going with Sarah to the hospital,” Susan said within his embrace. “Lenny’s going to watch the girls with his granddaughter, Abby.” She pulled her head up and whispered in his ear. “Lenny’s daughter, Abby’s mom, is missing.”

Dave exhaled deeply, then nodded. His crew was part of the search for her and the other people in her flooded office building that had, until this morning, stood by the river’s edge.

“There’s a spare playpen at the church,” said Reverend Fuller. He turned to Mrs. Santiago, whose husband was already heading toward the ambulance. “I expect we will be opening the church hall to a lot of people in your same situation tonight—can you give me a hand until I see who shows up to help?”

“Of course,” said Mrs. Santiago. She was looking at the ambulance with her little girl and husband aboard, pulling away into the dusk.

As the four others did a moment later, one by one.

On their way to the hospital in Emmettsville.

Dave Windsor stood in silence, watching them leave.