Heart Calleth Page 2

  * * *

  "Cosmic dust from a supernova explosion millions of light years away, finally reached our galaxy and collided with our sun," the anchorwoman on one of the few remaining radio stations explained. The medical staff in the rest area of the makeshift hospital tent listened with weary, knitted brows, their stares glazed with continuing disbelief. Sandra, nursing a cup of diluted coffee and powdered milk, sat in a corner, at one of the folding tables. The tent sheet separating her and the other volunteers from the hospital area did nothing to muffle the groans and wails of the victims. "The impact of the collision with our sun was so fierce that it increased the explosions in our sun to the degree of causing intense solar flares to radiate toward earth," the anchorwoman went on.

  "Two hundred fifty-million years ago, and again about sixty million years ago, a similar situation occurred, and changed the face of the earth. Scientists, at least those surviving this world-wide devastation, have reached the conclusion that it is possible a new ice age … may be … commencing." The anchorwoman's voice slowed and cracked under the strain of her own fears. She caught herself, cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. "Despite the chaos, we are in no way near the conditions shone in many post-apocalyptic films. Yes, almost every nation has suffered earthquakes, volcanic eruptions and tidal waves. Most horrific, huge sinking landmasses have claimed entire cities and millions of lives. Nevertheless, most governments remain intact and are actively engaged in all-out efforts to salvage and reestablish order. Here in the States, scientists are confident that for the present, the worst is over."

  Sandra chuckled wryly. Long time ... lifetimes ... before the worst was over, before the world returned to any semblance of what her generation had known up to a few weeks ago. The face of the earth had changed. The West Coast was gone, along with the Northeastern coast. Huge gaps in the country were now filling up from underground streams and forming lakes and rivers where solid ground and cities had stood only days ago. Europe and Asia, all the continents were suffering similar fates. Struggling with despair threatening to suffocate her, Sandra rose, simultaneously trying to ignore the aches in her legs and her back. The patients on the other side of the canvas wall were in far greater pain. Some would not live to see tomorrow. She tossed the paper cup with half its watery contents remaining into a garbage bin salvaged from a McDonalds. Coffee would soon become a luxury, and milk a gourmet treat.

  Again the thought intruded, Where were Kevin and Laura? The couple had left on a cruise ship for the Caribbean the night of their wedding, blissfully unaware that a few hours hence solar flares and clouds of hot plasma would strike the earth at various points. In many areas, the sun flares had destroyed the ozone layer. Luckier than most, the United States retained almost all of its ozone layer intact. Laura's parents had also left for the Caribbean, on the same ship, for a second honeymoon, after 25 years of marriage. Laura had purposely planned her wedding date to coincide with her parent's anniversary. Greenvale's casualty list included two-thirds of the small town. And although Kevin and Laura and her parents were not listed as definite casualties, there had been no word from or about them since that fatal morning. The cruise ship had been reported missing, but no one, dead or alive, had been found. Sandra's fingers clenched as she fought back visions of the very real possibility of their death. She passed between the canvas flaps leading into the hospital area. "Sandra, I'm glad you're back," Dr. Shah, a small-framed man with short peppery hair and Indian features, called to her.

  She hurried toward him. He was bending over a patient newly brought in, a young man that looked to be in his early twenties. Sweaty stubble covered the young man's jaw and cheeks, and his eyes, murky and unfocused, stared emptily. "The Coast Guard transferred him from their Emergency Med Center. No ID. He's off the critical list, but still in shock, and hasn't spoken a word since they found him drifting in the water, two weeks ago. He needs bathing and a change of clothes."

  "Right on it, Doctor," Sandra offered.

  Dr Shah nodded gratefully, adding, "Now if we could enlist a few more assistants like you."

  Before she could acknowledge his compliment with a smile, he was called to tend another patient just brought in.

  Sandra gazed down at the amnesiac. If he knew where he was, or if he saw her, he gave no indication. His breathing was shallow, his hospital gown plastered to his skin with perspiration. She checked the chart hanging on the side of his cot. "John Doe," it read. "Temperature - 97.6 degrees, vital signs - good. The patient appears to be suffering from traumatic shock, withdrawal, loss of memory."

  "Okay, John, let's see what I can do to help you?"

  Two weeks later, John sat, composed on a brown metal folding chair, outside the hospital tent. His dark brown eyes were clear and focused, and the emptiness replaced with a nostalgic sadness. A cold breeze, unusual for a July noon, billowed the short sleeves of his striped shirt two sizes too large for his thinned figure. The sun, looking a little pale, brought out the yellow highlights in his brown hair. "Oh, here you are," Sandra said as she exited the tent, carrying a lunch tray to her patient. "It's a lovely day. I'm glad you're enjoying the fresh air. I've brought you your favorite ... Ham and Cheese on white. Sorry, no Mayo, as yet. But I hear we may get a shipment any day."

  The makeshift hospital had been set up near a barbecue area in the center of what had been the town's largest park, now a preamble to a beachfront. Redwood tables and benches were scattered about a few feet from where John sat. Sandra placed the tray on the nearest table and beckoned John to come sit and eat. "So how are you feeling today?" she asked when he was sitting beside her at the redwood table. "Better," John said.

  Sandra nodded appreciatively. A week ago her patient had finally spoken, a simple 'thank you', and with those words the empty look in his eyes had altered to bewilderment at his whereabouts. "Any memories surface as yet?" Sandra asked.

  "Yes, a very important memory. My name."

  Sandra almost leapt to her feet. "All right! So what is it?

  "David Hauser. Med student. And today is my birthday." Sandra beamed. "You're a Yankee Doodle Dandy. Wonderful. Wait till I tell the staff! This will make a perfect ending to the Fourth of July celebration planned for tonight. When did you remember ... your name, I mean?"

  "A couple of days ago."

  "And you didn't say anything?"

  "I wasn't perfectly sure. Everything's been so fuzzy. But it's all coming back, slowly; even what I'd prefer not to remember."

  "It's necessary," Sandra said. "One needs to work through the pain to find confidence and peace of mind." She'd repeated that sentence over and over in her conversations with the recovering patients until it felt tired and clichéd.

  "That's well put," David said, picking up the sandwich. "I remembered something else as well. In fact, it's what started the trickle of memories. You. I remembered your name."

  Sandra looked puzzled. "My name is on my ID tag." She pointed to the plastic card pinned near her left shoulder on her aide's uniform.

  "Your first name. I remembered your surname. Kile, Sandra Kile. Sandy."

  Sandra gaped. "You know me?" But for the life of her, she had no memory of him.

  "I remember you, and Kevin and ... Laura."

  Sandra caught the reverent pause when he mentioned Laura's name. "I was one of your classmates in grammar school," he went on. "But I don't blame you for not remembering me. I wasn't very noticeable at that age. I had just begun to earn my nickname ... geek, and later, bookworm. My family and I moved to Boston the summer after I completed my third grade."

  "Well, you don't remind me of geek, now. And I hope I've outgrown those foolish notions." Indeed he bore no resemblance to what the word "geek" implied. She admired intelligence and shy reserve, and she had interpreted correctly the pause just before he'd spoken Laura's name. She covered his hand in a friendly gesture. "You loved her too, didn't you?"

  David nodded. "Yes, I did. But she was always Kevin's girl, from the moment they
first met."

  "Kindergarten ... yes, I remember." Just as I've loved him, from that time as well. Sandra squeezed his hand. "Right," she said. "Well, she's his wife now. They were married a few weeks ago."

  David's eyes acquired a beaten cast.

  Sandra added quickly, "You mustn't be sad. When you love someone, truly, then you wish only to see them happy. And Laura was happy. If ever there were two people in love, it —"

  "You haven't heard then, have you?"

  "Heard … what?" A chill swept over Sandra.

  "Kevin and Laura were killed ... drowned at sea."

  A gasp riddled with horror escaped her lips.

  "I'm sorry to be the bearer of such bad news." David glanced down at Sandra's hand covering his, now trembling. "I'm sorry I had to remember. I'm one of the survivors. Call it coincidence … or a quirk of fate … I happened to be on the same cruise ship. We met at breakfast, that first morning on the ship. You're right, Laura was very happy."

  "And Kevin? Was he content?" Sandra asked, bravely holding back tears for the sake of her patient.

  David nodded. "I don't think I've ever seen a man, more content."

  "How ... How did it happen?"

  "A tidal wave, one of the thousands the solar storm caused. There was no warning. One moment the sky was placid and sunny, and then it was as if hell opened up a hatch, and spewed out a wave hundreds of feet high. It smashed against the ship splitting it into pieces. There wasn't enough left of the ship to knock it over. I don't remember much more, except coming to in the water, holding on to a life buoy. Somehow before passing out I'd managed to loop my belt around my arm and hitch it to the encircling rope on the life ring.

  "I learned later I'd been drifting in the water for close to two days," David continued. "But I wasn't that far from shore. The cruise ship had been following the eastern coastline, headed for Florida. But Laura and Kevin were not among the survivors. I think that's what made me finally snap and lose my memory."

  "Laura's parents were on board as well ... a second honeymoon. Did they survive?" Sandra asked.

  David shook his head.

  It was hard to speak with the gulp in her throat. But it was her job to encourage and lift spirits. "At least it's a comfort to know they're together," Sandra said. Then as a flood of tears threatened to choke her, "I have duties to attend to," she said. The truth was she needed to be alone to sob and let the tears loose.

  * * *

  The days passed slowly, but eventually turned into weeks and months, during which the town began rebuilding itself. The hospital first, then the administrative buildings and finally private homes, although the shelters continued to teem with homeless.

  Laura and Kevin's death were not the only shocks that Sandra coped with. Her aunt passed away quietly in the night. "Heart failure" the coroner's report stated. Sandra knew it should have read, "Broken heart." Blessedly, she receive two telegrams, one from her father, and one from her mother, requesting to know if she and her aunt were all right. Sandra wired them the sad news and assured them of her own safety. They both sent their condolences, moneys, and their love, and relief to know Sandra, herself, was not hurt. They regretted not being able to visit, but now more than ever, their jobs needed them, as the offices were relocating. They each promised to send her their new addresses as soon they, themselves, learned them.

  David healed and left the makeshift hospital, long before all the patients and staff moved back into the newly rebuilt hospital. After a few weeks he was able to return to Med School and resume his studies. As the months passed, Sandra and he lost touch. The country, though devastated with loss of life, and reeling under the impact of damaged technology that would take years to restore, was nonetheless also on its road to recovery. Now a paid employee, Sandra continued to work at the hospital as a receptionist and nurse's aide. She lived in a small apartment complex provided by the hospital on its grounds for employees who like herself had lost their families and homes during the quakes.

  The earth itself was badly shaken. Many countries where the sun flares caused by the solar storm had seriously damaged the ozone layer, were turning into barren wastes. Those countries that had suffered the least damage now swelled with refugees, so many that wars over boundaries seemed ludicrous and would prove futile in a world now desperately needing the help of every survivor. There were countries submerged under oceans. Wherever enough technology remained, underwater domed cities were being constructed. The United States' coastlines had changed now that the land along the northeastern and the western coast was gone. The government's first rebuilding effort had centered on lifting up and dragging the Statue of Liberty onto the new coastline, where it now stood welcoming a new influx of immigrants and refugees. Sandra's life had taken on a routine of work and sleep, broken only by an evening or two at the hospital's recreation center for employees and patients alike. It was on a morning like all the others since the quake, as she sat inside the information booth, that she raised her head from the visitors' entry ledger and gazed into Kevin's eyes.

  "S-Sandy? ― Sandra? Kevin stuttered, relieved, and overjoyed to see a familiar face at last. Very little familiar to him remained. He reached for her over the countertop as she sprung from her seat, and clasped her shoulders like those of a long lost and found sister. "Oh God, it's good to see you."

  "Kevin, you're alive!" Sandra cried. "Laura?"

  Kevin felt a new twist of the knife that had pierced his heart that fatal morning aboard the cruiser. In a hoarse voice he explained, "Laura's gone."

  She was silent for a moment. Then she whispered, her gaze filling with compassion, "I'm so sorry."

  "It's all gone, Sandy. My whole world! My parents, my home, the one being I lived for."

  Sandra had heard that his parents were killed in the initial quake as they slept late in their bed the morning after the wedding. They had fared no better than Laura's parents on the cruise ship.

  "My Aunt died a few months ago. Her heart, it just gave out," she commiserated.

  "And your mom and dad?" Kevin asked. "If I remember, they were out of town when the quakes started."

  "I heard from them a few months ago. They're okay, but on the road."

  It was hard for Kevin to conceive of parents so indifferent to their only child. His mother and father had always been there for him, close, protective, and affectionate. "I'm glad you had Aunt Jennifer to love you, and I'm sorry for your loss."

  Sandra nodded. "But where have you been these past months?" she asked, her tone implying, no more sad thoughts for now.

  "In a hospital on the Southeastern coast, healing. I almost died. When the tidal wave hit the cruiser, Laura and I were having breakfast on deck. I don't remember the ship breaking apart. I was knocked unconscious the moment the wave hit. It came up on the ship so sudden, as if it weren't a tidal wave at all, but the ocean bursting upward, the wave surging from below. When I came to, I was in a ward with a score of other survivors. I'd suffered a concussion, and was in a coma for weeks. When I learned that Laura was not among the survivors found by the coast guard rescue ship, I refused to believe she had drowned. I spent weeks contacting other coast guard rescue units along the coast, and searching all the Medical centers that had been set up and down the new coastline. There was no sign of her. She's gone. I finally realized I had to accept that I will never see her again …" Hear or touch her again, or feel her arms about me ... at least not in this life. His head bent, he went on, "Then when I arrived home, or what was left of it, I learned that my parents had been killed in the initial quake."

  "What about your brother?" Sandra asked compassionately.

  "Some of our neighbors have returned to their homes with the intent of rebuilding. I spoke to them. Anthony is alive, but gone away, with no forwarding address."

  "Maybe he heard, like most of us, that you'd been killed."

  Kevin's mouth tensed. Anger, that's what he felt. Angry at nature and at life itself. He was even angry with God for al
lowing this to happen. He stared down at the polished surface of the raised desktop, the surface a screen for his innermost grief. Laura, his parents, all the dreams and plans for the future....

  Cool fingers tightened about his hand. He glanced up at Sandra. With her free hand she tried to wipe away the tears that had slid down his cheeks. "Where are you staying?" she asked.

  "At one of the shelters, in town."

  "You're going to stay at my place until you get your affairs sorted. I'm the closest you have to a family at the moment."

  She was right. He had relatives scattered throughout the States, but right now he preferred to be with a friend, especially one who had always been close to him and Laura. "Yes, I'd prefer that to sleeping in an auditorium with a hundred others, but just for a few days. I won't be staying in Greenvale."

  "Where are you going?" Sandra asked, anxiously.

  "Idaho. The Government's giving away abandoned farmland to anyone willing to brave the upheaval. There's a desperate need in the country for wheat and vegetables and fruits. You know that owning a farm was always my dream. Now it's being handed to me. I've got my diploma, and I'm ready for the years of experience..."

  He knew he sounded cold and matter of fact, probably not making much sense. But he was reluctant to end this conversation with the closest person to a relative near him. He welcomed her offer to stay at her apartment, even if he planned to leave in a few days. Next to Laura, Sandra was the kindest, most sincere person he knew. And he needed to be with someone who understood his loneliness.

  Sandra asked, "So what brings you to the hospital?"

  "Well, to be truthful, I heard a rumor you might be working here." Oddly he felt embarrassed admitting he'd come to see her, as if Laura might object, as if he were being unfaithful. Again he had to remind himself that Sandra was their friend, and his beloved was with the angels.