EARTHQUAKE - Chapter 7

Early Monday morning the “State Policeman” ordered one of the men in the office building to take the truck and pick up the old man and his granddaughter from a house behind the cotton gin in Whistleville.

“But the road to Whistleville has a deep chasm across it.”

“It must have been repaired. Do as I said.”

        The man drove off toward Whistleville certain that he wouldn’t be able to get through. He kept looking and looking for the chasm but never did find it.

        Back in Victoria no one ever saw the “State Policeman” again.

        When the truck came to the cotton gin, my Grandad and I were waiting out by the road. My grandfather was seated in a wooden chair. I was holding the teddy bear and my Granny’s Bible.

        “You will have to come around and help my Grandad up into the truck. He has had a heart attack.”

        Grudgingly the man helped the old man up into the truck. I hopped up into the truck bed with my two treasures in my arms.

         Back in Victoria the truck pulled up in front of the building with office workers. Mrs. Cartright came out to help my Grandad. Inside the building there was a couch in the former reception area. She led him to the couch and helped him to lie down there. She went for a paper cup and poured water from a bottle into the cup. Holding his head up, she helped him drink.

         Seeing that my Grandad was comfortable, I went outside to look around. Across the street I saw a familiar figure. Running over I cried,

         “Rosalita! Rosalita! I am so glad that you are all right. You are my very best friend in all the world.”

         “Dana. I’m glad to see you. I saw that your trailer was turned over and I was afraid that you were dead. I went to the trailer several times and called your name and banged on the side. There was no answer and I was sure you were dead.

          “Right now I am very busy. There are six children. I am supposed to watch them while the mothers clean the building, wash clothes, and cook food.”

          “I can help you. Let’s bring them outside to play.”

          “That's a good idea. They won’t be in the mothers’ way or making noise.”

          A few minutes later the we had the children outside playing “Ring Around The Rosie” and “Hide and Seek” and “Guess What Is In My Hand”. Some of the children knew English and some did not, but they all were having a good time. When they were tired, we sat them down under a tree and had storytime. I would tell a couple sentences of a story in English, then Rosalita would tell the same couple of sentences in Spanish. After that we took turns teaching the children a simple song in each language. The children were having such a good time that they forgot about the horrible experiences of the last two days.

         Before we knew it, it was lunch time and the mothers were calling the children to come inside for lunch and nap time. I said goodbye to Rosalita and went back across the street to check on my grandfather. He was weak and could barely talk, but he was happy to see me.

         Not long afterward there was a loud knocking on the door. It was a man and he was out of breath.

         “Is Mrs. Cartright here?”

         Mrs. Cartright came down the stairs.

         “Could I help you?”

         “Yes, I am a pilot. Your father has sent the company plane to bring you and the children to Little Rock to stay in your parents’ home. I had to walk from the plane, but I see there is a truck outside. Get your children and let’s go.”

         “There is an old man here who desperately needs to see a doctor. We will take him with us.”

         “Your father didn’t say anything about an old man.”

         “Yes, but I did! I’ll get the children.”
      
          I went over to Grandad.

          “Grandad, Mrs. Cartright’s father sent an airplane to fly her to Little Rock. She is going to take you along so that you can see a doctor. I can’t go because there isn’t room in the plane and once I got to Little Rock I wouldn’t have any place to stay. I’ll be praying for you and whenever I find Mom and Dad, we will go to Little Rock and find you.”

         I kissed him and choked back my tears.

         Somehow the pilot, Mrs. Cartright, Grandad, and the two children sat in the cab of the truck. One of the men from the building rode in the back of the truck so he could drive it back.

          The pilot taxied the plane to the very end of the runway so that he would have enough room to take off with an unexpected extra passenger.

          Later that day a National Guard helicopter landed. Altogether there were fifteen women and children. That was the capacity of the aircraft. The four male office workers were left behind to be picked up the next day.

         The man who had gone to Whistleville decided to see if that road would take him back to civilization. He and another man took off in the truck. Less than halfway there they encountered a chasm as wide as the length of the truck and so deep they couldn’t see the bottom. They turned around and went back to Victoria, MREs, slit trenches, and sleeping on the floor.  

         The National Guard helicopter took us to Osceola. We were met at the airport by a woman who introduced herself as Mrs. Brinkley, a nurse. She was in charge of processing people into the survivors’ collection center.

         “My name is Mrs. Brinkley. I am a nurse. The first thing I will do is to take your name and the address where you were living before the quake and I will give you a quick examination to see if you have any injuries. We will give you clean clothes, you will throw your soiled clothes into a basket, then you will take a shower outside. After you have showered and dressed, come into the hangar and we will assign a cot to you. Tomorrow you will be flown to an earthquake victims’ shelter where you will be given temporary quarters. They will tell you what transition benefits are available to you.”

         I spoke up. “Mrs. Brinkley, nearly all these people are Spanish speakers. My friend Rosalita can speak both English and Spanish. If you will repeat that sentence by sentence, she can interpret for you.”

         She thanked me, called for Rosalita, and went through the speech again sentence by sentence.

         The two women who were office workers in Victoria distanced  themselves from the Mexicans. They made sure to be first in line so they could be the first to take showers. They were reluctant to throw away their own clothes, but were given no choice. They turned up their noses at the clothing they were given. In the hangar there were already some cots that were occupied. They chose cots which would separate them from the Mexicans when they were assigned cots.

          Rosalita and I were given cots side by side and that made us happy. When the children came in, they were all whimpering or crying. The mothers were patting them but that didn’t seem to help. They had allowed me to keep Teddy bear when I threw my clothes in the basket. I started passing it from child to child. Then softly I started singing one of the songs from this morning, one that had motions. “This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine.” I held my finger up like a candle.

         The children snuffled back their tears, held up little fingers and joined me in singing. Mrs. Brinkley observed all this. She pulled out a large cardboard box and opened it. She pulled out a bunch of teddy bears and walked back to the cots and handed then out to the Mexican children and to some other children who were there.

         “The State Police have these teddy bears in their cars to give to children involved in accidents or other traumas. They left a couple boxes with me for the children who are brought here. Now each of you will have a teddy bear to hug these next scary nights of strange beds and new places.”

         I prayed to God to bless the people who had donated these teddy bears to the State Police to be used in this manner.
The next day it was pouring down rain. All the flights were cancelled. The hangar was large so Rosalita and I took the children to a big open space and we repeated the play and school time of yesterday. We made up games they could play in a confined space that still would give them a chance to burn up energy. The other children there joined us.

         When we had story time I would tell one or two sentences and then Rosalita would tell the sentences in Spanish. I used my hands to speak with motions. Sometimes I would have them all repeat an English word and Rosalita would sometimes have them repeat a Spanish word. After the story, we had exercise time. Then Rosalita and I would sing a song together and lead the children in a skipping, hopping, hand clapping parade.

         While we were doing all this, a television news cameraman and reporter were filming the play time. When lunch time came the children all ran to their mothers. The mothers took them to wash their hands and faces. In the lunch line the reporter approached Rosalita and me.

         “Where are you from?”

         “Victoria.”

         “Both of you?”
         
         “Yes,”

         “You were friends in Victoria and at school?”

         “Yes.”

         “Where are your parents?”

         “Rosalita’s mother is here. We don’t know about her father.”

         Rosalita spoke, “We think he was killed in the explosion and fire caused by the earthquake.”

         “I’m sorry. What about your parents, Dana?”
                                                                                                                                                                                
        “My father, Karl Cusak had gone to Blytheville for parts. My mother Mary Cusak had gone to Luxora to the beauty salon. After the earthquake, I went to my Grandad in Whistleville. He had a couple heart attacks and Mrs. Cartright took him to Little Rock in the plane her father sent for her and her children.”

         After lunch the children all laid down for a nap. So did I. Before I knew it, it was supper time. The food was always the MREs. There was a large pot of coffee for the adults. If the planes had come, there would have been several cartons of milk, but today there were only bottles of water for the children.

         At bed time I spotted my teddy bear on my pillow. I knew what he would say before he said it, so I knelt down by my cot and began to say my prayers. One by one the children and then their mothers followed suit.

         Mrs. Brinkley saw it and crossed herself. “Now I have seen it all.”

         When I crawled back into my cot and hugged my teddy bear, I asked him,

         “The teddy bears that Mrs. Brinkley gave to all the children – are they angels too?”

         “They can be if that is what God needs them to be.”