By jusylee72
One of those days, normal, boring, nothing new in the news, no big tradgedy to cry over, no discussion starter at the lunch table, nothing to shake up the world with or write home to Mom about.
The sky deepened to a blue, green-gray, the air thick, moist.
No weatherman predicted rain
The school calendar stated:
"Early Out day".
One month before the state legislature mandated:
Teachers must receive more STAAR Test training.
Our administration sent the formal email.
"Report to the auditorium no later than one-fifteen. Bring the manuals provided in your school mailboxes."
We escorted the students to the bus loop, some ecstatic about the early release day, some noticed the air felt different, strange.
One student didn't want to get on the bus.
"Mrs. Welch, the sky looks different."
My reply felt shallow.
"Oh heavens, it's just another day. Enjoy the opportunity to go home early."
We often forget our animal heritage. Instinct, within us, senses fear, uncertainty.
In modern times, we ignore the signs, thinking of ourselves higher than the other animals in the universe.
Birds fly low before it rains. Not because the fowls recognize the danger, simply because the insects they eat fly lower.
Salmon swim upstream only sensing it is time to procreate. They ignore the danger and follow their desire to find a mate.
Humans ignore their feelings, their instincts. Otherwise we would have gone home to our loved ones.
None of us who survived, chose that option.
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The student's words echoed in my head.
"Mrs. Welch, why is the sky that color?"
"It looks weird out here."
Our students sensed it, felt it, acknowledged it.
I still see their faces in the bus windows. I wonder what became of them.
We don't know who made it home. We only know we put them on a bus.
We ignored our fears at lunch.
Krissie, my best friend, a computer teacher, ate our "Weight Watcher" salads.
How many times had we been through the various versions of this "NEW" type of training? We could mouth it word for word.
Taft, my school home for 14 years now, connected Krissie and me. We formed a strong connection from the first time I met her. We both graduated in 1972. We both love to play golf, so did our husbands. As couples, we played in scrambles and local tournaments together. We enjoyed each other's humor. We had no secrets. Often during our Sunday golf outings, we would laugh about life.
While driving the golf cart, we drank beers and made fun of our husbands. We talked about school and our children. We knew each other's life's stories. We talked about the mistakes in our past. While life was not perfect, we cherished who we had become and what we now were now accomplishing.
Both of us hated standardized testing days. I called them "torture days". The tests would last all day long. We jokingly referred to it as the WTFTT - Ways To Fire a Teacher Test. Since I was the music teacher, I would spend my entire day on bathroom duty. I knew the speech well.
"Please make sure only one student is in the bathroom at a time. You must go in and out and inspect the room for the possibility a student is leaving test answers. If you see a child with their phone, immediately confiscate it and ask for an administrator. You will be given feminine products in case a student needs them."
Krissie and I got to the auditorium at exactly 1:11. As usual, I forgot my manual and had to run back to my room which was just down the hall. Krissie saved the aisle seat for me. Our principal picked up the microphone.
"Thank you for being here. As you all know we will be administering the STAAR test the first week of May."
"If you break any of the rules during testing you may lose your teaching certificate."
The updated vignettes, same message, same bad acting showed new characters with a small attempt at humor.
Our favorite vignette, the one we made the most fun of, showed two teachers in our lounge
"Did you see that question on the Math Test? I think it was unfair."
"Yes, there were many that I disagreed with."
Another teacher in the background, standing with an open refrigerator, eavesdropping shakes her head.
We are not allowed to mention the test, especially we are not allowed to talk about questions on it. We are sworn to silence emphasized with a signed oath to follow all rules.
The next scene opens in the principal's office.
"I feel an obligation to report two teachers who broke protocol." The refrigerator eavesdropper smiles as she seals the other teachers' fate.
"You are doing the right thing." The principal praises her decision.
We never find out the fate of the two teachers, but it is assumed they either lost their teaching certificates or were put in prison, maybe tortured into admitting their discretion.
I do not allow the use of cell phones in my class. I try to be respectful and not use mine in meetings. Boredom took over, I started yawning. I knew if I didn't distract myself I might find myself snoring loudly. Krissie nudged me a few minutes earlier to tell me to wake up. I shouldn't have but I turned my phone on. Just then my daughter sent me a picture of my three-year-old granddaughter. I stared at it mesmerized. What a little beauty. The time said 3:05.
The world changed. The floor shook, small at first then violently. Ceiling tiles began to rain on our heads. Lights above our heads shattered, popping, exploding. Darkness filled the room. I heard a giant thud and felt a large piece of metal fall on Krissie next to me. The metal casing slashed a large cut into my left arm. Krissie let out a large gasp but didn't move. Using my phone, I turned to her. She didn't move. I stood, screaming her name. Some large light from the ceiling sat in her lap. My phone dropped to the floor. I tried to move the lamp, the casing cut into my hands. It wouldn't move. I stood there in shock, unable to move, unable to look away. I dropped my phone.
Someone touched my arm. A young teacher I didn't recognize calmly spoke to me. He put his hand on my shoulder. He picked up my phone. He turned me away from Krissie.
"Let me help you. You must follow me. You can't help her now. We will come back."
I couldn't speak. He gently pushed me up the ramp.
The closest doors stood to our right. Several teachers stood with ashen faces staring at the doorway. We could go no further. A ledge a foot from the door fell into the classroom on the floor below us. The foyer, now filled with broken glass, prevented our exit. No way out on this side.
Panic took over in the darkness.
Crying, screaming, moans filled the room.
We turned around and followed the crowd to the other side of the auditorium. Someone had propped open the other door. A faint light led to the band hall across the exit. We wanted to run, yet we moved slowly across. Most of us were silent. Some were screaming or crying. We kept hearing smaller explosions, dust suffocating us.
One teacher, an evangelist started screaming, "The end is coming. I'm ready Lord."
Amazingly, my phone was still working. It was now 3:11.
We reached the band hall. Chairs and instruments overturned, band lockers jolted open, amazingly the roof was intact. People slumped against the wall, many injured and bleeding. My cuts seemed small compared to the others.
The left side of the room led to an outside door. One of the coaches stood framed in the doorway, a silent picture, staring at the devastation outside.
I joined him at the door. Outside amidst the dusty air, concrete slabs, broken into puzzle pieces. Electric lines pulled from their poles danced to unheard music in the distance. Trees engulfed in flames could be seen for miles. A church steeple without a church stood among the rubble. The boy's gym used to be visible from this door, now just a broken basketball court with a ghost hoop swinging in the wind. We could see for miles, turned over cars, whole buildings reduced to ashes.
We had no way out. No place to run. I slumped down in the doorway unable to stop looking at the view. The band hall generator provided us with dim light. We knew it wouldn't last for long.
Our cell phones proved useless. Our calls to 911 were unanswered. The phone towers must have fallen. Our band director, Amanda, tried the landline in her office, no dial tone. Her assistants, Mike and Greg began helping people find their way in.
Some were whispering, not wanting to be heard. Some were crying, screaming. Some lay deadly quiet.
The young man who led me from my seat seemed to take charge. He knew first aid and basic emergency room skills. He rapidly moved from one patient to the other accessing each patient as if he was a physician.
Small decisions formed. The people who were not injured began moving. Amanda found flashlights. Greg opened a closet full of water used to help the marchers keep hydrated. Those who were not injured helped move the severely hurt into the adjourning band hall. Michael opened the uniform closet and grabbed band uniforms to use as pillows to keep their heads above their bleeding. They covered them with the jackets. Shoelaces from marching shoes became make-do tourniquets.
Someone handed me a water bottle and paper towels and asked me to clean my wounds. Another teacher began cutting up white tux shirts from the uniform closet.
The coach still stood in the doorway. He hadn't moved since I first came in the room. Slowly he turned to us and in a loud voice announced,
"There are no sirens. There is only silence. No one is coming to help us."
At Taft, we refer to our faculty as a family of educators. We never knew we would be a true family from that moment on.
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Chapter 2 Douglas Athletic Trainer
It took two years after graduating from college before Doug could move out of his parents' house. HIs degree in Exercise Science and Kinesthetic was a step in his plans. His real dream was to become a doctor. Reality ruined that hope when he took the MCAT. He failed it twice.
Test anxiety haunted him from the time he was in first grade. He would study his spelling words. He won the spelling bee. Yet, couldn't pass the written test. By third grade they had him tested for Special Education Programs. Despite an almost genius IQ, 137, he couldn't put his words on paper. The special ed psychiatrist tried to explain it to his parents.
"He is very intelligent. He just can't put it down on paper. I asked him to make up a story and showed him a picture of two people on the moon. He told me the most elaborate, imaginative story full of dialogue and humor. Yet, when I asked him to write it down he wrote three sentences.
"There were two people on the moon. They saw the stars. They liked being on the moon."
"He is probably dysgraphic, a form of Dyslexia that most people don't understand."
His Dad thought it was just a bunch of malarky.
"He just isn't trying hard enough. Slow down, write slower. Discipline is all you need."
He didn't want to sign the papers to put his oldest son in Special Education.
"You need to live up to your name, Douglas Edward Montgomery the Fourth. No child of mine is retarded."
It took his mother to convince her husband, the son of a Texas Rancher, to realize what his son needed.
They were a unique couple, his Mom, and Dad. Dad grew up on a wealthy cowboy ranch. His Mom, Janie, as they called her, grew up on an Indian Reservation. Her heritage placed her in two worlds, half-white, half Cherokee. She receive a scholarship to college from the indian council.
They met in college. He studied animal science at Texas Tech. At most he was a B, C student. He knew college was a formality. He was going to inherit the ranch. He already had a house on the 3000 acres that he could call his own. He had always dated the cheerleader types in high school. Then fate sat him next to this tall, dark-haired, beautiful woman in a mandatory psychology class. They were put in a study group together. They disagreed on almost everything. For some reason, the attraction was immediate. He fell in love with this feisty woman. She finally let him date her a year later.
Taking her home to Mama was a real challenge. No one had ever married outside of their culture. Yet he knew she was the woman for him. Eventually, she won over the rest of the family. The wedding took place on June 2th, 1965.
Douglas Edward Montgomery the Fourth was born on August 16th, two years after their marriage.
Janie's Mother, a full Cherokee, came to the hospital shortly after the birth. She presented a small bag of Indian medicine and placed it on her new grandson's forehead, then She shook the herbs above her grandson's head. Chanting in her native language, she spoke his Indian name, Silver Fox. She turned to her daughter.
"You must give Silver Fox this bag when he is 8 years old. His gifts will be revealed. He is the Great-Great Grandson of a medicine man. Two of his gifts will be healing and kindness. The rest will be revealed in time."
His grandmother died before his 3rd year of life.
Janie kept her promise. Her son received the medicine bag on his 8th birthday. His gifts began to emerge.
Some little boys bring home stray animals. Doug's parents soon learned their boy was different. He brought home any injured creature he could find. A baby bird with a deformed wing, a rabbit half eaten by a fox but still alive, a cat with three legs, even a group of baby skunks he found after a Texas flood.
Dad protested when he brought the skunks home, but Mom always gave in. She knew her boy's heart and couldn't stand when any creature was hurting. She helped put them in a box and take them to the wild animal shelter 40 miles away. The vet comforted the boy, "They are almost old enough to be weaned. I can give them formula and release them in the woods in a couple of weeks. They will be okay."
Most of his little creatures survived. Doug had a natural gift for healing. He would gently bandage them, figure out a way to feed them, name them and love them.
The three-legged cat became "Hop a Long"
The rabbit, "Bunny Who Has No Fear"
The little bird, "Eagle Who Will Fly over the World".
The bird, a true miracle, survived and thrived under his guidance.
The wing grossly deformed looked hopeless. Most people would have no hope for such an animal. It stayed with him for 6 months. Every night Doug would gently stretch the wing out. He splinted the wing in a new position each week. He fed the little guy day and night. As the bird grew the wing became straighter and stronger.
He loved to tell the bird stories about seeing the world from the sky. When the bird showed signs of wanting to fly. Doug would take him out to flight school every day after school.
Sitting on the ground he would cup the sweet creature in his hands then gently throw him a few inches at a time. Each week the throws were a little bit further.
He never planned the day the bird would take flight. He waited for nature to decide.
He placed him on a low branch and let him watch the sky and other birds. At night, he gently caged him and told him one day the sky would be his own.
One evening he placed him on a higher branch. The next day he flew. For a week he stayed close to the house, Then he flew away to see the world from the sky.
When he was ten, he asked his Mother to call him Silver Fox. His father would have nothing of it. "You were born with a strong Texas Heritage. No son of mine is going to be called Silver Fox. Be proud of the name you were given."
His Mother took him aside. "I know your father can be controlling but he is a good man. He treats me well. He has given me two strong sons. A woman who marries someone with the idea that she can change him is a foolish girl. It was my choice to marry him and love him as he is. He is my provider. Your name does not have to be spoken to make you powerful. Greatness will find you in time."
Now six months after moving out he lived in a small one-bedroom apartment. To Doug, it felt like a castle. He worked at Taft High School as their athletic trainer. He still wanted to be a doctor but he was enjoying working with athletes and being able to use his medical knowledge when any of them got hurt. He also taught a sports medicine class.
He decided to embrace his Indian heritage. He grew his long black hair out and pulled it into a ponytail. When he met new people he would introduce himself as "Silver Fox but you can call me Doug." People enjoyed his personality and humor.
Today, Thursday, he was up early. He didn't admit it to anyone but he had a crush on the new Girl's P.E. teacher. Patty was only 4'11''. Doug stood a bit over 6 feet. He towered over her.
Patty was starting a zero hour gymnastics course. He volunteered to be the trainer just in case one of the students twisted an ankle or needed an ice pack. Patty had joined the faculty in the middle of the year. She had competed on the Junior Olympics Gymnastic's High School team several years back. She graduated from Michigan State where she placed in Nationals at the worlds. An injury kept her from advancing. She still loved gymnastics and now was happy to be teaching it. Our school had none of the equipment she needed for a gymnastics team. That did not deter her. She was going to start simple with stretches, rolls, flips, dance moves. She was completely convinced she could get the funding she needed from grants.
Doug loved her ambitious attitude. He planned on asking her out for dinner and a movie tomorrow night. He was sure he could convince her. 'After all, my name is Silver Fox which of course makes me clever and wise. Surely she won't say no. '
| Author Notes |
I am excited to revise this story. After three years of working on this, this editing process is amazing and so challenging. I hope you will follow this story about teachers surviving during a crisis. A high school has such an eclectic group of people all with different skills to help in a major crisis, Physics, Math, music, Home ec. Wood making, electronics, culinary skills, including nutrition, Atheletic trainers to help the wounded, Coaches to help with heavy lifting and winning attitudes. Cafeteria workers, Psychologists, counselors, So many diverse skills that can create success. This is a fun but realistic story of survival.
|
By jusylee72
It took two years after graduating from college before Doug could move out of his parents' house. HIs degree in Exercise Science and Kinesthetic was a step in his plans. His real dream was to become a doctor. Reality ruined that hope when he took the MCAT. He failed it twice.
Test anxiety haunted him from the time he was in first grade. He would study his spelling words. He won the spelling bee. Yet, couldn't pass the written test. By third grade they had him tested for Special Education Programs. Despite an almost genius IQ, 137, he couldn't put his words on paper. The special ed psychiatrist tried to explain it to his parents.
"He is very intelligent. He just can't put it down on paper. I asked him to make up a story and showed him a picture of two people on the moon. He told me the most elaborate, imaginative story full of dialogue and humor. Yet, when I asked him to write it down he wrote three sentences.
"There were two people on the moon. They saw the stars. They liked being on the moon."
"He is probably dysgraphic, a form of Dyslexia that most people don't understand."
His Dad thought it was just a bunch of malarky.
"He just isn't trying hard enough. Slow down, write slower. Discipline is all you need."
He didn't want to sign the papers to put his oldest son in Special Education.
"You need to live up to your name, Douglas Edward Montgomery the Fourth. No child of mine is retarded."
It took his mother to convince her husband, the son of a Texas Rancher, to realize what his son needed.
They were a unique couple, his Mom, and Dad. Dad grew up on a wealthy cowboy ranch. His Mom, Janie, as they called her, grew up on an Indian Reservation. Her heritage placed her in two worlds, half-white, half Cherokee. She receive a scholarship to college from the indian council.
They met in college. He studied animal science at Texas Tech. At most he was a B, C student. He knew college was a formality. He was going to inherit the ranch. He already had a house on the 3000 acres that he could call his own. He had always dated the cheerleader types in high school. Then fate sat him next to this tall, dark-haired, beautiful woman in a mandatory psychology class. They were put in a study group together. They disagreed on almost everything. For some reason, the attraction was immediate. He fell in love with this feisty woman. She finally let him date her a year later.
Taking her home to Mama was a real challenge. No one had ever married outside of their culture. Yet he knew she was the woman for him. Eventually, she won over the rest of the family. The wedding took place on June 2th, 1965.
Douglas Edward Montgomery the Fourth was born on August 16th, two years after their marriage.
Janie's Mother, a full Cherokee, came to the hospital shortly after the birth. She presented a small bag of Indian medicine and placed it on her new grandson's forehead, then She shook the herbs above her grandson's head. Chanting in her native language, she spoke his Indian name, Silver Fox. She turned to her daughter.
"You must give Silver Fox this bag when he is 8 years old. His gifts will be revealed. He is the Great-Great Grandson of a medicine man. Two of his gifts will be healing and kindness. The rest will be revealed in time."
His grandmother died before his 3rd year of life.
Janie kept her promise. Her son received the medicine bag on his 8th birthday. His gifts began to emerge.
Some little boys bring home stray animals. Doug's parents soon learned their boy was different. He brought home any injured creature he could find. A baby bird with a deformed wing, a rabbit half eaten by a fox but still alive, a cat with three legs, even a group of baby skunks he found after a Texas flood.
Dad protested when he brought the skunks home, but Mom always gave in. She knew her boy's heart and couldn't stand when any creature was hurting. She helped put them in a box and take them to the wild animal shelter 40 miles away. The vet comforted the boy, "They are almost old enough to be weaned. I can give them formula and release them in the woods in a couple of weeks. They will be okay."
Most of his little creatures survived. Doug had a natural gift for healing. He would gently bandage them, figure out a way to feed them, name them and love them.
The three-legged cat became "Hop a Long"
The rabbit, "Bunny Who Has No Fear"
The little bird, "Eagle Who Will Fly over the World".
The bird, a true miracle, survived and thrived under his guidance.
The wing grossly deformed looked hopeless. Most people would have no hope for such an animal. It stayed with him for 6 months. Every night Doug would gently stretch the wing out. He splinted the wing in a new position each week. He fed the little guy day and night. As the bird grew the wing became straighter and stronger.
He loved to tell the bird stories about seeing the world from the sky. When the bird showed signs of wanting to fly. Doug would take him out to flight school every day after school.
Sitting on the ground he would cup the sweet creature in his hands then gently throw him a few inches at a time. Each week the throws were a little bit further.
He never planned the day the bird would take flight. He waited for nature to decide.
He placed him on a low branch and let him watch the sky and other birds. At night, he gently caged him and told him one day the sky would be his own.
One evening he placed him on a higher branch. The next day he flew. For a week he stayed close to the house, Then he flew away to see the world from the sky.
When he was ten, he asked his Mother to call him Silver Fox. His father would have nothing of it. "You were born with a strong Texas Heritage. No son of mine is going to be called Silver Fox. Be proud of the name you were given."
His Mother took him aside. "I know your father can be controlling but he is a good man. He treats me well. He has given me two strong sons. A woman who marries someone with the idea that she can change him is a foolish girl. It was my choice to marry him and love him as he is. He is my provider. Your name does not have to be spoken to make you powerful. Greatness will find you in time."
Now six months after moving out he lived in a small one-bedroom apartment. To Doug, it felt like a castle. He worked at Taft High School as their athletic trainer. He still wanted to be a doctor but he was enjoying working with athletes and being able to use his medical knowledge when any of them got hurt. He also taught a sports medicine class.
He decided to embrace his Indian heritage. He grew his long black hair out and pulled it into a ponytail. When he met new people he would introduce himself as "Silver Fox but you can call me Doug." People enjoyed his personality and humor.
Today, Thursday, he was up early. He didn't admit it to anyone but he had a crush on the new Girl's P.E. teacher. Patty was only 4'11''. Doug stood a bit over 6 feet. He towered over her.
Patty was starting a zero hour gymnastics course. He volunteered to be the trainer just in case one of the students twisted an ankle or needed an ice pack. Patty had joined the faculty in the middle of the year. She had competed on the Junior Olympics Gymnastic's High School team several years back. She graduated from Michigan State where she placed in Nationals at the worlds. An injury kept her from advancing. She still loved gymnastics and now was happy to be teaching it. Our school had none of the equipment she needed for a gymnastics team. That did not deter her. She was going to start simple with stretches, rolls, flips, dance moves. She was completely convinced she could get the funding she needed from grants.
Doug loved her ambitious attitude. He planned on asking her out for dinner and a movie tomorrow night. He was sure he could convince her. 'After all, my name is Silver Fox which of course makes me clever and wise. Surely she won't say no. '
| Author Notes | Right now I am introducing the characters so that we get more of an idea who they are before the story's disaster happens. I know this is out of order I just wanted to get the characters humanity. |
By jusylee72
Doug's natural instincts took over.
"Move the chairs. Find anything we can use as a backboard. Coaches, I need your help. We need to fset up triage. Use the Xylophone for a cart to transfer the severely hurt to the 2nd band hall. Find anything we can use, water bottles, shoelaces, first aid kits. Move."
No one questioned his position. Coaches, teachers, principles all jumped to action. Doug stabilized many of his coworkers, then ordered the others to move them. He stopped for a brief gulp of water. He knew his next choice.
He estimated close to fifty people in the Band Hall. Taft has at least 100 teachers plus administrators. Time was important when people are injured.
He stood on the conductor's platform in the main band hall.
"I need your help."
He waited for silence.
"We can't wait until morning. We have to go back to the auditorium to see who is still alive. I need volunteers. Who will go with me?"
Doug knew he spoke the truth. First aid training emphasizes quick action Traumatic injuries have to be addressed within the first 24 hours. After that, the survival rate drops dramatically.
For one brief moment, Doug thought about Patty. Earlier that day, she had accepted his offer for dinner this weekend. Now he was filled with worry. Patty was not in the band hall.
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Judy the Choir teacher
The young man who helped me out of the auditorium stood in front of the room. He cupped his hands around his mouth and loudly asked, "Who will come with me?"
Now I recognized him, he was the Athletic Trainer.
I started to shake.
I remembered seeing my best friend, Krissie. I couldn't admit she might be dead. I wasn't sure how or why, but I needed to go back.
I raised my hand like a small school child. I had to know if Krissie was dead.
At the age of 55, I knew I wouldn't physically be much help but I was good with comforting words. I did have the gift of understanding.
The head coach and two of his assistants volunteered along with Kenny our head custodian. The band directors gave us flashlights. We headed back into the disaster.
We gathered three flashlights in the back prop room. Kenny, our custodian, insisted on leading the way. We crossed the small hallway to the entrance to the auditorium.
I wanted to hear silence. That is not what happened.
Two voices rang back and forth to each other.
"Don't leave me. Help me. I can't walk."
"Keep talking I'm crawling toward you."
The first voice, soft, weak, the second masculine, confident, with an edge of fear.
Kenny aimed the flashlight in the direction of the first voice.
"They're here now, look they came back. I knew they wouldn't leave us."
I didn't recognize the voice until I saw her. Terry, the math coordinator, sat against the sidewall in the auditorium, a large ceiling beam covered her legs.
We aimed the lights at the floor, afraid to travel without knowing where we were stepping. We pieced our way to her location.
"Terry," I tried to sound comforting. "We are coming for you."
Now I knew the second voice.
Jack, Terry's husband called her name.
"Terry," pretending he was confident.
We had two couples on our faculty. Terry and Jack, a likable couple with a quirky sense of humor, often threw faculty parties at their home. Jack loved to tell jokes and innocently flirt. I turned back to look at him. He had a large gash in his head. Covered in blood, he crawled toward Terry, ignoring the shards of glass on the floor.
"They came back for us. Jack are you near. I'm getting sleepy again." The athletic trainer and I approached her. She shooed us away. "It doesn't hurt anymore. Go get my husband."
I knelt next to her. She smiled at me.
Doug caught my eye. He mouthed the words, "Hold her hand".
"Judy, you are here. So good to see you. Are they going to get Jack? I am feeling better."
Her eyes were glazed. I made the mistake of briefly looking down at her legs. One was completely amputated below the knee. Ironically, the beam had clamped the blood vessels. It was the only thing keeping her alive. I destracted her from want looking down.
"Don't worry Terry, the others are helping Jack."
"I woke up in darkness." Her breathing shallow. "What happened? How long have I been here? Jack, can you hear me?"
"Yes, dear, I am over here. Mike is with me. I love you. I wouldn't leave without you. It's so dark. We are going to be okay."
Doug and I both knew that wasn't true. Terry was going to die. If we moved her she would bleed out.
"Should I call your daughter or son?"
I knew my cell phone was useless. I wanted to give her hope.
"What are their names again? I know your daughter is Anne. Didn't she get married? What is her last name now?"
Terry's eyes brightened when she heard her daughter's name.
"Decker, Anne Decker. We are having a grandchild soon. We find out if it is a girl or a boy next Friday."
The others carried Jack to where we were setting him down next to her.
"Love you, Terry. It will be okay now."
He put his arm around her.
"Put your head on my shoulder dear. I am here now."
"Love you, Jack. I am so much better now. I can sleep now."
A look of contentment came into her eyes.
"I know now, Jack. The baby is a little girl."
Fate made our choices easier. The ground started to rumble, shake, not like the first time. Smaller. It was just enough to slide the beam off her leg. The blood no longer held back. She'd said her last words.
Jack leaned against the wall and went with her.
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We stayed there in silence for at least three minutes, then we heard it - a pounding. It was coming from the left side of the stage.
"Where are you?"
More pounding. Stage right, louder now.
Debris covered the door to the black box on the left side of the stage. Silence. We heard a faint sound, people screaming on the other side. Heavy debris covered the way. We started moving what we could making a path. The men found a way to pry the door open. We turned our flashlights to the room.
Another 20 or so survivors, covered in dust, became illuminated by our flashlights.
Many crying, some injured, all afraid.
Our principal was among them. Alive but unconscious, covered by a coat from the costume room. A shirt used as a bandage, soaked with blood covered his head.
All of us, not knowing what to do, but moving anyway, began to show them the way to the band hall.
As we left, a force unkown to me made me turn to look where I had been sitting. Krissie hadn't moved. I had my proof. She was gone.
By jusylee72
Katie sat against the instrument lockers in the band hall. How did all of this happen? She looked at her arms and legs, small scratches, no real injuries. I guess I'm lucky to be here. Her mind shielded her from reality. She had been sitting two seats away from George Matthews.
George practically lived at Taft. He helped open the school back in 1985. HIs wife wanted him to retire last year, but George refused.
"I'm not ready to sit at home watching TV. I still like the kids. I still love teaching. Just give me one more year and then we will travel." George taught AP Calculus. Katie taught freshmen. He talked to Katie earlier that day. "I'm surprising Helen tonight. I bought us a seven-day cruise to Alaska. We will leave the day after graduation. I'm telling her as soon as I get home from this stupid meeting." He glowed when he talked about his wife. then he stated what many of us were thinking." If I hear one more time about how I can lose my teaching certificate over a stupid test, I think I'll explode."
Katie's mind went back to the auditorium. As soon as the floor started shaking, George stood up. He told her to run. She stood and moved as fast as she could. When she looked back George wasn't behind her. He must have fallen. The crowd was pushing her forward. He wasn't in the band hall. She desperately wanted to see his face.
Katie's thoughts changed to her own family. Was it really just this morning when she took the kids to school?
She relived the morning. Why hadn't she listened to her fears?
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"Come on little ones, we have to get going."
"He always takes too long." Big sister Trudy loved her baby brother Jeffy, but sometimes her patience would run out. "I've been trying to get this shirt on him for ten minutes. I don't want to be late to school again Mommy. My teacher hates tardy turtles."
Trudy's elementary was only three blocks from the house. 1st grade was a big deal and 6-year-old Trudy took it seriously. She did her homework every night without complaint. As much as she loved the little two years old he did interfere with her perfectionist attitude.
Katie heard her husband's voice in her head. "You know she gets it from you Miss Perfection. She also got your good looks." Even after 8 years of marriage, Gerald was still wonderful at making her feel loved. Just last night he was teasing her about her thirtieth birthday on Friday. Today was Thursday. "I have a special surprise for you. No guessing but I know you will like it."
They met in college. He was a struggling artist who was studying architecture. It was a practical way to eventually earn money while creating beautiful structures. They were in a history class together. History was not Katie's favorite subject. Gerald would draw pictures as the professor droned on about ancient Rome or whatever part of the world they were studying that week. His pictures made the words come alive and somehow helped them both learn enough to pass the tests. It took him three weeks before he was brave enough to ask her out.
"Let's go get coffee and study for tomorrow's test." Coffee turned into dinner and drinks. Even though they ended up staying out too late, they both passed the exam the next day.
Katie's childhood had been anything but perfect. Her Dad died of liver cancer when she was 10. Her Mom's depression took over their lives. Sometimes she was able to provide for Katie and her brothers. Other times the three were pawned off to friends and relatives. It was a teacher who helped Katie find where she belonged. Mrs. Whitney, her freshman math teacher was a firm but kind woman. "You're really good with numbers. They come easily to you. I'm recommending you to AP Algebra." Now 15 years later she was a math teacher.
Katie's thoughts turned back to her children.
"I've got this, Trudy. Grab you lunch box from the kitchen and make sure your homework is in your backpack. Look here little Jeffy, time to get going."
Jeffy put up a small fight up but nothing she couldn't handle. He was so full of vim and vigor as her grandma used to say. He loved hugs and kisses and laughed easily. His little smile could brighten up any gloomy day.
Katie put Jeffy in his car seat with a few minutes to spare.
"Are you buckled in Trudy? You will be on time today. No tardy turtle Trudy today." Trudy laughed at her mom's silly use of alliteration. Together they started singing it to a catchy little made up tune. "No tardy turtle Trudy, No tardy turtle Trudy, Not today."
Jeffy even tried to sing along. "TA tur, ta tur." They giggled all the way to school.
"Love you, Mom," Trudy jumped out of the car with a huge smile. "It's Daddy's day to pick me up."
She went skipping off to school. "It's just you and me now, buddy." Trudy looked so independent running into the school. "Wave bye-bye to Trudy."
It was only 15 minutes before she drove up to Jeffy's daycare. Katie was lucky to have found a good facility so close to her school. Jeffy started crying when she left him with Miss Suzy. She knew he would stop as soon as she got out the door. She still hated hearing him cry. Being a working mother was always a trade off but most couples truly need the two incomes. Besides, she loved her job. Most math teachers hated teaching freshmen algebra. She found it to be challenging and fun. Yes, those freshmen were squirrelly creatures but she connected with them.
As she approached the school a strange feeling came over her. Katie noticed the birds. They were somehow different today. They were flying low to the ground. Birds fly low when a storm is approaching. There had been nothing in the forecast for rain today. There were only a few clouds in the sky. A loud thud frightened her. She slammed on her brakes. A bird had flown directly into her windshield. He fell to the ground stunned. She froze for a few seconds. The car in back of her began honking urging her to move. The sound forced her to turn into the parking lot. Her heart was racing. What could have caused that? Birds don't just attack cars. She sat in her car for several minutes before convincing herself it was just an accident. For a short moment, she thought about calling in and going home. She was saving her sick leave for when the kids got sick which was quite often when you have daycare babies. She also wanted to take a day off for their anniversary weekend. Maybe the bird was sick and that caused it to be erratic. She convinced herself to go inside.
She calmed down when she saw three of her math junkies outside her door. They were last year's freshmen.
"Miss Thompson, I know you're not my teacher this year but could you help me study for my test today. I've got old man Phillips this year and he just doesn't explain things the way you do. There is something I don't understand."
A smile replaced her anxiety. "Come on in. Let's see what we can do.'
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Now, she was in the Band Hall, trying to understand what had happened, sitting in the dark with the others, wanting only to be home.
| Author Notes |
More and more I am realizing that the characters in this book need more defining. So even though this is the tenth chapter of the rough draft I thought I would go back to the beginning. I still want to open the book with the disaster but then I want to do an "Earlier Chapters next, That way I can introduce the characters and it will help me also understand them. I started with Katie, the Math Teacher desperate to find her children.
|
By jusylee72
By jusylee72
Sherry's head hurt. She didn't remember her outburst. Patty and the other women took care of her.
"You fainted," Patty held a cool, wet paper towel on her head."Don't move too fast yet. We are okay. We don't know exactly what happened but we are safe for now."
"How long was I out? I don't remember much except the shaking."
"Not too long, only a couple of minutes, but you need to sit here for a while."
All of the women began questioning what happened.
Carolina opened the door to the copy room beside the lounge. "The room looks safe but let's stay in groups. I'm going to look out the window."
Patty stayed with Sherry.
The others walked slowly to Carolina's office. It was connected to Tommy's office. Ceiling tiles covered her desk but the floor seemed intact. Carolina opened the adjoining door. What they all saw next truly frightened them. An open space where the wall used to be showed the devastation below. The tall light poles in the parking lot no longer stood, some prone on the ground, others bent in half. Cars on their sides or backs littered the parking lot. Windshields were shattered. Carolina recognized her own car at least forty feet from where she always parked it.
A darkening storm moved in, the wind hammering the trees. The wind continued to rip the leaves off the branches. The lightning, still distant but frightening, would be here soon.
"We need to get prepared," Olga suggested finding flashlights and anything else they might need. "We have no idea how long we will be here. We must help ourselves."
They formed groups of two and carefully explored the office area.
After several quick trips into what was left of the administrator's offices, they scavenged enough supplies to provide some comfort. The principal's office had several flashlights. The VP had a private supply of coffee and creamer plus a hidden drawer of candy bars. Others had cushions and pillows on their chairs. One of the VP's had a supply of Campbell's soup. Carolina had the key to the soda and snack machines plus they still had some leftovers from the potluck lunch. They took the chair cushions into the lounge and made a makeshift dormitory. The lost and found boxes in the closet provided coats and sweaters that could be used as covers and pillows.
After an hour they met in the lounge. The storm loudly proclaimed a new danger to their lives. Their plans were simple. Tomorrow, when the storm cleared they would venture outside and search for the others.
They missed their families. Worry consumed their minds. All of them were devoted mothers and wives. Family always came first. The inability to change anything at the moment became the only thing that helped them to cope with it. Several hours later they shivered together when another tremor hit, this one calmer, not near as threatening yet at the same time terrifying.
Evening came. The rumble of thunder resounded through the damaged hallways. Lightning streaked through the sky. Sherry, Maria, and Patty took chairs and sat in the copy room just outside the lounge. Through the open doorway, they could see straight through Carolina's office into Tommy's office. Rain poured through the open space that used to be his window. The constant lightning provided an eerie light. Thunder came in waves.
"God sure is mad at someone." Maria grew up in the Valley with her grandmother. "Grandma would say that whenever there was a big storm. She told us the scary stories she'd grown up with in Mexico.
She told us El Diablo was riding the bolts of lightning and how thunder was God scolding disobedient children. It's a wonder I didn't grow up terrified of rain."
Patty admired these older women. She wanted to know more about them. Her natural nature and curiosity led to questions simple questions.
"Maria, why did you decide to be a secretary?" The innocence in the question stirred memories in Maria's mind.
"I grew up on the poor side of town. I didn't feel poor. We always ate and our family was full of love. I went to the local high school. I was the president of the Spanish Honor Society and I made very good grades. Back then Patty, young Mexican women like me were expected to act a certain way. My senior year the counselor at the school called me in and told me she knew the best school for me. There was a popular secretary school within walking distance from our neighborhood. I never questioned why they didn't think I was college material. It was expected of me. It was many years before I realized I was just as smart and capable as the others who were sent to college. If I had to do it over, I would have studied to be a lawyer. Now I am approaching retirement age. I couldn't change my life but I encourage my children and grandchildren to be whatever they want to be."
"Do you resent the way they treated you now that you know what you could have been?" Patty, for all her 24 years, seemed incredibly vulnerable.
"Resentment has filled my mind at times. However, I married well. I lived and loved well. The little things get to me sometimes. Sometimes our bosses still refer to us as "The Girls". I don't think they mean it badly, but we are professionals and we do our jobs well. For example; The teachers never have to clock out to eat lunch, and they have 48 minutes compared to our 30, yet if we don't remember to clock out and back in we are reprimanded. Often times, we are treated with disrespect by parents and sometimes by administrators, but there again if I dwell on that I might become a bitter old woman. How much fun would life be if I lived that way?"
Sherry listened to Maria as she talked to Patty. In this short time, she developed a strong bond with this young lady. Patty indeed was a lovely soul. I wish she could have met my son.
The night turned into a grown up slumber party where new relationships developed and old friendships deepened.
At one in the morning, Maria decided to stop talking and call it a night. The storm was still raging. Patty and Sherry stayed a short while longer.
Sherry noticed concern in Patty's eyes. The two of them hadn't talked about the rape or possible pregnancy with the others.
"Sherry, we still don't know for sure that I am pregnant, but what if I am? Do you know Doug, the athletic trainer? He asked me out this morning. We were going to a get dinner and a movie. I really want to get to know him. He seems funny and kind and I like that in a man. If I am pregnant, I'm sure he'll reject me."
"Patty, we really don't know anything yet." Once again her Psychology Voice responded. "We can only live the day we are given. Don't rush tomorrow. Work on who you are today. The rest will work itself out."
Listen to me. the one with pills in her medicine cabinet, ready to commit suicide. How hypocritical is that? I suppose it's my training. This young girl has her whole life to live. I always was a good counselor.
Sherry couldn't admit her heart felt a small bit better. Her medicine cabinet still held her secret.
"Let's call it a night and hope the others are safe in the auditorium. We'll talk more tomorrow."
They had no idea how wrong they were.
| Author Notes |
Teachers are an eclectic group, Math, science, home ec, fine arts, wood working, electronics, physics, cafeteria workers. Think of the possibility of so much knowledge in a disaster situation. Many are killed right away. No help can reach them for at least a week. What will they do with the dead? Food? Everyone is missing their families. Here is their story.
|
By jusylee72
Doug needed more help in the band hall. He appointed a triage team: The head coach, two of the younger coaches, a biology teacher, and our orchestra director. Bob Jones, a staunchly conservative Catholic had seven children. An avid boy scout troop leader and eagle scout, he knew how to survive in the wilderness. In his mind, this was just a concrete wilderness, waiting to be conquered.
Mitchell Murphy was in tremendous pain. As an assistant principal in charge of discipline, he performed his job to his best abilities. As a former coach and basketball player, he lived through injuries before.
"You have a compound fracture. I have no choice. I must attempt to set the leg. I won't lie to to you. This is really going to hurt.
It wasn't going to be easy. Mitch was six foot five inches and close to three hundred pounds.
"Coach, you and the other two have to hold him down. I have to lift the bone up first then try to get them together. It will be extremely painful."
Unfortunately, it took three attempts. He used two trombone slides to splint the leg. The men did a great job during the procedure. Afterward, one of the younger men went into the hallway and threw up.
Tommy Sanchez, our principal was in the worst shape. He had a massive head injury. He still had not gained consciousness.
Melanie our head counselor, injuries were also life threatening. She was conscious but confused. Mary, the biology teacher sat beside her trying to comfort her.
When he finally had a spare minute, Doug asked if anyone of the coaches had seen Patty. The woman's basketball coach spoke up. "She left to the bathroom about ten minutes before the shaking. She went out the other side of the auditorium. The side by the main office. I haven't seen her since but I don't think she is in the auditorium."
A sigh of relief filled Doug with hope but then a new fear entered. He had opened the door on that side. The floor had vanished. Hopefully, she made it to the faculty bathroom in the main office. He couldn't leave to find out. He had too much to do.
-----------------------
Judy
I heard the screams from our assistant principal through the walls between the two band halls. I remembered what I had in my purse. I had my left knee replaced the year before. It was doing great. However, I wasn't quite ready to have the right knee done yet. Most of the time I could manage the pain. Lately, I had taken up swimming and it was truly helping. However, my doctor had prescribed Vicoden for when if would bother me. I rarely took it at work, but I did have it in my purse. I picked up my purse and went into the band hall.
"Doug, I want you to take this for the ones who need it. It may not be legal to give other people my prescription but I'm fine and they need it much more than I do. It is Vicoden. I also have some Tylenol three. Some of the other older teachers may also have a few helpful drugs."
Doug nodded his head.
"Let me know if you need some later. You might start hurting later tonight. It's been a stressful day."
Once again I noticed how gentle he was. He took the pills and got a bottle of water. Mitch was in the corner of the room. He was sweating and in tremendous pain. Doug gave him two of the pills. Thirty minutes later Mitch was asleep. We covered him up with a piano cover. He had to stay warm.
I felt the adrenaline start to leave my body. I sat down for what I thought would be a brief moment. I woke up to silence. I must have been asleep for several hours. All the flashlights were off to save batteries. The darkness was overwhelming.
Fear overtook every part of me. The realization that I may never see my family again could no longer be denied. Tears racked my body. My phone had a tiny bit of life left. I turned the dim light on. I saw my hands. They were stained with dirt and blood, not my own. There was a small amount of water left in a bottle beside me. I used it to clean my face. I slipped back into sleep.
When I awoke this time I heard conversations. The back door was open. The light was beginning to rise bringing an orange haze to the sky. I made my way to the door. Devastation surrounded us. Fires were still burning. Rubble piles reminded me of the Twin Towers during 911.
The cars outside were useless. No visible road was passable. For the first time in my life, I was grateful my two oldest children lived out of state. Matthew, my youngest, worked near the airport, thirty miles from here. I tried to imagine him safe.
We were in a gruesome guessing game. The speculations started last night. Several spoke up.
"Could it have been a bomb?"
"The explosion was so loud, it had to be close."
"The second one felt like an earthquake."
"Yes, I know I felt the ground shake the second time. The first explosion surrounded us. "
" I heard a bunch of small explosions."
"Aliens? Apocolypse?"
The evangelist on our staff spoke up against that one. "I would have been saved. It might be the days before the end of the world, but God would take me."
The science teachers in our group came up with the most logical scenario. They believe it was an earthquake. It caused gas lines to explode. That would explain the small fires all around us. In the distance dark, heavy clouds were gathering, the wind pushing them slowly toward us. I smelled imminent rain. I was sure it would start tonight.
Several others joined me at the door. We started to plan.
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Leadership was everywhere. We were trying to cooperate. So far we didn't have anyone competing to be the leader. I feared that would eventually happen.
We weren't to the point of having to form committees. We just started talking.
"Rain is coming soon. We need to collect water."
"Do you have any disinfectant spray? We need to clean out the trash cans. We can use them to hold the water."
"Thank God for Marching season. We have to keep the students hydrated so we have large thermoses. There in the closet to the right."
"The cafeteria is around the corner. Maybe it's fine. We need to divide up and explore."
"There will be glass and debris. We need to protect ourselves."
"We have white gloves in the uniform cabinet."
We began to realize how lucky we were to be in a band hall. They had tools, knives for making reeds, fundraiser junk food, practice rooms, ladders, thermoses, carts. None of us wanted to think of our families. We wanted something to do.
I was among the group that could no longer wait. We had to step out of here and find what we needed.
I was so happy I was wearing tennis shoes. Some of our fashioned minded teachers were hobbled by their high heels.
Breakfast was our first concern. No one was complaining yet, but we all knew hunger would soon find us.
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Nine of us were going to the cafeteria. We had no idea what we were going to find. Ken, the custodian had keys to the building. Randall, the calculus teacher, volunteered. So did two of the home ec teachers. The head coach and the two assistants from last night also volunteered again and me. One of our physic teachers, Jeff, also wanted to help
We put gloves on our hands for partial protection. We took pen and paper to take notes if we found food. We took flashlights. We found a broom in the closet that would help clear our way. We also took a pushcart used to move large instruments.
We opened the door. The hallway was dimly lit from the outside windows. Our cafeteria was large. The ceiling to floor windows at the far end was shattered. They still stood high. Another aftershock would tumble them. The cafeteria lines were caged in. Unfortunately, they were electronic. We would have to find a way to cut through them. Our other choice was to go out the door by the shattered window. We feared that even a small noise would cause the wall of glass to implode.
Our discussion was short. Ken said he would try the back door first. Once he got through he would come out and tell us. We could see through the cage into the back kitchen. It looked as if it was still intact. The cafeteria workers go home by three o'clock every day. They should have left before the explosion. That gave me hope that we wouldn't find anyone hurt or dead in there. We stood on the ramp to the cafeteria floor and watch as he tiptoed through ceiling tiles on the floor. He opened the door slowly afraid to disturb the glass. It may have only been a few minutes but it seemed much longer. When he came back to the door frame he motioned for three people to come first. The outside dumpster was blocking the door to the cafeteria. The men were able to move it. They motioned for us to follow.
The air was crisp as we walked outside. We stood looking for any sign of life. I wanted to see buildings. There was just more rubble. The lone church steeple was still standing in the distance.
The sky was getting darker. We needed to hurry before the storm hit. Those windows could fall trapping us outside. The large steel door was still intact. Ken fumbled with his large keychain until he found the right key.
I was overcome with wonder as we walked into the kitchen. It was shiny, clean the way the workers always left it. The walk-in cooler was by the back entrance. Our school cafeteria fed over two thousand students a day. We were excited to open the freezer. Even though there was no electricity it was still cold. The steel doors kept the cold air in. The home ec teachers took the writing pads and flashlights.
"Let's take a quick inventory." Macy had been at Taft for eighteen years. She was the head of the culinary unit. She was in her comfort zone. It was easy for her to tell us what to do.
"The rest of you find the pantry. Use the large pans to collect food we can use today. We will have to create a system. For now think simple, bread, peanut butter, jelly, cereal. I'm pretty sure cold cuts and cheese are in the walk-in. Bring the condiment packages. It's been less than 24 hours, the milk still may be good. We might as well use it now. It won't last. Check to see if there is bottled water in the back. We will have to ration that."
We scrambled a bunch of kids on a scavenger hunt. I felt the excitement of the group with each item we found. We were smiling making jokes, laughing. Jeff and Ken were trying to figure out a way to get the cages open so that we could go out without passing the fragile wall. "There must be a release switch somewhere, a manual override." Jeff was so logical. "Otherwise it would be a fire hazard for the school and would never have been installed."
I found a huge push broom. I was going to sweep my way back to the band hall so that the path was clear enough for our cart to get through when we went back.
Randle found trash bags. He began loading Gatorade, waters, juice boxes into the bag. He insisted we take the cookies. We put bread in the large pans. Cereal, milk, all of the things that Macy suggested. Macy and Cindy walked out of the walk in. They needed something to carry the cold cuts in. They grabbed the nearest containers.
I heard Ken's voice. "We found it. We can get out this way." Jeff was pushing the cage up.
Lightning lit up the cafeteria through the shattered wall. A loud clap of thunder followed quickly. The sound shook me, the volume deafening. Rain poured through the ceiling. The glass wall began to crack. It wavered precariously. It had a life of its own. It decided to tease us longer. It didn't fall. Not yet.
We gathered our treasures and headed to the band hall.
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The push broom was a good idea. I was able to clear some of the debris in front of us on the way back from the cafeteria. We were greeted with smiling faces when we returned. A small group of teachers had already rearranged one of the band closets. The shelves had been emptied and the band equipment had been moved to the ensemble room. Our little pantry store began to take shape.
My amateur weather forecasting was accurate.
Thunder rumbled loudly, shaking the unsteady walls in our building. We watched the lightning through the open hallway door at the end of the corridor. Bright flashes of orange and red. There were ten steps leading up to the door outside. Water was already up to the 4th one. Small gushing rivers poured down the parking lot. Our school was built on a small hill. The main parking lot was flooded. Many started talking about venturing out and seeing what had happened. The weather would stop that from happening today.
One of the statistic's teachers, Alan, asked our band director for the phone list. Mine was stapled to my bulletin board in my office. We always get one at the beginning of the year. We all filled out a beginning of the year band forms that he found in the closet. Names, useless phone numbers that were once our connection to the world, addresses of our homes even though we didn't know if they were still intact, family information in case of emergency. He cross-referenced them with the phone list. Now we knew who was here and who was missing. I started to laugh when I saw the words - "Who should we contact in case of an emergency?" Today obviously qualified however it seemed senseless when we had no way to be rescued or transportation to leave and find our loved ones. It was a starting point, a point of reference.
Alan found some paper in the copier and began a list of survivors. Sadly, he also made a list of those who did not make it and those who were missing.
There we 64 of us in the band hall. I was surprised at how many people I didn't know. The teachers tended to stay in their own areas of the school. Now, all we knew was our new temporary home, a carpeted band hall. It was about the size of a basketball court and furnished with 150 band chairs and music stands. The tympani and the larger drums had been pushed into the corner. There were no windows only a back door to one side, an office space between the two band halls and a second smaller room. Right now they seemed structurally safe. There were a few blankets used to cover some of the equipment. We had plenty of useless electrical equipment. We had band uniforms for warmth. We had food. It was time for a meeting.
Many of us had already formed small groups. Some were talking to the people from their own departments. Older teachers seemed to congregate together. With no formality, we began to organize the chairs in a large two-row circle.
| Author Notes |
The True Test, Chapter one Teachers are asked to stay late for mandatory Standardized Testing in the auditorium. Towards the end of the training, something causes a massive explosion. Some die instantly, Some suffer. They find shelter in the band hall.
Chapter 2 - The survivors decide to go back to see if they have any more survivors in the Auditorium. They find two alive, but injured. The after shock kills them both. However they hear a pounding and discover a room with people including their principal who is gravely injured. Chapter 3 - We need food. |
By jusylee72
After our discussion, we all agreed to form a search party in the morning. We need to know if there are other survivors and if they need help.
"We can go by the computer rooms." Doug was anxious to find Patty. "The only people who weren't in the auditorium when the shaking started is our office staff. We need to find out what has happened to them. I also heard from some of you that people saw Patty and Sherry leave during the vignettes. We need to find out if they are ok."
The next morning we awoke to cool temperatures and a fresh breeze. It was the perfect morning to venture into the outside world. Several of the coaches joined Doug on the exploration. The computer hallway was damaged and dangerous. None the less, the young men cautiously stepped through it. As they approached the office, the floor became unstable. To go further could cause another cave in. Nothing but rubble could be seen on the floor below them.
"Carolina. Anyone. Can you hear me? Are you okay?" The men spoke with loud clear voices. They couldn't get any closer. They would just have to hope they could make contact. "Carolina, anyone, where are you guys?" A head peeked out the side door of the teacher's lounge. It was Patty.
"There's ten of us in here. We can't get out to you yet. We may be able to go around the building out front and make our way around now that the rain has stopped. Are you all still in the auditorium?"
Doug was relieved to see her. "No, the auditorium is destroyed. We will try to send a group around to you and help you to join us. We are in the band hall. Do you have food and water."
"We are okay, some minor injuries but overall we are okay. We have a few supplies, at least enough for today. Can you come around from the outside? The front steps are still intact. I think we can get to them."
"Okay, it will take us a while, but we will find a way."Doug sighed with relief. "Sorry about missing our date, Patty. Something came up, or should I say down."
Doug's attempt at humor made Patty laugh. Even though the last two days were stressful, she somehow felt stronger. She now had true friends she could trust. Sometimes disaster does make good people act better than they knew they could."
"No, problem, Doug," Patty yelled back at the group. "Let's make that date for tomorrow."
She watched the men turn around before she went back in the lounge with the wonderful news, there were other survivors.
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The rubble in the parking lot made the trek difficult but not impossible. The search party made it around to the front in about 30 minutes.
Patty and the others were sitting on the front steps waiting for them. An hour later we welcomed them to our makeshift home. None of us wanted to tell them about the deaths in our group but we had to be honest. Carolina took the death of our principal, Tommy, extremely hard.
We were tired of staying indoors. Most of us ventured out and sat in the sun.
So much to do now. Being outside gave us a new sense of freedom.
I picked out Sherry from the front office group. "So happy to see you, Sherry. Are you truly alright?'
Sherry and I had been friends for years. We weren't as close as Krissie and I were, but we had a deep respect for each other. She asked me to go for a short walk with her. We slowly walked to an open spot where we could see the expanse of the parking lot. We sat on two large cement blocks that were probably remnants of the gym.
"I'm fine."
Her words contrasted with her face. I asked her to walk over to one of our newly built sitting areas. We sat on two concrete blocks. They were probably part of our former gym.
"So much has happened to you in the last few years. Now, we are facing a whole new challenge. Are you sure you are okay."
"Grief is a strange horse to ride. The last two days I have learned a few new things about myself and life. Of course, I am not all that happy, but today I feel a little more content."
She told me a little about the young girl, Patty. "I would have liked for someone like her to meet my son. She is smart, funny and athletic. He would have really liked her." The old sadness returned to her eyes.
Abruptly she stopped, "What is that?" She pointed in the distance to a small figure in the middle of the parking lot.
"Where?" then I saw movement. "It looks like a child, but what is she carrying?" We both called for help from the others.
"Coach Neil, Is that a child out there?" She was all the way on the street at least five hundred yards away from us. Coach grabbed a couple of the young men and headed out. The image stood still. If it was a girl, she was wearing a backpack and holding a doll. It took twenty minutes to reach her. They knelt down so as not to scare her. We could see one of the young men gently lift her into his arms and head back to us. The child refused to put down the doll.
"Someone run in and get Doug. She may be hurt."
Doug rushed out. He looked directly at me and asked me for help. "Get one of the water bottles. She may not have eaten in three days."
He ran out to meet the group. The first thing he noticed was that the child was silent, refusing to talk. The second thing he discovered is that the doll was a living baby.
What we thought was a backpack was actually a diaper bag. A small can of formula and a bottle were in the bottom pocket.
Sherry offered to help with the two children. Years ago she had thought of stopping teaching to become a children's counselors. She followed the young coach still holding both children into the building.
We all wanted to greet the child but our instincts told us to back off and give her the space she needed. With her background in child pshchology, Sherry was the best person to help.
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Jimmy knew it was time to leave and try to find his much-needed medicine. Five men volunteered to go with him.
I would have loved to be one of them but I was in my fifties and my knees would slow them down. Their plan was simple. They would go to Sam's car first and get the weapon. Then they would head down the main street in front of the school. They planned on going to the pharmacy at Walmart. We had no idea what else they would find. We hoped there were other survivors who would be willing to help.
We tried to come up with scenarios. Would they need money? Right now credit cards were useless. They might be able to find the Pharmacy but how would they get in? Would there be people vandalizing? Would we have to bribe them? Would they recognize our medical needs and help us or would they have to fight to get what we needed?
Some of the band students left backpacks in their instrument lockers. Mr. Statistics, as we now jokingly called him, kept track of who it might belong to by the names written on the front covers of the school books. We didn't want to steal but we did want to use anything that might help us. We found some old plastic bags and put drinks and sandwiches in them for the explorers. It felt good that someone was leaving for a little while. We craved outside knowledge.
The parking lot looked like it was passable by foot. Many of us stood on the small porch at the top of the steps. It was as if we were asking them to climb Mount Everest. We waved goodbye and expected to see them again that evening.
True to our words we started working in smaller committees.
One of our science teachers was an avid camper. He came up with a makeshift outhouse. At first, we all wandered into the bathrooms across from the band hall, but they quickly became unusable and stuffed. We had plenty of concrete outside. Some of the men carried it in. We made one practice room for women and one for men. We made a square structure with a whole in the middle. We put a large garbage bag around it. We would use a trash can for our liquid waste and the bags for our other functions. For now, we had enough bags to replace them every day with a new one. None of us planned on being here forever. We could tie them up and take it to a designated dump zone outside. It might not become our favorite job, but necessity made it one we could all share.
We were all wearing the same clothes we came in school with. I had a few spare shirts in my office and a sweater. We didn't have water for bathing. However, a few blocks away was a gym with an inside swimming pool. We fantasized about jumping in and washing our hair. One of our science teachers ruined the dream when he pointed out that the pumps wouldn't work and that soon that water would be full of bacteria.
Some of us wanted to explore the rest of the school. I especially wanted to go to my choir room. "It's just down the hall on the right." I talked Maggie into going with me. My room had no windows or outside doors. I was almost sure it could be a safe place to expand our new home. It would really help to have more room for everyone. We also needed to go back to the cafeteria and see what else we needed now that we had been there a little while. On our first venture, we were rushed out of there by the storm. Now we realized we needed things like dish soap, plastic trays, more garbage bags, cooking pans.
The weather felt pleasantly cool. Some of our science teachers built a fire pit. The walk in freezer was no longer a freezer but some food was still cold enough to save. I remembered seeing large cans of chili and cheese in the pantry. Maybe there were hot dogs in the back of the cooler that were still good. I'm sure they have a can opener in there. A barbecue sounded wonderful.
As a group, we decided to have a least one other person with us if we went anywhere. We didn't want someone to fall into a hole or have something fall on them without anyone knowing. It wasn't a demand, it was an expectation. Funny the way we all threw out teacher language when we wanted to get our points across. In teaching the word expectation is softer than a demand. It simply means - "This is what I want you to do in order to succeed in my class and to get a good grade." We simply wanted to live in our temporary new world. Our expectations were to make that happen.
I loved that word - Temporary. Surely by this time next week, we would all be back with our families. There was no guarantee but there was hope.
We still didn't have an official leader though some tended to lead more than others. There were still many tears at night especially from the young mothers missing their children. We tried to comfort them. We will know more tomorrow.
Most of us jumped into work finding our own little niche to clean up or organize. It sounded silly but I was so proud of my little push broom. I cleaned the hallway outside. I turned the corner toward my room. I asked Maggie to go with me. We made a pathway to my door. It was still locked. I used my key to open it hoping I would find a new little oasis.
There were no emergency lights in my room. It was so dark. Too dark to enter without a flashlight. I should have brought one. Why didn't I think this through? Then I heard it- a snarl, a nasty snarl. There were four eyes staring at us. Raccoons. Several years ago we knew some raccoons inhabited the attic in the school. The school system called animal control and we had been assured none were left. Raccoons may look sweet but they can be terrifying if cornered and hungry. These guys were both. They must have fallen through the ceiling tiles during the explosion. Maggie and I backed off. Before I could slam the door shut they came screaming out into the hallway. I must have looked like a strange little old lady battling raccoons with a push broom. They scampered away from us toward another part of the building. I had let the beasts loose.
Maggie and I started laughing uncontrollably. Three days ago I could not imagine myself battling forest monsters in my school. Now I was armed and dangerous and giggling so hard I slightly peed my pants. Maggie was no help she thought the whole thing would have looked great on America's Funniest Home Videos.
It felt good to laugh even though my heart was in my throat by the sudden appearance of critters. We went back to the band hall to get flashlights and some extra people just in case there were more of them. We returned better equipped and were able to see the state of my room. It did smell bad. The raccoons had been there for three days. They had left droppings everywhere. Except for the fallen ceiling tiles the room looked as if it might be usable. It would have to be cleaned up but it would be worth the effort.
Note to self from now on, go back to the girl scout days and always be prepared. Well, I really didn't know if I was qualified to call myself a girl scout. I got kicked out of girl scouts when I was eleven years old.
I know that sounds really bad but the true story is somewhat ridiculous.
I went to the first meeting of Troop 243. The other girls liked me and I was elected to be the troop leader. I was super excited and immediately started to plan a hiking and camping trip. However, the troop leader had anther idea. Mrs. Irvin wanted us to sew. She decided we were going to make potholders and napkins. The idea of sewing was appalling to me. Instead of acting mature about it, I quit going to meetings. About four weeks later, Mrs. Irvin's daughter knocked on my door. I had my sister open the door.
"This is to inform you that Judy Coleman is no longer a member of the Girls Scouts of America."
The next day I was walking home from school and another little girl stopped me.
"You're Judy Coleman aren't you." She smirked, "You can never be a girl scout anywhere in America again. You are on the girl scout blacklist!"
It took me years to realize there really is no "Girl Scout Black List."
Maggie enjoyed the story as I told it to her.
We had a brief moment of silliness before devastation hit us once more. Our "Explorer Team" was back. It was only about two in the afternoon. They made it down the main street. There was no way to get to what used to be the Walmart. The earth had split. There was a large chasm between us and that side of the world. Now we were sure it had been an earthquake. The chasm was at least 200 feet across and 300 feet down. The huge rainstorm had filled it with water. We might eventually be able to cross it if it dried up but we didn't have the right equipment right now.
Jimmy looked tired and beaten for a moment. Then he looked at us. "Tomorrow, we will go the other way. I think there is a pharmacy on old 1560. It will be about four or five miles from here. We did find a seven eleven. Several people were dead in there. There were no signs of vandalism. We were able to get batteries, painkillers and cold medicine. We brought back as much as we could in our backpacks. Next time we need a better plan. We need ways to transport things back for us."
My mind drifted, "Be Prepared." What the heck did that have to do with Pot Holders?
| Author Notes | The girl scout story is true. I hope you don't think less of me for being on the Girl Scout Black List. Also , several years ago we did have Raccoons in our ceiling at school. They find they way through vents. We had to lock down the school briefly when one fell in. The exterminators did come in and remove them. |
By jusylee72
Katie wept inconsolably. There was nothing we could say to make her stop crying. Both of her children unreachable because of the chasm in the road, her two-year old's daycare 10 miles down Culebra, Her 6-year-old daughter in an elementary school on the other side of 1604.
"I picked that daycare because it was on the way home, just 15 minutes away. Straight down the street. Now you are telling me there is a chasm, a physical chasm, between me and my children. An indentation in the earth that is slowly filling with the water. How am I going to get there? Who is taking care of them? What can I do now? Where do I go? It was a fifteen-minute ride from here. 15 minutes. Billy had a fever one month ago. They called me. All I had to do was go to Tommy and say I had to leave and he said, "That's fine. We'll cover your class."
"Now it is half way across the world. My daughter's school is another three miles down the road near our house. I have no way of helping them. Are they hungry? Cold? I can't do this. I have to find them."
As women, we went to her. How do we help? We have no answers either. One of the history teachers told me that a wagon train in the old days would travel between 10 and 20 miles a day. We only knew modern times, where we left our children with others and picked them up after school or called our husbands and Mother-in-laws if there was a problem.
I had to say something.
"We can't see that far now. A few miles down the road it may be intact. It may be normal. It may be fine. Your husband may have them. We have no communication but I want you to have hope. They want to have a mother to come back to. You can't fall apart. You have to stay strong. I have no answers but we won't give up we will find a way. It may not be tomorrow, but we will find a way."
I saw in her eyes that she believed me. I stopped talking and bowed my head. I wasn't much of a church person but they always say "There are no Atheists in Fox Holes." I definitely felt as if we lived in a deep little pit that some random Fox had lived in. I know Fox Holes for the military are dug out by troops. This one was made by nature and right now inescapable.
It was about four O'clock now. I'd been working on getting my choir room in order. There was so much space. The main classroom, a smaller ensemble room, five practice rooms, two closets, one with Christmas Decorations, one with more useless electronics. It still smelled bad but I found some pine cleaner in the closet. I Poured it on the areas I knew the raccoons had pooped in. I found a pack of cards and some other games I kept in my closet.
Outside, we had a fire going. Earlier in the morning, some of the group made another trek to the cafeteria and found some large pans and cans of Chili and Cheese. I was thrilled when I saw hot dogs on the make believe grill they made. Some one's car grill was now providing us with dinner. We stood around laughing and enjoying our little barbecue
One of the home Ec teachers had found the sewing kit in the uniform room. She had been sitting beside the fire sewing something by hand, I wasn't sure what. The material looked like some of our band's concert tuxedos Later when she used it as a pot holder to remove the hot pan of chili from the fire, I had a small personal chuckle. "Well Mrs. Irvin, meanest Girl Scout sponsor in the world, you would be proud of what Elissa made today." I guess pot holders are part of survival.
| Author Notes |
, Teachers have to stay after school for mandatory Standardized Test Training. Many of them sense something is wrong. They want to go home. They stick to their obligations. When the explosion comes they have no idea that an earthquake, the largest ever recorded, has ruptured the gas lines outside their building. Most of Texas is destroyed. All around them is devastation. The Auditorium is damaged. They are able to get to the band hall across from the auditorium. They have no idea how much damage surrounds them. They are a group of about 70 teachers and administrators, custodians, etc. They have so many different talents and skills. How will they survive?
|
By jusylee72
My car was parked a short distance from the Volkswagen. It rolled on its side. I asked a few of the younger men teachers if we could try to roll it off its side. They were able to get it to bounce down. Two of my tires were flat but the car, in general, looked like it might work. I had a charger. I was anxious to call my husband. My phone was in my office so I offered to let anyone else who wanted to try to charge their phone to go ahead. I went back in and got my keys and my phone.
One of my greatest weaknesses was about to become a wonderful asset. I never kept a clean car. It drove my husband completely nuts. Texas weather changes by the minute. I would often come to work with a sweater or coat. By the end of the day, it was too hot to use it so I would just throw it in the back seat. I found 4 sweaters, a pair of sweat pants, two t-shirts and a jacket in my car. The night before the disaster I shopped at the dollar store. I took the bags that were in the trunk inside my house. I forgot about the ones in the back seat. Smiling I opened one of the bags, seven Candles. I was a candle fanatic. I would rather have a beautiful smelling candle than new earrings. I kept searching. I also had a bag of dollar store snacks and candy. The last bag contained cleaning supplies, the generic form of Mr. Clean and Windex and the cheap version of pine sol. There was also a large bottle of shampoo and deodorant.
The young men were still charging their phones when I opened the trunk. Here again, I hit the jackpot. Two blankets I always kept for emergencies. Jumper cables, I was sure we could use those and a 24 pack of beer plus a six-pack of wine coolers. What the heck was that doing there? Then I remembered we were going to go to my youngest son's Matthews house the next day after school. He was having friends over and asked us to bring some of the drinks. Doug must have bought it when he filled my car up with gas. We were planning on barbecuing with the family. The idea of drinking a beer in the school seemed deliciously naughty and fun. We also weren't allowed to have candles in our offices. Those rules would have to change at least for now. For now, I shut the trunk and kept it a secret.
Even though I wished I was at Matthew's house enjoying family and friends and good food, I still felt blessed. I was at a different barbecue, with a different type of family. We sat almost content beside the fire. The sunset changed the sky. Pinks mixed with oranges and yellows filled the horizon. None of us wanted to go inside. It was too dark in there. Once again I thought of the blessings of the candles.
Our spirits had been lifted. Contact with the outer world reassured us that we could make it through the next few days. Most of us were able to reach someone. The cars became our new source of wonder. We would have to maintain that resource. I was so grateful my husband had filled up my car the night before.
After charging my phone, I called Doug. He answered on the first ring. We both burst into tears knowing that we were okay. Doug was at our house. He was a cement driver. He had gone to work at 2:30 in the morning so he was done with his shift by 2 in the afternoon. He was with our dogs. He said our two Jack Russel Terriers started acting strangely a few minutes before the earthquake. Precious started whining and went under the blanket. Spirits ears went down and he jumped up in the chair. Our house was built in 1890, we lived in the historical town of Grey Forest. Our street used to be a stagecoach line. We had a two story stone house. The ten inch thick walls stayed intact. The back part of the house which was added on later was damaged but Doug said it was still standing.
His first concern, of course, was his mother. Peggy lives less than a block from us in another historical home. As soon as the shaking stopped, Doug checked outside. He didn't risk taking the truck. He put his running shoes on and ran down to Moms. He found both Glen and Mom safe but badly shaken. Both of them are in their 80's.
The phones were out and there were no passable streets to my part of town. Finally, on the second night. Doug heard from Mandy in Minnesota and Nik in Florida. They were gravely worried about me. Doug didn't hear from Matthew until a few hours ago. Matthew works at the BMW dealer next to the airport. He insisted that he was okay but he was injured when the car he was working on fell on him. Another worker used a hand jack to get Matthew out. He had a severe cut on his right thigh. The quake wasn't as strong where they were. Some of the roads were still passable. The workers were able to take Matthew across the street to the Airport where medical help was available. He was stitched up and on pain medication. Matthew begged Doug to find a way to come get him. Knowing my husband I knew he would do that as soon as possible. My heart pounded with both relief and fear. I wanted to be with my family.
My time on the phone was running out. I told him I could only talk a few minutes more since we had to save our phones. Doug said he would call the children. We started to cry again. "These three days were really hard on me not knowing where you were. I miss you and love you." He understood I had to get off the phone. He too was using his truck to charge his phone but he had a full tank of gas and didn't have to share like I did.
Before I hung up I told him the sad news.
"Krissie didn't make it Doug. She died during the first few moments."
Tearfully, I told him as much as I remembered. Skeeter, Krissie's husband was one of Doug's best friends. We all enjoyed playing golf together.
Doug was heart broken. "I just talked to Skeeter an hour ago. He was wondering if I had heard anything. Now, what do I do? I don't know if I can manage to tell him. I just don't. Skeeter and I were already making plans to meet up and go find you guys. We would have found away. I know he is going to call again soon. Oh, Judy, I am so sorry. I know she is your best friend." His voice dropped. "or was your best friend."
I tried to make him listen. "I have no answer for you. I miss Krissie terribly. You may have to tell him or you may want to wait. I don't know the answer to that but Doug, I am safe for now. Please don't do anything foolish trying to get to me. Please get Matthew if you can. Promise." Reluctantly, he did. "I'll call tomorrow."
The great emotions, the connection with family came crashing down into the realization once again that I had lost my best friend. My true funny sister who made me laugh at stupid things and hated the STAAR test as much as I do. Our golf games were always fun and adventurous in our own special way. We would enjoy our beers and our great shots and make fun of our bad shots and our husbands. I trusted her with all parts of my life.
I walked back to the fire. Emotions were worn on our sleeves. Most of us had a least some good news, some of us had devastating news, some of us had no news. We quickly fell back into the mode of what do we do next. Keeping busy was our greatest therapy.
I ended up with a group of the older teachers. Proudly, I invited them to my new apartment, the choir room. I felt like a real estate mogul and told them they were welcome to stay with me. I claimed the office as my room. I snore extremely loud. It had been hard in the band hall with all of those people. More than once someone had awakened me and asked me to move over. I was happy that I could have my own little place to sleep. That still left the large ensemble room and seven small rooms and closets. It wasn't carpeted like the band hall but there were some blankets and other props we could use to make the place comfortable. We had a card table. I also had a variety of games and puzzles. We took them with us when my choir students had audition days. The audition process was slow. Sometimes my students had to stay in the cafeteria waiting for hours. Our Goody Box, as we called it, would help them pass the hours in a fun way. Yahtzee was a favorite. We also had trivial pursuit and Taboo.
Tonight was going to be fun. Four of my friends started moving their meager belongings into to the new space. Later we would name it "The Women's Room" after the novel by feminist Marilyn French. We were from that generation. We were the first generation who as women were told we could be anything we wanted to be. On the other hand, our main role models as women were our mothers who were "stay-at-home" wives. We had life stories to tell.
Most of all, we had candles. Sweet smelling candles, snacks from the dollar store and soon we were going to sneak in a 24 pack of beer and some wine coolers.
It wasn't that I didn't want to share. There simply wasn't enough for everyone. Also, believe it or not just like the high school students with their little clicks, we had some faculty members who were straight rules followers. I had some problems with one of them. She had turned me into administration one day for leaving five minutes early. I didn't want to risk being snitched on. Three of us went to my car. One to carry the beer, one to carry the wine coolers and one to hold the flash light. We covered up our contraband with the blankets in my car. We were giggling like teenagers all the way through the hallways. When we got in the door of my room we couldn't stop laughing. We hid it in my office like quilty thieves. It was going to be a fun night.
| Author Notes |
Teachers at a high school have to stay after school for mandatory Test Training. Towards the end of the meeting there is a massive explosion. Some die instantly, Some suffer. They find shelter in the band hall.
Chapter 2 - The survivors decide to go back to see if they have any more survivors in the Auditorium. They find two alive, but injured. The after shock kills them both. However they hear a it and discover a room with people including their principal who is gravely injured. Chapter 3 - We need food. 4 - 9 embarrassing in the journey. Learning about themselves and others.�?????????�????????�???????�??????�?????�????�???�??�?� In the chapter before this one they finally find a car to charge a phone in. One of the character has great news about her family. Help s be coming but will not be immediate. Maybe several weeks to a month |
By jusylee72
Jeremy Jones was the physics teacher the students refer to as "Jumping Jones". He had such a passion for life and teaching. Sometimes, when his students seem to catch on to a particularly hard challenge he would begin jumping up and down with excitement. "Eureka." he would shout. Then he would inform them that they must jump in with him and enjoy this wondrous moment.
"The world isn't full of idiots today. We did it. Eureka. I found it. I found It. Eureka!"
He was yelling it now. "Eureka." He was running toward our fire.
"I did it." He was out of breath but didn't stop talking."It took me a while to find the right car but I found it. That little Volkswagen. I was able to hotwire it. The radio is working. Come with me, it isn't far. I have it on the news channel. We aren't crazy. It was an earthquake with gas explosions. There may be a way to let them know something. Who wants to come listen hear the news?"
I made my way with the crowd. It was on talk radio. "Friday Science". They were talking about the earthquake in Texas. We heard words like -"worst one ever." - "San Antonio will never be the same." - "Covered an area close to 900 miles." - "San Antonio was the center."
They were interviewing the mayor.
"We've been warning the world about global warming for years. Now we have proof. The oil fields and their endless "Fracking" has left Texas vulnerable to trouble. Rescue crews have only been able to approach the outskirts of the San Antonio area. The Red Cross will be sending helicopter supplies in soon. However, it is highly unlikely that many people survived. The devastation is too extensive. Aftershocks are still rocking the earth."
Another reporter jumped in. "What advice do you have for anyone who might have survived."
"Find shelter. Find a way to make sure we can see you from the air. I am not going to kid you. It may be weeks before we can get through to you. You will have to be resourceful. We will be trying to find you. I promise you that. For now, you must rely on yourselves. "
Jones was the first to say it.
"We need to build a structure or sign that lets them know we are alive. We need to find a way to get on the roof. They won't be able to see us down here in this dust and destruction. We have to quit waiting and start doing. They're talking like it will be a long time before anyone even attempts to get here. We have to do it ourselves."
Now the real planning had to start. So far, except for the one small excursion, we had stayed in our newly cloistered world. Our camping experts explained to us that in a disaster shelter is a priority, then water, then food. We had shelter, now we had to start maintaining supplies and building up our reserves.
The weather had stopped us from doing anything much for the first two days. Today was the third and we had made some progress. I wanted to stay and listen to the radio for hours. At least we knew there was still an outside world. We knew we would have to turn off the radio soon to save the battery but first, we wanted to try our cell phones.
Katie begged to be first. She had a charger in her purse.
Her hands were shaking as she connected the cable to her phone. Her screen lit up. She pulled up her husband's work number. No connection. Next, her husband's cell - there was no answer. Her mother in law lived close by. She tried again. The day care number was highlighted in her phone. No answering machine came on. Finally, she tried 911. A busy signal was all that lit up her phone. She put her phone down slowly in a defeated gesture.
A small message symbol lit up her phone. The text was faint but she could read. "Are you there, Katie? Is that you? We are fine. I have the children. We can't get out of this area, but we are okay now. Katie, if it is you please text me. I didn't have the phone with me. We were outside. Our house is damaged but standing. My mother and I are here. Mother picked the kids up early for a surprise birthday party for you. Did you forget it was your birthday? We have a cake. The kids have been drawing you pictures. My phone fell when the quake started. Only texting is working. Text me, Please, Katie. I love you."
Tears of pure joy and laughter enveloped her. She couldn't speak yet. Her hands were trying to type but were still shaking too violently. At first, all she could write is, "I am alive." Everyone around her started yelling, "Eureka!" Laughter, hard laughter shook us all and we danced the Eureka dance with childish abandon. Jumping Jones became my partner. We didn't care what we looked liked or how loudly we sang. "Eureka!'
The Chili Cheese dogs were the best meal I have ever had.
| Author Notes |
The True Test, Chapter one Teachers are asked to stay late for mandatory Standardized Testing in the auditorium. Towards the end of the training, something causes a massive explosion. Some die instantly, Some suffer. They find shelter in the band hall.
Chapter 2 - The survivors decide to go back to see if they have any more survivors in the Auditorium. They find two alive, but injured. The after shock kills them both. However they hear a pounding and discover a room with people including their principal who is gravely injured. Chapter 3 - We need food. Chapter 4 5, 6 7 and 8 keep looking for ways to survive and possibly contact the rest of the world. |
By jusylee72
We were eating breakfast, Rice Crispy bars, cereal and the last of the milk we had salvaged. We were in small groups socializing in a weird way. Not sure whether to constantly worry of to just pass the time.
Doug walked into the room and stood on the conducting platform. " Timothy Sanchez, our principal died about an hour ago. He did wake up briefly and asked me what happened. I tried to explain to him as quickly as I could, but his eyes just stared at me, wanting more. I couldn't save him. I did all I could."
In the last two days, Doug rarely left the Second Band Hall. We brought him food. We tried to relieve him and tell him he needed sleep. Neil, the head coach, had taken him out for about four hours and demanded he got some sleep. We forced him into a small practice room and gave him a blanket for a pillow. Five hours later he was back in the triage room.
Having never been in a survival situation before I began observing how we were reacting. Denial was a major emotion. It kept us going.
"My family will be waiting around the corner."
"My husband would crawl over barricades to save me."
"The national guard will find us soon."
The reality was oppressing. There were still no planes in the sky. There we no helicopters. Only silence lived in the sky.
Another realization hit me.
Timothy was our leader. He was our boss. We admired him 80 percent of the time and grudgingly complied when we didn't agree with him. He had so many people, teachers, students, other administrators to deal with and get to know. Yet, I knew that he had been in my classroom and understood my strategies. He knew that I did my job in a unique way. After observations, he would give me suggestions on ways to improve. However, there was always this respect he gave me. He knew that my skills were needed where I worked. Most of all he would tell me that our choir students wanted to be there. To him, that was enough. I may not be the perfect teacher but the students in my room wanted to be there and they wanted to learn.
That alone made me want to keep teaching.
He was gone now.
Now there were new problems.
We had all ignored the fact that the auditorium was a tomb. The hard brick walls had shielded us from the death smell that we knew was inside of it. Now, another one of our own had died. Should we place him in the tomb? Do we have a ceremony? We have no family members to tell us what rituals he would want. We can't keep him in the other band hall. The days of taking care of our own dead had been over for years. We had specialists who would come to our doors and take away our dead, embalm them, cremate them.
My mind went back to my Mother. Her fourteen-year-old brother died in a tobogganing accident in the early 1930's. They put a wreath on the door. They had the body in the house, washed by family and the local undertaker. The viewing was at home. Her Mother, my grandmother, was never the same. She changed from a loving parent into an angry survivor. He oldest son was dead. She blamed my Mother for the accident.
My Mother and Richard were supposed to go to a basketball game that night. Their parents were out at a social event. It started to snow. The entire neighborhood of preteens and teens thought about how much fun it would be to toboggan. So instead of the game, they stayed home. They were laughing and taking turns on the long downhill street they lived on. None of them thought that a car would come across the bottom street at the exact same moment that four mini adults would descend. The car struck them. Two died. My uncle immediately. One became a paraplegic. One recovered.
Police cars were outside when the parents came home.
My grandmother and grandfather were told that their son was dead. My grandmother turned to my mother and said, "Why wasn't it you?"
That one night clouded their relationship for the rest of their lives.
My mind came back to my own reality.
Doug was talking.
"We have to decide what to do with our dead. We can't keep them. For now, our best choice is to isolate them in the auditorium. I will need people to help me. We have to decide within the next few hours."
All of our usual ways of dealing with death were lost to us. There was no pickup service. Scientifically, we had a decaying body rotting in the next room.
The volunteers did so silently. They simply walked up to Doug, then turned and went into the next room. They used one of the xylophones to lay him on and take him to the auditorium. Many of us wanted to have a small service for him, yet the idea of organizing it crippled us into inaction.
Denial was no longer a part of our world.
| Author Notes | , Teachers have to stay after school for mandatory Standardized Test Training. Many of them sense something is wrong. They want to go home. They stick to their obligations. When the explosion comes they have no idea that an earthquake, the largest ever recorded, has ruptured the gas lines outside their building. Most of Texas is destroyed. All around them is devastation. The Auditorium is damaged. They are able to get to the band hall across from the auditorium. They have no idea how much damage surrounds them. They are a group of about 70 teachers and administrators, custodians, etc. They have so many different talents and skills. How will they survive? |
By jusylee72
Doug asked for another search party. "We need to take the far hall down to the office. We can go by the computer rooms. The only people who weren't in the auditorium when the shaking started is our office staff. We need to find out what has happened to them. I also heard from some of you that people saw Patty and Sherry leave during the vignettes. We need to find out if they are ok."
Several of the coaches went with him. The computer hallway was damaged and dangerous. None the less, the young men cautiously stepped through it. As they approached the office, the floor became unstable. To go further could cause another cave in. Nothing but rubble could be seen on the floor below them.
"Carolina. Anyone. Can you hear me? Are you okay?" The men spoke with loud clear voices. They couldn't get any closer. They would just have to hope they could make contact. "Carolina, where are you guys?" A head peeked out the side door of the teacher's lounge. It was Patty.
"There's nine of us in here. We can't get out to you yet. We may be able to go around the building out front and make our way around now that the rain has stopped. Are you all still in the auditorium?"
Doug was relieved to see her. "No, the auditorium is destroyed. We will try to send a group around to you and help you to join us. We are in the band hall. Do you have food and water."
"We are okay, some minor injuries but overall we are okay. We have a few supplies, at least enough for today. Tomorrow, we will try the front steps and see if we can climb around the rubble to where you are. It is getting too dark now. Try to come get us tomorrow in the morning."
"Sorry about missing our date, Patty. Something came up." Doug's attempt at humor made Patty laugh. The last two days had been both inspiring and lonely.
"We have all been worried about you guys," Patty yelled back at the group. "Let's make that date for tomorrow."
Patty went back in the lounge to lift everyone's spirits. The last two nights, these nine women became lifetime friends. The first night the violent rain storm frightened them. The lounge was connected to the copier room. If they sat out there they could see through the front windows. At times the lightning illuminated the entire area.
"God sure is mad at someone." Maria grew up in the Valley with her grandmother. "Grandma would say that whenever there was a big storm. She told us the scary stories she'd grown up with in Mexico. How El Diablo was riding the bolts of lightning and how thunder was God scolding disobedient children. It's a wonder I didn't grow up terrified of rain."
After several quick trips into what was left of the administrator's offices, they scavenged enough supplies for now. The principal's office had several flashlights. The VP had a private supply of coffee and creamer plus a hidden drawer of candy bars. Others had cushions and pillows. Carolina had the key to the soda and snack machines plus they still had some leftovers from the potluck lunch.
They missed their families and were worried about them. The inability to change anything at the moment helped them to cope with it. Sherry and Maria were sitting with Patty in the copy room. The others had decided to try to sleep through the storm.
Patty admired these older women. "Maria, why did you decide to be a secretary?" The innocents in the question touched Maria's, heart.
"I grew up on the poor side of town. I didn't feel poor. We always ate and our family was full of love. I went to the local high school. I was the president of the Spanish Honor Society and I made very good grades. Back then Patty, young Mexican women like me were expected to act a certain way. My senior year the counselor at the school called me in and told me she knew the best school for me. There was a popular secretary school within walking distance from our neighborhood. I never questioned why they didn't think I was college material. It was expected of me. It was many years before I realized I was just as smart and capable as the others who were sent to college. If I had to do it over, I would have studied to be a lawyer. Now I am approaching retirement age. I couldn't change my life but I encourage my children and grandchildren to be whatever they want to be."
"Do you resent the way they treated you now that you know what you could have been?" Patty, for all her 24 years, seemed incredibly vulnerable.
"Resentment has filled my mind attimesi. However, I married well. I lived and loved well. The little things get to me sometimes. For example; The teachers never have to clock out to eat lunch, and they have 48 minutes compared to our 30, yet if we don't remember to clock out and back in we are reprimanded. Often times, we are treated with disrespect by parents and sometimes by administrators, but there again if I dwell on that I might become a bitter old woman. How much fun would life be if I lived that way?"
Sherry listened to Maria as she talked to Patty. She knew she had developed a strong bond with this young lady in the short time they had been together. Sherry's depression lessened. This young lady indeed was a lovely soul.
It was almost one in the morning when the three women stopped talking.
A grown up slumber party made friendships deepen and new relationships develop in the dark of the night and the dawn of each day.
When Sherry woke up after she fainted. she didn't remember her outburst. The rest of the women decided to let it pass. Sherry continued to counsel Patty. The group of women encouraged her to talk about what had happened to her. They shared their own stories. Now she was willing to talk about the rape openly.
They had already talked about venturing out the next morning. Now they had renewed hope and knew where to search. They sat at the table and made plans.
Sherry noticed concern in Patty's eyes. "I really like Doug. We still don't know for sure that I am pregnant, but what if I am? I am sure he will reject me."
"We can only live the day we are given. Don't rush tomorrow. Work on who you are today. The rest will work itself out." Sherry was surprised that she could still give positive advice. Somehow she was changing.
By jusylee72
One of those days, normal, boring, nothing new in the news, no big tradgedy to cry over, no discussion starter at the lunch table, nothing to shake up the world with or write home to Mom about.
The sky deepened to a blue, green-gray, the air thick, moist.
No weatherman predicted rain
The school calendar stated:
"Early Out day".
One month before the state legislature mandated:
Teachers must receive more STAAR Test training.
Our administration sent the formal email.
"Report to the auditorium no later than one-fifteen. Bring the manuals provided in your school mailboxes."
We escorted the students to the bus loop, some ecstatic about the early release day, some noticed the air felt different, strange.
One student didn't want to get on the bus.
"Mrs. Welch, the sky looks different."
My reply felt shallow.
"Oh heavens, it's just another day. Enjoy the opportunity to go home early."
We often forget our animal heritage. Instinct, within us, senses fear, uncertainty.
In modern times, we ignore the signs, thinking of ourselves higher than the other animals in the universe.
Birds fly low before it rains. Not because the fowls recognize the danger, simply because the insects they eat fly lower.
Salmon swim upstream only sensing it is time to procreate. They ignore the danger and follow their desire to find a mate.
Humans ignore their feelings, their instincts. Otherwise we would have gone home to our loved ones.
None of us who survived, chose that option.
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The student's words echoed in my head.
"Mrs. Welch, why is the sky that color?"
"It looks weird out here."
Our students sensed it, felt it, acknowledged it.
I still see their faces in the bus windows. I wonder what became of them.
We don't know who made it home. We only know we put them on a bus.
We ignored our fears at lunch.
Krissie, my best friend, a computer teacher, ate our "Weight Watcher" salads.
How many times had we been through the various versions of this "NEW" type of training? We could mouth it word for word.
Taft, my school home for 14 years now, connected Krissie and me. We formed a strong connection from the first time I met her. We both graduated in 1972. We both love to play golf, so did our husbands. As couples, we played in scrambles and local tournaments together. We enjoyed each other's humor. We had no secrets. Often during our Sunday golf outings, we would laugh about life.
While driving the golf cart, we drank beers and made fun of our husbands. We talked about school and our children. We knew each other's life's stories. We talked about the mistakes in our past. While life was not perfect, we cherished who we had become and what we now were now accomplishing.
Both of us hated standardized testing days. I called them "torture days". The tests would last all day long. We jokingly referred to it as the WTFTT - Ways To Fire a Teacher Test. Since I was the music teacher, I would spend my entire day on bathroom duty. I knew the speech well.
"Please make sure only one student is in the bathroom at a time. You must go in and out and inspect the room for the possibility a student is leaving test answers. If you see a child with their phone, immediately confiscate it and ask for an administrator. You will be given feminine products in case a student needs them."
Krissie and I got to the auditorium at exactly 1:11. As usual, I forgot my manual and had to run back to my room which was just down the hall. Krissie saved the aisle seat for me. Our principal picked up the microphone.
"Thank you for being here. As you all know we will be administering the STAAR test the first week of May."
"If you break any of the rules during testing you may lose your teaching certificate."
The updated vignettes, same message, same bad acting showed new characters with a small attempt at humor.
Our favorite vignette, the one we made the most fun of, showed two teachers in our lounge
"Did you see that question on the Math Test? I think it was unfair."
"Yes, there were many that I disagreed with."
Another teacher in the background, standing with an open refrigerator, eavesdropping shakes her head.
We are not allowed to mention the test, especially we are not allowed to talk about questions on it. We are sworn to silence emphasized with a signed oath to follow all rules.
The next scene opens in the principal's office.
"I feel an obligation to report two teachers who broke protocol." The refrigerator eavesdropper smiles as she seals the other teachers' fate.
"You are doing the right thing." The principal praises her decision.
We never find out the fate of the two teachers, but it is assumed they either lost their teaching certificates or were put in prison, maybe tortured into admitting their discretion.
I do not allow the use of cell phones in my class. I try to be respectful and not use mine in meetings. Boredom took over, I started yawning. I knew if I didn't distract myself I might find myself snoring loudly. Krissie nudged me a few minutes earlier to tell me to wake up. I shouldn't have but I turned my phone on. Just then my daughter sent me a picture of my three-year-old granddaughter. I stared at it mesmerized. What a little beauty. The time said 3:05.
The world changed. The floor shook, small at first then violently. Ceiling tiles began to rain on our heads. Lights above our heads shattered, popping, exploding. Darkness filled the room. I heard a giant thud and felt a large piece of metal fall on Krissie next to me. The metal casing slashed a large cut into my left arm. Krissie let out a large gasp but didn't move. Using my phone, I turned to her. She didn't move. I stood, screaming her name. Some large light from the ceiling sat in her lap. My phone dropped to the floor. I tried to move the lamp, the casing cut into my hands. It wouldn't move. I stood there in shock, unable to move, unable to look away. I dropped my phone.
Someone touched my arm. A young teacher I didn't recognize calmly spoke to me. He put his hand on my shoulder. He picked up my phone. He turned me away from Krissie.
"Let me help you. You must follow me. You can't help her now. We will come back."
I couldn't speak. He gently pushed me up the ramp.
The closest doors stood to our right. Several teachers stood with ashen faces staring at the doorway. We could go no further. A ledge a foot from the door fell into the classroom on the floor below us. The foyer, now filled with broken glass, prevented our exit. No way out on this side.
Panic took over in the darkness.
Crying, screaming, moans filled the room.
We turned around and followed the crowd to the other side of the auditorium. Someone had propped open the other door. A faint light led to the band hall across the exit. We wanted to run, yet we moved slowly across. Most of us were silent. Some were screaming or crying. We kept hearing smaller explosions, dust suffocating us.
One teacher, an evangelist started screaming, "The end is coming. I'm ready Lord."
Amazingly, my phone was still working. It was now 3:11.
We reached the band hall. Chairs and instruments overturned, band lockers jolted open, amazingly the roof was intact. People slumped against the wall, many injured and bleeding. My cuts seemed small compared to the others.
The left side of the room led to an outside door. One of the coaches stood framed in the doorway, a silent picture, staring at the devastation outside.
I joined him at the door. Outside amidst the dusty air, concrete slabs, broken into puzzle pieces. Electric lines pulled from their poles danced to unheard music in the distance. Trees engulfed in flames could be seen for miles. A church steeple without a church stood among the rubble. The boy's gym used to be visible from this door, now just a broken basketball court with a ghost hoop swinging in the wind. We could see for miles, turned over cars, whole buildings reduced to ashes.
We had no way out. No place to run. I slumped down in the doorway unable to stop looking at the view. The band hall generator provided us with dim light. We knew it wouldn't last for long.
Our cell phones proved useless. Our calls to 911 were unanswered. The phone towers must have fallen. Our band director, Amanda, tried the landline in her office, no dial tone. Her assistants, Mike and Greg began helping people find their way in.
Some were whispering, not wanting to be heard. Some were crying, screaming. Some lay deadly quiet.
The young man who led me from my seat seemed to take charge. He knew first aid and basic emergency room skills. He rapidly moved from one patient to the other accessing each patient as if he was a physician.
Small decisions formed. The people who were not injured began moving. Amanda found flashlights. Greg opened a closet full of water used to help the marchers keep hydrated. Those who were not injured helped move the severely hurt into the adjourning band hall. Michael opened the uniform closet and grabbed band uniforms to use as pillows to keep their heads above their bleeding. They covered them with the jackets. Shoelaces from marching shoes became make-do tourniquets.
Someone handed me a water bottle and paper towels and asked me to clean my wounds. Another teacher began cutting up white tux shirts from the uniform closet.
The coach still stood in the doorway. He hadn't moved since I first came in the room. Slowly he turned to us and in a loud voice announced,
"There are no sirens. There is only silence. No one is coming to help us."
At Taft, we refer to our faculty as a family of educators. We never knew we would be a true family from that moment on.
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Chapter 2 Douglas Athletic Trainer
It took two years after graduating from college before Doug could move out of his parents' house. HIs degree in Exercise Science and Kinesthetic was a step in his plans. His real dream was to become a doctor. Reality ruined that hope when he took the MCAT. He failed it twice.
Test anxiety haunted him from the time he was in first grade. He would study his spelling words. He won the spelling bee. Yet, couldn't pass the written test. By third grade they had him tested for Special Education Programs. Despite an almost genius IQ, 137, he couldn't put his words on paper. The special ed psychiatrist tried to explain it to his parents.
"He is very intelligent. He just can't put it down on paper. I asked him to make up a story and showed him a picture of two people on the moon. He told me the most elaborate, imaginative story full of dialogue and humor. Yet, when I asked him to write it down he wrote three sentences.
"There were two people on the moon. They saw the stars. They liked being on the moon."
"He is probably dysgraphic, a form of Dyslexia that most people don't understand."
His Dad thought it was just a bunch of malarky.
"He just isn't trying hard enough. Slow down, write slower. Discipline is all you need."
He didn't want to sign the papers to put his oldest son in Special Education.
"You need to live up to your name, Douglas Edward Montgomery the Fourth. No child of mine is retarded."
It took his mother to convince her husband, the son of a Texas Rancher, to realize what his son needed.
They were a unique couple, his Mom, and Dad. Dad grew up on a wealthy cowboy ranch. His Mom, Janie, as they called her, grew up on an Indian Reservation. Her heritage placed her in two worlds, half-white, half Cherokee. She receive a scholarship to college from the indian council.
They met in college. He studied animal science at Texas Tech. At most he was a B, C student. He knew college was a formality. He was going to inherit the ranch. He already had a house on the 3000 acres that he could call his own. He had always dated the cheerleader types in high school. Then fate sat him next to this tall, dark-haired, beautiful woman in a mandatory psychology class. They were put in a study group together. They disagreed on almost everything. For some reason, the attraction was immediate. He fell in love with this feisty woman. She finally let him date her a year later.
Taking her home to Mama was a real challenge. No one had ever married outside of their culture. Yet he knew she was the woman for him. Eventually, she won over the rest of the family. The wedding took place on June 2th, 1965.
Douglas Edward Montgomery the Fourth was born on August 16th, two years after their marriage.
Janie's Mother, a full Cherokee, came to the hospital shortly after the birth. She presented a small bag of Indian medicine and placed it on her new grandson's forehead, then She shook the herbs above her grandson's head. Chanting in her native language, she spoke his Indian name, Silver Fox. She turned to her daughter.
"You must give Silver Fox this bag when he is 8 years old. His gifts will be revealed. He is the Great-Great Grandson of a medicine man. Two of his gifts will be healing and kindness. The rest will be revealed in time."
His grandmother died before his 3rd year of life.
Janie kept her promise. Her son received the medicine bag on his 8th birthday. His gifts began to emerge.
Some little boys bring home stray animals. Doug's parents soon learned their boy was different. He brought home any injured creature he could find. A baby bird with a deformed wing, a rabbit half eaten by a fox but still alive, a cat with three legs, even a group of baby skunks he found after a Texas flood.
Dad protested when he brought the skunks home, but Mom always gave in. She knew her boy's heart and couldn't stand when any creature was hurting. She helped put them in a box and take them to the wild animal shelter 40 miles away. The vet comforted the boy, "They are almost old enough to be weaned. I can give them formula and release them in the woods in a couple of weeks. They will be okay."
Most of his little creatures survived. Doug had a natural gift for healing. He would gently bandage them, figure out a way to feed them, name them and love them.
The three-legged cat became "Hop a Long"
The rabbit, "Bunny Who Has No Fear"
The little bird, "Eagle Who Will Fly over the World".
The bird, a true miracle, survived and thrived under his guidance.
The wing grossly deformed looked hopeless. Most people would have no hope for such an animal. It stayed with him for 6 months. Every night Doug would gently stretch the wing out. He splinted the wing in a new position each week. He fed the little guy day and night. As the bird grew the wing became straighter and stronger.
He loved to tell the bird stories about seeing the world from the sky. When the bird showed signs of wanting to fly. Doug would take him out to flight school every day after school.
Sitting on the ground he would cup the sweet creature in his hands then gently throw him a few inches at a time. Each week the throws were a little bit further.
He never planned the day the bird would take flight. He waited for nature to decide.
He placed him on a low branch and let him watch the sky and other birds. At night, he gently caged him and told him one day the sky would be his own.
One evening he placed him on a higher branch. The next day he flew. For a week he stayed close to the house, Then he flew away to see the world from the sky.
When he was ten, he asked his Mother to call him Silver Fox. His father would have nothing of it. "You were born with a strong Texas Heritage. No son of mine is going to be called Silver Fox. Be proud of the name you were given."
His Mother took him aside. "I know your father can be controlling but he is a good man. He treats me well. He has given me two strong sons. A woman who marries someone with the idea that she can change him is a foolish girl. It was my choice to marry him and love him as he is. He is my provider. Your name does not have to be spoken to make you powerful. Greatness will find you in time."
Now six months after moving out he lived in a small one-bedroom apartment. To Doug, it felt like a castle. He worked at Taft High School as their athletic trainer. He still wanted to be a doctor but he was enjoying working with athletes and being able to use his medical knowledge when any of them got hurt. He also taught a sports medicine class.
He decided to embrace his Indian heritage. He grew his long black hair out and pulled it into a ponytail. When he met new people he would introduce himself as "Silver Fox but you can call me Doug." People enjoyed his personality and humor.
Today, Thursday, he was up early. He didn't admit it to anyone but he had a crush on the new Girl's P.E. teacher. Patty was only 4'11''. Doug stood a bit over 6 feet. He towered over her.
Patty was starting a zero hour gymnastics course. He volunteered to be the trainer just in case one of the students twisted an ankle or needed an ice pack. Patty had joined the faculty in the middle of the year. She had competed on the Junior Olympics Gymnastic's High School team several years back. She graduated from Michigan State where she placed in Nationals at the worlds. An injury kept her from advancing. She still loved gymnastics and now was happy to be teaching it. Our school had none of the equipment she needed for a gymnastics team. That did not deter her. She was going to start simple with stretches, rolls, flips, dance moves. She was completely convinced she could get the funding she needed from grants.
Doug loved her ambitious attitude. He planned on asking her out for dinner and a movie tomorrow night. He was sure he could convince her. 'After all, my name is Silver Fox which of course makes me clever and wise. Surely she won't say no. '
Patty, the new P.E. instructor sat down next to Sherry and introduced herself.
"I hope you don't mind if I sit here in the back row with you. My stomach's been bothering me this morning. I'm Patty. I started here 2nd semester. I don't think I know you yet."
Sherry tried her best to smile but the last thing she wanted was a conversation right now, "Please sit down. I'm Sherry, I teach psychology."
'Why am I always so polite? You know you want to be alone.'
Sherry managed to say, "Nice to meet you. Looks like the meeting is starting."
Tommy, the principal, welcomed them to Testing Land.
Sherry let her thoughts back into her private world.
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The internet is amazing. You can find anything you need - Coupons, DYI home improvements, furniture, technicians, TV schedules, ways to kill yourself.
Sherry's research was almost done. She even had a date in mind - June 15th. The school would be out. Graduation would be over. She would have all the time she needed to build her little stockpile as she called it. No one would know she was gone. When the students came back the next year they would just assume she found another job opportunity.
It wasn't that she wanted to die. It was just too painful to live.
She had tried the doctors. "Situational Depression" was her diagnosis. It was supposed to be curable. The antidepressants did help a little. At least it took the edge off. Too many life events at once. Her doctor stated, "Anyone would be sad after the last few years you've had." Sherry knew that after all, she was the Psychology Teacher. How ironic is that?
In fact, her knowledge of the signs of suicide helped her to hide her intentions. She wasn't letting the world know how she felt. A drug addict on a TV show she watched taught her how to get the drugs. First, you use your insurance and the co-pay with your regular doctor. Then you go to small clinics that don't really keep track of you. Weekends were the best time to go. It was expensive seeing all these doctors but in all honesty, money didn't matter. She wasn't going to be here to use it. It was amazing to see how easily she could get a bottle of Vicodin. Just tell them your back hurt. The doctor would give you muscle relaxers if you were a good enough actor. "Follow-up with your regular doctor on Monday."
How long had it been now? It was five years since her husband's death. Two years before that Wayne had been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. Those two years were a roller coaster. Some days were hopeful. Wayne and Sherry searched for cures, new treatments, experimental drugs. They laughed at but actually considered miracle water cures. Sometimes, Wayne would get a new treatment and seemed to be getting better. Those were good days. Then some new little corner in his body would erupt with new cancer cells. He put up a brave front for his teenage son.
The last six months of his life were the worst. He no longer knew his wife. He would accuse her of poisoning him. He had always been a kind man now the words he spoke were devilish. Horrid words would stream out of his mouth. He screamed at his son, "Come on, Pussy, be brave enough to shoot me! You know you can do it."
When death took him she expected to be relieved. Instead, life just felt empty. She still had her son so she had to be brave in front of the world. There were some good times in the next three years.
"I'll never leave you, Mama." Mason loved to joke with her,"You're going to have a thirty-year-old bachelor living with you who still wants his Mama to wash his clothes and make dinner for him."
She would laugh and perk up. Three years after Wayne's death life was still lonely but bearable.
Then came Prom Night. She watched her son leave with one of the prettiest girls in school. They went out as a group of four. Sherry gave Mason the keys to her car. "I'll see you back here about one or two, I made snacks and rented movies for you all to enjoy."
"Thanks, Mama. See you soon."
That evening she made some of his favorite food to share with his friends. His favorite was homemade macarons and cheese. Mason called at about ten thirty to ask if he could invite more people over for the after party. "Sure, it will be fun."
Sometimes she pretended the afterparty had actually happened. In real life, God, or whoever some people perceive to be God, had other plans.
During the last five years, Mason was so busy taking care of his mother and doing well in school that he never went against the rules. This night was different. One of his buddies had liquor in his car. Mason had never had a drink. This time he didn't say no. He had no idea how drunk he was when he got into the car to drive home. The rest of them were equally messed up.
When the policeman came to the door she didn't bother to look through the peephole. She opened the door wide and happily teased, "Come on Mason, did you forget your house keys?"
She doesn't remember much after that. The police said she passed out. They took her to the hospital. She woke up several hours later. Drugged up and full of questions. Mason had driven off an overpass. He was killed instantly along with the two girls. The fourth had been flown to a hospital. He may never walk again. They landed on another car. No news on how the other victims were doing.
The next 6 months were a blur. Mother's Against Drunk Drivers put a sign on Sherry's lawn in the middle of the night - "Drunk driver/ murderer's home". The lawsuits against her insurance company were getting larger and more complicated. The newspapers villainized her son.
Friends tried to comfort her but their words were often hurtful.
"At least he died fast, not like the drawn out death of your husband."
The sarcastic voice in her head had a response.
"Let's see, which is better? Watching someone you love slowly get sicker and sicker until his days are filled with pain and he begs to die and he asks you over and over to help him end it. Or going down to the morgue to identify your only son but they stop you at the door and caution you that you may not want to see him. But you go in any way and you identify your child because he is wearing his father's ring that you gave him. Why? Because you can't recognize him with his face is torn off. Great choices, Huh?
Except for working, Sherry became a recluse. People had stopped dropping in to see how she was coping several months ago. Some of her friends had tried to come by but she pretended she wasn't home. Isolation was her desire.
It's finally Thursday, only a day away from the weekend. I can make it through another day. She had trained the people at work to not ask her how she was doing. "Please, I really don't want to talk about it at work. It is too hard for me." They respected her wishes.
Before she left she opened the back bathroom's medicine cabinet. That's where she kept the true answer. "Hello, my little friends. Soon. Very soon."
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Sherry noticed Patty was holding her stomach. The meeting had started over an hour ago.
"Are you okay?"
"I don't know what's wrong with me." Her face was turning white. "Could you help me get to a bathroom? It is starting to hurt more and more."
They were watching a slide show. It was dark in the auditorium. Sherry helped her get up. They went out the side door.
"Lean on me. Let's head over to the nurse's office. It's close by." Sherry led her out the second glass door and towards the main office."
They were just past the foyer when the shaking started.
| Author Notes |
This is part of a book about teachers who have to stay after school for standardized testing training when the biggest earthquake comes and isolates them. This is one of the pre St stories. I started writing about the disaster then I asked myself "What were these people doing the day before this happened Now I am going back to find out who they were so that I can continue to find out who they are in a survival situation. I have some great ideas about Sherry been forced to help others and then finding a reason to live. The book is called " The True Test. Got a long way to go. I would appreciate anyone who goes back and reads the chapters to help me or make suggestions or even Ideas for the characters. I wish you were all in my living room one day a week helping with ideas and correcting my grammar. Thank you for being there for me.
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By jusylee72
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The School was closed for the afternoon. All of the administrators and the teachers were in the auditorium for mandatory STARR TEST training. Carolina, the principal's secretary, enjoyed the silence. The phones were forwarded to voice mail. 'Finally, time to get some of my paperwork done without interruption.' The front office door was locked. But first came lunch.
Seven secretaries ran the main offices: Carolina, Principal's Secretary, Angelina, Vice Principal's Secretary, Maria, Counselors Secretary, Front receptionist, Jenna, the bookkeeper, Leti, two attendance clerks, Olga and Rachel and the Registrar, Milly. Timothy Sanchez, the principal, had given them permission to have a full hour lunch. Usually, they had to punch out, rush to eat in thirty minutes and punch back in. Today, they were having a potluck lunch with enchiladas, tacos, tortilla soup, corn, refried beans and Maria's special cheesecake. They had the teachers lounge to themselves at 1:15 and they intended to enjoy the great food, friendships and small amount of downtime.
Laughter and personal jokes filled the room. Everyone broke their diets, told stories and talked about their lives. Leftovers were put in the lounge refrigerator. By Two Thirty the lounge was cleaned up and they went back to catch up on their responsibilities.
School secretaries are interrupted constantly and all of them enjoyed the quiet of the afternoon. Angie was the first to notice the change in the color of the sky. Her office could see out the front windows. Greens and grays colored the clouds. The wind made a sudden switch. She noticed a small vibration starting beneath her feet. "That's strange. Were the construction workers downstairs using some sort of power tool? The vibration became louder, looking up she saw some cars in the parking lot turnover. Her L-shaped desk blocked her escape on the right. She jumped to the left over the widening hole beneath her. Running towards Carolina's office she heard others screaming. Carolina joined her in the narrow hallway. They ran to the teacher's lounge together.
Maria and the other secretaries watched as the floor in the hallway outside the counseling office shattered and disappeared below. All of them headed toward the windowless lounge, praying that the floor was still intact. Two teachers emerged from the faculty bathroom across from the lounge, Sherry, the psychology teacher, and Patty the new P.E. Coach crashed through the side door. Nine women, shaken and scared watched the door fly off the handle on the other side of the room. The shaking suddenly stopped. The floor was bent but intact. They stared at each other in disbelief.
Carolina and Leti began praying in Spanish and trying to comfort each other. The refrigerator was on its side. The door flung open. Their leftovers spilling on the floor. Maria had a large gash in her leg. She had fallen on the way and her foot fell through the floor. Olga pulled her out of the floor but the gap was full of nails and punctured Maria's leg.
Millie had a cut on her head where the ceiling fell on her. Sherry and Patty were covered in water, the toilets and the sink exploded as they tried to leave the bathroom. Water was spraying the hallway outside the lounge door that remained.
No one spoke when the shaking stopped. All nine were alive. Trapped in the small space. It took several minutes before they spoke.
Olga sat Maria in a chair by the sink. Against all odds, the faucet worked for a few minutes. She quickly wet paper towels and handed one to Maria. "Millie, come sit down. Your head is bleeding. Put pressure on your cut."
Carolina and Leti instinctively started cleaning up. The tables were turned on their sides. The power was off and the room was barely lit by the light through the door. Water was pouring under the door nearest the bathroom. Three of the women tried to lift the refrigerator. Two others joined in and they were able to get it upright. They saved as many of the leftovers as possible, quickly closing the door to keep the cold air in. The room had several cabinets full of coffee cups, paper plates, plastic cups and paper towels. Most of the cup were broken. The drawers lay open, silverware, serving spoons, condiments, coffee cans, all of the things the secretaries set out when they had Coordinator meetings in the room were scattered across the floor.
"What happened?" Sherry had a strange look on her face. Abruptly, she began to laugh. "Enough," She shouted. The others stared at her. Her eyes scared them. She raised her hand to the ceiling screaming at some unseen entity. "Enough! You can't even leave me with my plans." She fell to the floor.
The lounge had two couches, one long, one a love seat. After a few seconds, they responded and lifted her on to the long one. "She's extremely pale." Being a gymnast, Patty had often dealt with injuries. "She's fainted. Help me sit her up. We need to put her head down so that blood can get back to her brain."
Another small tremor shook the floor.
| Author Notes | I started this in January, 2017. Teachers have an eclectic group of talents: Physicist, Mathematicians, Home Ec, ROTC, Athletics, Music, Acting, English, Wood workers, Mechanics. They make a great group of survivors. This is chapter Seven in the book "The True Test." |
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