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Authors: Lauraine Snelling

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BOOK: Wake the Dawn
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“But good will come of it, when you get the new clinic.” Gramma Alma left off playing with Johnny and joined the conversation. “God sure is good at that.”

“We paid a high price and the town meeting is this week. Wood chips will fly in the devil’s workshop, of that I am sure.”

Alma shook her head. “How could anyone be against that? You said two died.”

“Change. There is a large percentage of people, especially in the local government, who don’t want change. And frankly, a lot of skinflints, too. They don’t like to spend money for anything if they can get by with something less. Our X-ray machine, for instance—”

“I don’t like to spend money, either.” Alma scowled. “You don’t toss the old away just because something new’s come out.”

Esther almost had to smile. Gramma Alma still popped corn by vigorously shaking a pan on the stove. “We don’t even have a real estimate yet on what it is going to cost. The estimate I gave them years ago isn’t good anymore. Or recent plans drawn up. I’m sure we’ll form a committee to do that, but that takes time, too.”

“That’s an impossible restriction; nothing can happen in ninety days.” Dad snorted, the snort he used to declare
end of discussion
.

Kenneth asked, “You have a location in mind yet?”

“Yes, the city owns the land that the present clinic is on and several undeveloped acres beyond the parking lot.”

Her dad shook his head. “You pull this off and it will indeed go down in history as a bona fide miracle.”

“Along with the military bringing in and installing a pontoon bridge until they can get our bridge repaired?” She thought of telling them about her conversations with the two doctors, but figured that would lead to more questions. She glanced across the table to see that Gramma had taken the little guy on her lap and he was sound asleep in her arms. Leave it to Gramma. Esther couldn’t help but smile. That little boy got plenty of attention for sure, living that close to grandparents and a great-grandma.

Joanie rose and brought the coffeepot back into the table. “Anyone for more?” She filled Kenneth’s cup and then Peter’s. “I’m drinking tea, Esther, if you would rather have that. There’s both herb tea and regular.”

With a smile, Esther shook her head.

“So, what are your plans for Thanksgiving?” her mother asked. “I assume you can join us this year.”

Feeling like Bambi in the headlights, Esther made herself take in a breath before answering. Why did she take everything her mother said as an accusation? It was the tone of voice, she realized. True, she’d missed the last two holidays, but she’d not given this year a moment’s thought yet. That was months away.

“Less than a month till then.” Mom could even correct her thoughts.

“I’m not sure, Mom. All I’m trying to do is get caught up on the paperwork from that storm. During the worst of it we treated nearly a hundred people and didn’t keep any records—it was coming at us too fast. And dealing with this clinic thing.” She glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, I need to get home before long. I’ve not been grocery shopping since before the storm.”

“How long were you without power?” Kenneth asked.

“Two days or so. Good thing I had so little in the refrigerator. That meant I only lost milk and some leftovers. Since I wasn’t there to open it, the freezer stayed pretty near cold enough. Some things got soft but nothing was rotten.”

“You were lucky.”

“I know.” She pushed back her chair. “How about I help with the dishes?”

“How about you sit down and visit? We can always do the dishes later. They won’t go anywhere.” Her mother’s reply caught her by surprise. The dishes were always at the top of her list.

Esther shot her father a glance only to get a slight nod in return. Since when was she company and not expected to help with the chores?

“When did you get the new dog?” Should be a safe topic.

“A month or so ago. He showed up here one day, someone must have dumped him along the woods road. We asked around but no one claimed him. Arthur growled a bit but then decided he liked having another dog here.” Her dad smiled at her mother. “Your mother named him. Since we have an Arthur, she said we needed a Lancelot. So he’s Lance.”

“You need to come home more often to keep up on the news.” There it was again. Thanks, Ma.

“You know, the road goes both ways.” Esther also knew how hard it was to be away when no matter what, chores time rolled around. Her father ran Black Angus cattle along with farming hay, beans, and sunflowers. “I have a perfectly fine guest room if you wanted to spend the night.”
Besides, it is only about four hours away. You can’t drive a few hours to come see me?

Esther could feel the restlessness coming at her again. Why didn’t she invite them more often? Because she didn’t want to get into an argument. And if she was around her mother much longer, that would happen. She pushed back her chair. She had set her phone on vibrate and felt it going off. “Excuse me, I better check on this.” Checking the screen, she walked into the family room to go stand by the front window. She’d not recognized the number.

“Hello, this is Dr. Hanson.”

“Esther, this is Amber Harden. You said I could call, is this a bad time?”

“I’m at my parents’ house. Do you need something?”

“It’s not that important. If you would call me back when it is convenient?”

“Sure. Perhaps on the way home.”

“Thank you. Enjoy your family.” She hung up and Esther clicked her phone shut.

She analyzed the voice. Frightened? Anxious? No. Bored. Amber was lonesome. So she’d stop at the crossroad and pull over, talk to Amber, and then pretend she was needed elsewhere. Had she made a major error giving Amber her business card?

Back in the dining room, the table was cleared, and in the kitchen Joanie was loading the dishwasher while Mom was putting food in cottage cheese containers and such, what they laughingly referred to as Norwegian Tupperware.

“I’m fixing these for you to take. That way you won’t have to cook tomorrow.”

“Thank you. I need to be going.” She waved her cell as if the call had been important.

“I’ll walk you to your car.” Dad grabbed her jacket, held it for her, then hand-hugged her shoulders. The burning started behind her eyes.

“Thanks.” Esther stepped out the door, her father right behind. The sun stained the sky with vermillion and glorious pinks, gilding the clouds. Esther paused. “That is one of the things I think of when I think of home. The sunsets we always saw from this porch.” Her father matched her step for step, their shoulders brushing.

“Now that it is just us, how are you holding up—really?”

Esther swallowed once and then again. How easy it would be to turn and collapse into her father’s arms. “I-I’m fine.”
As long as I don’t have to confess the meltdown and what is causing the post-traumatic stress I’m fighting.
If he only knew. If only she knew, at least knew for sure. She could no longer keep track of what was memory and what was imagination. She set the sack of cartons on the floor in the back and slid into the front seat while her father held the door open.

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “When you decide you can talk to me or the load gets too heavy, I have a shoulder and a ready ear.”

“Thanks, Dad.”
But if you ever learn my secret, you will hate me.

H
e hated meetings. That’s one of the things Chief chewed on him the most about: being late to meetings. And those were border patrol meetings with only six or seven people. He hated town meetings a thousand times worse. There had to be 300 people milling around here, in a room the fire marshal thought ought to hold 176.

Ben poured himself a second cup of coffee and parked close to the refreshment trays, the better to grab Mrs. Peterson’s fresh, moist, peanut butter cookies with the crosshatching on top; there was no cookie finer. Even Lars irritated Ben tonight. Hizzonor the mayor took a chair in the middle of the big long table at the front of the room, but he didn’t sit in it. He shuffled papers and answered questions, smiling and nodding a lot. A whole lot. That meant he would probably try to please everybody, and that wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight.

Esther entered from the kitchen door, way too wide-eyed and wary. She was shown a chair about three from the mayor’s left. For as long as she’d been working on this we-need-a-good-medical-facility project, years, they ought to sit her at the mayor’s immediate right. Or hand her the gavel. She seemed really squirrelly, but then that’s how Ben felt, too.

“There you are!” A terribly cheery female voice. “I knew you’d be somewhere around here tonight.”

Ben cringed. “Hello, Amber.”

She pouted. Like a high schooler. “You don’t sound happy to see me.”

“I’m happy to see you. I’m happy to see everyone here. It’s a very important meeting.”

“That’s what everybody says. So what are you doing afterward?”

She would ask that.
His mind raced, looking for an excuse. Finally, “Sorry. I have plans already.”

“What are they?” She pressed in close, and she was wearing a flowery sort of perfume.

He surprised himself by realizing that she was embarrassing him in public like this, and that was pretty high schoolish, too. Mildly embarrassed, but embarrassed all the same. He glanced over at Esther. If she was watching Amber and him, the embarrassment wouldn’t be mild.

But she was just sitting there, apparently looking at nothing in particular. Suddenly her eyes opened wider and her jaw dropped open. She was staring toward the door.

Ben turned to look. Here came Dr. Livingston from the military clinic, and with him Dr. Ho from Grand Forks! No wonder her mouth dropped open. “’Scuse me.” He brushed past Amber and headed for the door. Was he too abrupt with her? Who cared?

Pushing through the crowd, he reached them six feet inside the door. “Gentlemen?” He extended his hand.

“Good to see you again.” Dr. Livingston shook. He wore his class A dress uniform tonight. The only reason to wear class A’s was to impress folks that you were brass.

Dr. Ho, in a well-tailored suit and tie, extended his hand. “Good evening, Mr. James. Quite a crowd.”

“Quite an important meeting. Good evening.” He started for the head table, and they followed.

Esther stood and shook with them. She smiled, but the smile didn’t appear genuine. She looked confused, same as Ben felt. Kindred souls, Ben and Esther.

“Lars?” Lars was talking to an older lady Ben knew by sight but not by name.

Lars glanced toward him with a look of relief. One would think he wasn’t eager to stand around yakking with this woman.

Ben flashed a smile at the lady, a sort of apology. “Lars, I want you to meet Dr. Livingston from the base and Dr. Ho from the hospital in Grand Forks. Dr. Ho is Esther’s supervising physician. Gentlemen, this is our mayor, Lars Benson. His day job is banking.”

And then he backed off and let them chat, before the lady decided to talk to him instead. Because he now remembered her if not her name; she talked to people in grocery aisles, in the pharmacy line, on the street, waiting for the bus, on the bus, anywhere she found an ear. She told the world about a son who was an important lawyer in Davenport and a daughter who was going to transform the world of social sciences. Ben had Googled the daughter once, out of curiosity. She had her own website, and from what Ben could tell, she was unemployed.

Now Lars was bumping Esther down two chairs farther away from him. Wrong move! And now he was seating the two doctors between him and Esther. Right move. Ben glanced at his watch. A few minutes past time to get started.

A moment later Lars rapped his gavel and called for people to be seated. Ben glanced at Esther. Her face was white and she was gripping the table edge. He looked at the two doctors. They had noticed. The question now was, how much had they noticed?

The hubbub dissipated from loud roar to gentle roar to general titter. Lars stood sternly watching. The titter quieted. “Ladies and gentlemen, I believe you all know the subject of tonight’s town meeting. If we can get moving on a medical facility in ninety days, we will be a million dollars richer. But before we get into that, even to decide whether to do that, I would like to introduce two guests.

“Because their time is limited, I will ask them to speak first so they can go. Understand they are not outsiders simply being brought in to push one side. They are a crucial part of this community, and of the matter of our medical readiness. Let me introduce Dr. George Livingston from the air force base. Many of you met him during our storms, when he came in from the base hospital to help us in the clinic and handle air transport. Dr. Livingston?” He sat down.

Dr. Livingston stood. Ben admired the way he could take control of a roomful simply by standing up and looking official. Chief had had that gift as well. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have a few brief words that are pertinent to your situation. But first I want to publicly commend, with the highest accolades, Esther Hanson. She served far beyond the call of duty, saved many lives and eased the suffering of countless others, and she did it most graciously.” With an enthusiastic smile, he began the applause, and the whole crowd clapped loudly.

Pale and shaking, Esther forced a smile.

The smile left his face. Dr. Livingston cleared his throat. “In this recent emergency, just about all traffic ground to a halt. We could not get to Pineville. You could not get to us. The choppers couldn’t fly. And there will be other situations like this, with increasing frequency. As most of you know if you watch the news at all, extreme weather is happening more often, and it is more extreme. Wind, rain, heavy snow. We hope it will all settle down shortly, but we can’t depend on that. More important, you can’t depend on us. We came in on the tail end of these storms because we couldn’t come any sooner, and because the worst of the storm missed the base, so we didn’t have emergency conditions tying up our personnel there. Put plainly, we cannot promise we’ll be there for you.” He turned to the mayor. “Do you have snowplows?”

Lars looked confused. “Of course.”

“And highway crews.”

“They did a splendid job, beyond the call of duty, too. Yes.”

Dr. Livingston nodded. “Well, friends, you need a good medical facility for exactly the same reason you have snowplows and emergency crews always on the ready. Smooth service during little events, and adequate service during extreme events. Thank you for your attention.” He sat down.

Lars stood up. “Any questions?”

Burt Yakov stood up. Ben sighed. Burt was one of the world’s great contrarians. Tell him don’t eat yellow snow and he’d insist it is good for you. “How much did these people pay you to come here and say that?”

And to Ben’s delight Dr. Livingston, bless him, rose to the curmudgeon’s challenge. “To answer your question, Dr. Ho and I have been paid nothing. Rather, it is costing us money. Our travel expenses to come here will not be remunerated. Neither will our lieu costs. You see, sir, supervisors are on call twenty-four-seven. If we leave the area, we must pay someone out of our own pockets to be on call in our absence. I don’t mind adding, sir, that I consider your question insulting.”

A wave of cackles and titters rolled around the room. If there were other questions, apparently the questioners thought twice.

Lars stood. “We are grateful, Dr. Livingston. Thank you. Our other guest is Dr. Warren Ho. He supervises Esther, who is not a fully accredited doctor but rather a physician’s assistant. Dr. Ho handles outpatient resources in Grand Forks. Dr. Ho?”

The man stood. He looked very natty in his suit, not really one with most of the people here in their T-shirts and jeans. He smiled. “Good evening. I echo George’s sentiments and multiply them. Esther Hanson has done an outstanding job, just outstanding, better than anyone could ever expect of a PA. George and I apologize for having to speak and run. We are on our way down to Rochester to a symposium at Mayo on satellite and rural medicine. That is, medicine practiced outside major metro areas. There is an immense shortage of doctors who are willing to practice out in the sticks, if you will. Most want to specialize, and only major medical facilities can employ specialists. At the symposium we will be discussing ways to ease that shortage. While I am there I will bring to the board at Mayo Clinic a request to help with staffing a formal medical clinic here in Pineville.”

Burt leaped to his feet. “What we have works just fine ninety-nine percent of the time. We don’t need—”

Lars slammed his gavel down. “Burt, sit down! Let the man finish and then comment.”

Burt opened his mouth and started to speak. But Ben had reached him. He laid his hand on Burt’s shoulder, squeezed just the right place. Burt sat.

Dr. Ho continued, “A plan using rotating residencies has been working in other parts of the country. I want to put you on the list early, so you’re near the top if you decide to expand your medical facility. Grand Forks is ready to help, and we can take a fair number of emergency cases.
If
the roads are open. When you can’t reach us, you have to have something here that will meet your immediate needs. You have a real need here, and there will never be a better chance to meet it.” He glanced down at his watch. “I’m sorry; we have to get to the airport. I wish you the very best as you deliberate.” He backed away from the table as Dr. Livingston stood up. They headed for the kitchen door, where, Ben noticed, a driver in air force fatigues was waiting at parade rest.

Lars rose and led the applause. “To expand on their answer to Burt’s question, we did not know they would be coming.”

“Now it’s my turn.” The frail and spidery Mr. Aptos stood up in the front row, doddered over to the head table, and laid a check on it. The check was an enlarged version of an ordinary check, a good three feet wide, with the lettering writ large,
ONE
MILLION DOLLARS. $1,000,000.00
, over his signature. It was postdated ninety days. “Break ground by then and it’s yours.”

Ben happened to know that as long as it was a legitimate check, you could make it any size you want. This one was valid. He’d never seen that much in one place, let alone on one piece of paper. And he would bet there weren’t half a dozen people here who could see that much on their bank statement.

Gladys Applegate barked but did not stand. “You think you can get away with bribing us, Bill?”

“Ain’t a bribe. It’s a threat. Diddle away the time and you face a lawsuit. And you notice, I’ll have a million dollars to pay for that lawsuit. I’ll do it, too. You ready to plunk down that kind of money to fight it?”

Walt Jackson stood up. “So he’s saying we don’t have time to waste. I move we take a straw vote right off the bat, see how much discussion we need.”

Ben called, “I second.”

Lars nodded. “Straw vote moved and seconded. Show of hands. In favor?”

A sea of hands went up.

“Against?”

A sea of hands went up.

Lars sat down. “I didn’t count, but it looks pretty even. Gonna be a long night. Who’s taking notes?” He glanced around. “Amy? Good. Since Bill Aptos is mounting the challenge, let him tell us exactly what the challenge is. We’ll go from there.”

Ben should have been paying better attention, but Esther seized his interest and held it. It was obvious to him that she was fighting valiantly to maintain her composure. They should let her present whatever she was going to say and then leave, but of course, that sure wasn’t going to happen. How long could she hold on?

He left Burt and worked his way back to the coffee station. Mrs. Peterson was putting out more cookies. He murmured “Bless you!” and snatched up another peanut butter cookie. The arguments raged behind him.

“I’m the township treasurer and I can tell you, we don’t have anywhere near the kind of money a lawsuit would cost us—or a hospital. Either one.”

“But lots of money to waste, right? Lawyers don’t come free.”

Mr. Rustvold’s voice roared, “Well, mine does. She’s so sure it’s a critical need she’s working pro bono. Now, Mr. Bigmouth, where’s your money?”

The yelling was getting hostile, personal, raucous. He was getting sick of this whole mess, and it was the shortsighted yokels mouthing off loudest. Why hadn’t Perowsky assigned a couple of officers to the meeting, just to prevent this sort of escalation? Ben poured himself another mug of coffee. There were rational reasons both pro and con. Why wasn’t anyone voicing the real reasons instead of all this fulminating?

BOOK: Wake the Dawn
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