Wake the Dawn Page 3

  “Here.” Esther Hanson took the bundle and raced into the clinic, Bo and Ben right behind her.

  He’d made it.

  Chapter Three

  Stay, Bo.” Ben paused outside the examining room. Bo ignored him and followed Esther into the mini surgery. The bright lights above the examining table reflected off the silver blanket. “Bo! He figures the baby’s his. Shouldn’t have told him to guard it.”

  “It’s okay. Help me.” She unwrapped the crackly blanket and stripped the baby, dropping things on the floor. Laying her stethoscope on the naked little chest, she listened, shaking her head. “This is a miracle.”

  “What?”

  “That she’s still alive. How long do you think she was out there?”

  “Couldn’t be too long. Overnight the animals would have gotten her.” A girl.

  “No trace of the mother?”

  “We didn’t look. Bo found her. Wasn’t going to even let me touch her until I calmed down. He knows I don’t do hectic real well.”

  “Neither do I. Get me a blanket out of the warmer.” Even as she spoke, she was checking the baby’s vitals.

  The clinic’s sole warmer was in the hall so everyone on the corridor could access it conveniently. Of course, in the hall it was convenient to no one. Ben snatched out a blanket and returned to Esther. “When we were returning to the truck, Bo gave no indication of other people around.”

  “So the mother left her baby.” She wagged her head.

  “Or the snakehead forced her to leave it. She’s Asian, no idea what country.”

  “Possibly three weeks old.” She reached for an IV kit. “Don’t go; I need you to help. How we’ll start a drip into veins this tiny, I have no idea.” She tapped hands, arms, feet, rapped the inside of the tiny elbow. “She’s so dehydrated. Her veins are collapsed. Come on, baby, stay alive. Have you ever done one before?”

  Ben shook his head. His EMT training included starting lines, but not in an infant so small. “Where’s Barbara?”

  “Had to go home to get her kids when the lights went out.”

  “You’re on generator?”

  “Kicked in automatically.” She poked about, still wagging her head. “Okay, we’re going in here, this vein. Find me a rubber band.”

  “Her head?” Rubber band. There, holding together a bundle of vials. He ripped it off; vials rolled everywhere.

  “It’s the best vein I see. Dig me out size twenty-four. Even that may be too large.”

  He found it; the needle was the size of a really thin wire.

  “Hold her head completely still. That’s it.” She positioned the rubber band around the baby’s skull above her eyes, laid one finger firmly against a place Ben would have thought was random, and pressed the tiny needle against the tiny scalp. The baby didn’t move.

  Esther swore, backed off, tried again. A teensy bubble of blood rose into the very bottom of the floor of the syringe. Esther cackled triumphantly. “Have that saline ready, and a hanger.”

  Okay, so Ben was in awe. A vein that small…He set up the IV rack and bag, handed her the end of the tubing, plugged male plugs into females, bled the bubbles out of the line. She released a little saline, checking for bulges with her fingertips, withdrew the needle. The catheter remained in place. Success!

  She stood erect, stretched her shoulders back. Her face looked drawn, weary already. “I’ll tape it down and cut off the band. Can you diaper her?”

  “Where’re the diapers?”

  She nodded toward a cupboard.

  Someone yelled from the ER entrance.

  “Go see who it is, will you?”

  Ben grabbed a diaper and laid it on the table as he left the room.

  An old man with a bleeding head wound looked about to pass out. He was pressing a kitchen towel against his head, but it was doing nothing to stanch the flow. He would probably be a crumpled little puddle on the floor if his son weren’t holding him up. Ben knew these two: Ernie Gilbertson, a volunteer EMT, and Jens.

  “Ernie, this way.” Ben led them into room three. “Get him up there.”

  Ernie helped his father onto the table. “Piece of roofing caught him.”

  Ben ripped open a pack of gauze and handed it to Ernie. “Hold this while I scrub. Did you call nine-one-one?”

  “No. No bars on my cell.”

  Mr. Gilbertson moaned and tried to sit up.

  “Dad, don’t move.”

  The thin, wrinkled lips muttered, “Your mother, where is she?”

  “She’s home, Nancy is with her. She’s okayer than you right now.”

  Ben knew Ernie’s mother had recently had surgery but right now could not remember for what. What is Esther doing with the baby? He jerked his focus back to this room and this patient. At least he could handle this one, up until the stitches, that is. Head wounds always bled like a broken water main.

  “I need more gauze. This is soaked.”

  Ben set the box on the table. “Help yourself. Oh, and don’t throw away that gauze. Just add to it. Then we’ll know how much blood was lost. We’ll get a drip on him soon as we can.”

  He heard the buzzer and voices in the waiting room. Forget about washing up; the rain-rinse would do; he was still damp. Snapping on latex gloves, he moved to Jens Gilbertson’s head and took over with the gauze. “Go see who is out there, would you please?” With gentle fingers he probed the area around the laceration. Solid, no mush, no bubble of swelling, no indication of deep-flesh injury. “Good thing you have a hard head, Jens; we’ll get some stitches in here and you’ll be right as rain.” Right as rain. Not particularly apt in this storm. He checked the man’s pupils. No dilation, no indication of further trauma.

  An approaching ambulance siren reassured him. Now they would have more help.

  Ernie came back. “Ambulance just pulled up.”

  “Okay, keep your father from moving. I’ll be right back.” He stuck his head in the mini surgery, where Esther was diapering the baby. “You’re amazing. Scalp laceration in room three when you get to it. Ernie is keeping his father from running out the door before we get him stitched up.”

  “Thanks.”

  He watched her a moment. She looked strange. “You okay?”

  Esther nodded as she stripped off her gloves. “I can’t leave her quite yet.”

  “The ambulance crew is here. We need to triage the waiting room. I’ll call headquarters, see if we can get some more help. Who do you want me to call?” Ben watched the table where the infant lay. “She’s alive, right?”

  “For now. I can’t find anything other than dehydration. We need an incubator.”

  “We don’t have one?”

  “No. One of those many things on my list. Or a real crib.” She was bitter; it came through loud and clear.

  Yvette, one of the ambulance EMTs, stopped in the doorway. “We have a possible cardiac here. Where can we put him?”

  “IV in place?” Esther almost looked frightened; Ben must be reading her wrong.

  “Yes, and EKG. We gave him bicarb and started a drip.”

  “Put him in room two.” Esther paused. “Then come back here and stay with this infant.”

  Yvette Carlin, the youngest member on the volunteer crew, nodded and hurried off.

  “Ben, can you triage the waiting room?”

  “Will do, but…” He stared at her face. “You’re dripping sweat and you’re white as that sheet in there. Are you all right?”

  “I will be. Now go.”

  Ben glanced from her to the baby and down at Bo. “He might not let anyone else touch her.” He motioned. “Bo, come. Duty’s done. Come.”

  The dog whined, looking from one human to another. He looked up at the table and settled back on the floor, muzzle between his front feet. His tail brushed the floor.

  “Leave him.”

  “Stupid mutt.” Ben glared at the dog and exited down the hall, speaking into his handheld as he went. “Jenny, can you get us some help here at the c
linic?”

  “As soon as someone else comes in. We put out a general call for everyone to report for duty. How’s the baby?”

  “Hooked up to an IV, but we have no incubator or crib.”

  “Put her in a drawer.”

  “Good idea.” He veered back and gave Esther the message. He left as she was dumping supplies out of a drawer onto the counter.

  It was already standing room only in the waiting room. Ben caught his breath. What to do first? He raised his voice and arms at the same time. “Listen up, folks.” When the hush fell, he started giving instructions, all the years of disaster preparedness training kicking into gear. “I need someone on the phone, someone else to follow me around taking notes. We’ll see you all, but we’ll take you in order of critical injury.”

  Mrs. Breeden, known by everyone as Avis, stepped over to the desk. “I can handle the phone. What do you want me to tell them?”

  “Only critical care here. Otherwise, ask them to remain in their homes for now if it’s safe.”

  Dennis Schumaker, the other EMT, returned from wheeling his patient into room two. “Esther is with him now. Tell me what to do.”

  “Start on that side of the room and I’ll start here. Critical first.” A child off to his left screamed and went rigid in her mother’s arms. He went to her.

  “She has epilepsy. We know what to do. Do you know where a tongue depressor is?”

  He pointed down the hall. “First door on the left. Jar on the counter. If no one is in there, take her.”

  The father leaped to his feet.

  Avis appeared at Ben’s elbow. “Another call for an ambulance.”

  Dennis nodded. “I’ll get Yvette.” He hustled out.

  “Ben.” Jenny’s voice on his radio. “How bad over there?”

  He keyed it. “Full up.” He needed a beer. “Any news on the storm?”

  “Taking up residence right here. Michigan got stood up.”

  “Thanks.” He knew he sounded sarcastic but at this point that might help keep him sane, something along the line of gallows humor. “Where’s Chief?”

  “Responding to another emergency. I’m it for here for right now.”

  While they talked, Ben moved to the next family.

  “I need help in here!” Esther hollered from room two.

  “Be right back.” He strode down the hall and stepped inside two. “What do you need?”

  “Transport south; this is more than we can handle here.”

  The cardiac patient, tilted halfway to sitting on the gurney, looked panic-stricken.

  Rob Lewis appeared in the doorway. “Where do you want me?”

  “You help Esther and I’ll go back to the waiting room.”

  Rob nodded. “I think the Lutheran church is receiving guests. Can we send any of these over there, do you think?”

  “Not so far.”

  Ben paused in the room where the infant still lay without moving, Bo at guard. “Good boy.” At least her color looked better. He touched her face. Not hot, but warmer than before. “Hang in there, little one.” He left for the next crisis, battling the lump in his throat. How could a mother walk off and leave a sweet little baby lying in the muskegs, not even beside the road? How could a God of love allow all this to happen? No time to rage right now, that was for sure.

  The din had grown in the waiting room, only because the number of people had. No one was screaming or demanding, and those who could were already helping those who needed it.

  Ah! Barbara, the nurse who was Esther’s right-hand woman, had returned. She waved him over and handed him a list of names. “I took over triage. These are put in the order I thought most necessary.”

  “Thanks.” He started to call out the next name when an old woman clad only in her underpants followed someone else in through the door. She wove between those on the floor, plaintively calling for her husband. He didn’t know her, but he knew about her. Her man had been gone for three years, and her dementia had grown worse. Usually her neighbors kept track of her. A man rose and draped his jacket around her, then leaned closer to say something in her ear. She nodded and sat down where he indicated, only to rise immediately and call “Harold?” again.

  Ben turned to Barbara. “Get her a gown, please. Maybe someone can run her over to St. Mark’s. Bring out any more blankets, too. Anyone suffering from shock in here?”

  “Most likely everyone, to one degree or another.” She disappeared into the hall. The phone rang again. Avis? Avis must have gone somewhere.

  A man leaning against the wall picked up the receiver. “Clinic. Dr. Esther is tied up right now. Can I take a message? No, ma’am, the room, well, the whole building is full. If you cannot stay in your home, or your neighbor’s, go up to St. Mark’s Lutheran. They’ve opened the Lutheran church.”

  Ben nodded his thanks and moved to the next victim. A little boy tugged his arm. “My momma can’t talk to me no more.”

  “Where is your momma?”

  “Home. She said me and Sissy had to come here.” He indicated a girl at least a year younger than himself. “Then she took a nap.”

  Ben swallowed the bad feeling growing in his gut. “Can you tell me where you live?”

  The boy reeled off his address and clutched his sister’s hand. A bruise on her forehead was already swelling her right eye shut. “A board banged Sissy.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Charlie. Momma says don’t talk to strangers but you’re a policeman, so that’s all right.”

  “Charlie, what is your last name?”

  “Stevenson. My daddy drives a big truck.”

  Ben knew where they lived, a new family in town, and Stevenson was probably on the road somewhere, frantic about his family. “Do you know how to call your daddy?”

  Charlie nodded. “But our phone didn’t work. Momma said to come here. Can you please go wake my momma up now? Sissy is hungry and she messed her pants.”

  “How old are you, Charlie?”

  He held up three fingers. “My birthday is tomorrow. Then I’ll be this.” He held up four.

  Ben patted Charlie’s knee. The child’s skin was cold. “You wait right here and I’ll see what I can do.” He moved down the hallway to call Jenny.

  “What do you need?”

  “I need someone to go to the Stevenson house, that new family in town. The children are here, but Charlie says he couldn’t wake his momma up.”

  “Oh, Lord, no. I’ll call Chief, or—or someone. Anything else?”

  “Tell whoever goes there to call me with the response. I’ll tell the kids.”

  “I will. Ah, Ben, who knows how many have died already in this.” She clicked off.

  Barbara was handing out blankets, but when he beckoned her, she handed the pile to someone else and came over.

  “See those two little kids there? Can you get someone to change the little girl and check them? I’m hoping they can go up to the church.”

  “Will do. That new couple that just came in, you better check them next. How’s Esther doing?”

  “Last I knew she was treating a cardiac in two. Rob is with her, I’ll check. We need someone to clean the examining rooms between patients, too.”

  He left her and crossed to the middle-aged man and woman. He knew these people, too. Wait a minute. He paused in midstep. Barbara did not ask what is Esther doing, or where is Esther, but how is Esther doing. How? Barbara knew Esther as well as anyone; what did she anticipate might be wrong with Esther?

  But then the man before him, Roy Abrams, seized his attention. “I think Denise is bleeding internally.”

  “Let’s get her in here, and I’ll get help.” He led them to three. At least the room where Ernie had his dad was cleaned up now, somewhat. The wrappers were picked up and the bloody gauze dumped in the hot bag. Judging from the crowd in the waiting room in this crisis, they were going to have to put up with semi-clean tonight. “Let’s lay her down on the table. There should be a blanket in that
cupboard there. What happened?”

  “The power went out. I lit our Coleman lantern while she went out on the back porch to bring in some knitting. She can knit by lamplight. That’s when the apple tree fell on the pantry and she got trapped under the rafters. Took me a while to get her out and the phone is dead so I couldn’t call for help. We don’t have a cell phone.”

  “Cell’s dead, too. How long ago?”

  “Might be half an hour. Took a while to get here. Trees are down, power lines; Ben, it’s a horror out there.”

  It was a horror in here, too. Denise looked terrible, pasty and pained.

  “Be right back.” Ben headed down the hall. Suddenly he detoured. His boss, Chief Paul Harden, was coming in the side double doors. The milling crowd, all these people expecting him to make their problem go away right now, that abandoned baby…The fury in him rose and boiled over. He yelled, “Hey!”

  Chief turned and looked at him.

  Ben squared himself directly in front of this man. “Exactly why am I here?”

  “You don’t want to be out there. Nobody wants to be out in this hurricane-on-steroids.”

  Ben spaced his words out clearly, his fury seething now. “I am an experienced border patrol officer. My duties are to catch bad guys trying to sneak over the line and to work with equivalent Canadian officers. I am not a medic; I am certainly not a hospital administrator, nor do I want to be.”

  Chief Harden measured his words just as carefully. “You are here, Officer James, because you’re the only EMT in the county who’s on the national register, you did part of your ER time with Mayo, you’re certified for invasive procedures, you’re levelheaded in tight spots and when you have to you can ad-lib, and unless you’re blotto, you’re dependable, so—”

  “Dependable!” Ben interrupted. “Not even my dog trusts me!”

  “In short, you’re here because we need you. It’s where you were assigned.”

  “No one assigned me here!”

  “I did. And if you’d been at the staff meeting yesterday at four, you would have known that. Next time don’t start drinking until after six.”

  This was his supervisor, his boss, he must not—he didn’t give a rip who this guy was. He was yelling now. “I can’t do this job!”