RJ Book 10 Taking Care of Business Page 11

  I guess I could ask her when Dad wasn’t around but I suspected I wouldn’t get much of an answer. I wondered if Grand Mum knew anything?

  Some I had been putting off was coming around. It was the end of term exams next week. I hadn’t done any revising.

  All the courses I had taken this term were from Don’s who stuck to their course notes. I had been keeping up with the notes at odd times this term. While I had cut a lot of classes I had kept up with the reading and course work.

  At this level of schooling there seldom was any work to turn in, just read and understand. One strength I had was my military escorts from when I did attend lectures. If I had any questions on the materials I could ask them on the way to the lecture hall.

  Extremely nice to have my tutors available on an as-needed basis.

  It still left me with the need to go over all the material before next week's exams. The weather forecast for the next week was rain, rain, and then more rain.

  A storm was moving into the area and was going to stall. Depending on long it lasted there could be severe flooding in the area.

  It would be a good time to stay in the library at The Meadows and study. I had talked to David and they were buttoning up the dig and going to indoor work for the next week.

  I did stick to my revisions for the next two days but I was getting cabin fever. I wanted out. The rain had been coming down heavy as forecast and the local streams were all at flood stage or above.

  People were encouraged to stay at home or only drive on the major roadways with good bridges. This meant I had to get out and drive on a backroad.

  Not really, I’m not that dumb. I started on a major road intending to drive down to Pinewood Studios to see what was going on. At the first large intersection, there was an accident involving two articulated lorry’s. Semi-trucks to the Americans.

  The police were directing traffic to a sideroad. We were to follow it for four miles or so and then get onto our original highway.

  Traffic was bumper to bumper at about two miles per hour. I thought people were supposed to stay at home. What are they thinking?

  Needless to say, I wanted out of that line of traffic. When we finally reached the next interchange to merge back onto the highway I could see that it was also backed up for miles.

  Given a choice of getting back into that mess or following the minor road which had no traffic going forward I stayed with the minor.

  That worked well for the next few miles. I was able to get up to fifty miles an hour. It felt like I was flying.

  That worked well until I came to a T-intersection. I turned right as that seemed to go in the direction I needed. About a quarter-mile along the road narrowed to almost a track. The road had high banks on either side and was too narrow for me to turn around.

  I would have to back up to get off this section of the highway. I decided to keep going hoping to find a wide enough spot to turn around.

  The road kept deteriorating until it was nothing but a muddy track. This was a farm road, not a motorway. The Aston Martin wasn’t designed for this type of driving but it struggled on.

  I hoped that I wouldn’t get bogged down in the mud. It would be a long walk out of here in the rain.

  Just as I thought I was in a funnel leading to hell the banks dropped down and the road widened out. Without slowing down I turned and headed back out the way I had come.

  Fingers crossed I kept a steady five mile an hour through the muddy lane. I had to laugh at myself. I was here because I didn’t want to go five miles per hour on a firm motorway.

  Going back I saw a side road I had missed going down. It was at an extreme Y to the track I was on. I wouldn’t have been able to turn onto it going down, this way it was an easy turn on to the solid pavement.

  The drive had been so tense that I slowed the car to a stop and just sat there for a few minutes to catch my breath. The rain was coming down so heavy now that my headlamps and windscreen wipers barely allowed me to see twenty feet ahead.

  At this point, I decided that cabin fever was a good thing and that I need to get home and enjoy it. I restarted my car going straight forward.

  I had no desire to get back on that muddy track and I couldn’t have turned in the correct direction anyway. I had to go slow but it was almost a pleasure since I was on solid pavement.

  As I came around a bend in the road there was a truck blocking the way. It was the type that the telephone company linemen used.

  There was no way to pass them so I coasted to a stop and got out. There was a bridge over a fast running overflowing stream. It now could be called a river, an angry river.

  Instead of a clear placid current, it was a raging dirty yellow. Two men were standing on the center of the bridge looking downstream.

  Chapter 22

  As I approached the two middle-aged gentlemen they appeared to be very agitated.

  “What’s going on here?”

  They turned to me.

  “Look,” one said as he pointed downstream.

  It took a moment for me to realize what I was looking at. There was a small island in the center of the stream. On that island were five children.

  My first thought was that they would be very hungry by the time the wáter went down, though a boat would get to them soon.

  You could tell the children, about nine to ten years old were very distressed. About that time a large chunk of the island washed away.

  There would be no time for a boat to be brought in before the island washed away with the children drowning.

  “We have to get them off there.”

  “We were just trying to figure out how to do that. We have a lot of equipment in the truck. We just haven’t figured out how to get it there, set it up, and bring the children out.”

  I addressed the man who appeared the senior or leader a K. Tregoning from the name tag on his shirt.

  “I mean no disrespect Mr. Tregoning, but this is a young man's job. I will have to go down there.”

  “Call me Ken and I have to disagree with you. I am fit and mature, I can do a better job.”

  His workmate JoeAs tapped his ample belly.

  “Too many good meals and too many years. I doubt I would last a minute down there.”

  Ken said, “I think it is best if I go.”

  Joe started to say, “But, Ken.”

  Ken continued, “This is a full-grown man's job.”

  Again Joe tried to say something but got cut off by Ken.

  “Kid your heart is in the right place but I’m doing this.”

  Joe finally had it, “Ken you can’t swim!”

  That settled that I was the one to go.

  “Have you guys any thoughts of how we can get them out of there.”

  “Yes, if we can get it set up. Our truck is set up to erect telephone poles and string wire.”

  He proceeded to show me the large tripod which could be erected at the back of the truck. It was used to raise and set in place telephone poles.

  Behind the truck was an attacked wagon with a huge spool of telephone wire. It had a power attachment to reel in or unwind the wire.

  “If we can get another tripod set up on that little island we can reel the children up using a bosuns chair. I can still set one up from my Navy days.”

  “What can we use for a tripod down there,’ I asked.

  Ken showed me three telescoping rods.

  “We use this to reach high wires. They extend to twelve feet long so you can bury five feet or so and have a seven-foot-tall tripod. Using one of these pulleys and the power attachment on the wire reel and Bob’s your Uncle.”

  “I can see getting the stuff down there and set up but how will we reel the wire back in?”

  “When the tripod is set up and the first kid is being reeled in, you will have to act as a break by wrapping the wire around your back like in mountain climbing.”

  “We will unwind more than twice
the distance so that you can hand the loose end to the kid and we will reel it in. From there we have an endless pulley to bring the children and you back up.”

  While we were having this conversation the children down below we yelling and screaming to be rescued. In the meantime, another chuck of the island washed away.

  I went back to my auto and put my wallet, watch, keys, and other stuff inside. I also removed my leather jacket and fedora along with my half-boots.

  After more conversation, a line was tied to my ankle. The other end would be used to pull the heavier telephone line to me.

  All this took time. We had been planning and getting the stuff together for almost half an hour. During this time the rain kept pouring down. The stream was raging now.

  Other vehicles had arrived but no one approached to help, they seemed to be ghouls at a tragedy. One man approached us with a microphone in hand, that was when I realized there was a mobile TV truck present.

  The jerk asked how we felt about this. Ken had the best answer when he told the reporter to, “Bugger off.”

  Since I was ready to go I ignored this and stood on the bridge rail in the center of the bridge. This was to be a leap of faith as trees were randomly washed downstream. These were full-grown trees, not saplings.

  One had hung up on the downstream side of the island out of the way. I just had to hope one wouldn’t come through as I jumped.

  Rather than overthink this I did a lifeguard jump into the water. As soon as I hit the water it was like a giant hand had grabbed me and shoved me forward. Fortunately, the lifeguard jump technique kept me from going under. This entailed me spreading my arms and legs wide while hitting the water.

  I had no control of my direction in the water. I planned to jump into the water and be swept to the center of the island. Instead, it rushed me along the right side of the island. I was going to be rushed past the island.

  I was saved by the tree which had hung up on the other end of the island. The water took me directly into its branches. I clung to them as I crawled to shore.

  I was surrounded by six children around eight to ten years of age. They grabbed me and hung on. I thought at first they were trying to pull me out of the water then realized they were clinging to me for safety.

  I herded them to the middle of the island and told them I was there to get them off but had to set some equipment up.

  The line on my ankle was still there so I undid it. Ken and his coworker Joe had tied the heavier telephone wire to the other end. They started the power reel and I guide it to me with the lighter line.

  The three telescoping poles, a quickly rigged bosuns chair, and the pulley had been tied together with a loop around the telephone wire. This allowed them to slide it down to me along the wire.

  It did get hung up about halfway but since the reel was being unwound towards me I was able to pull it in.

  From there it was a simple matter of extending the poles and pushing them into the soft soil. If it had been bedrock the plan would have failed.

  I tied the tripod top together using the light line. I ran the telephone cable through the pulley and attached the bosun's chair to the cable using a surgeon's knot.

  Putting a little girl in the chair I wrapped the end of the cable around my back like a mountain climber. When I was ready I waved at Ken and he started the reverse reel.

  It worked like a charm. Little Barbara was hoisted to safety. The next four children were just as easy. I was lifting the last boy Billy the biggest of the lot into the seat. He was last he told me because it had been his idea to go rafting.

  I bet he was going to get what for when he got home but that wasn’t my concern. What was my concern was that a good half of the island chose that moment to wash away.

  Ken was very alert and was reeling Billie in. As soon as Billie was over the edge of the bridge I grabbed the still reeling cable and started my trip to safety.

  I had to hope the tripod would stand long enough for me to get to the bridge. It was not to be. I was halfway back when I felt the cable behind me go slack.

  I hit the water with a splash, no lifeguard jump this time. I went under. Hanging on for dear life the cable reel brought me out of the water just in time for a tree to come downstream and hit me.

  How I hung on I don’t know. From the force of the blow, something had to be broken. I remember clearing the edge of the bridge and that was it.

  What I found out later was that Ken and Joe were the only ones on the bridge. The water was over the top of the pavement. As soon as I was above the railing they grabbed me and went for dry ground.

  They made it just as the bridge gave way taking it and their truck downstream. I was only unconscious for a few minutes. I came to just in time to see a microphone thrust into my face.

  I love the press. I also learned a few new terms that Ken had picked up in the Navy. I didn’t know that some baboons had striped, well certain portions of their anatomy and that the stripes were purple.

  Amazing.

  An ambulance was on standby. The children had been all examined and were in the custody of their parents. They approached me presumably to thank me. I tried to raise to greet them and blackout again.

  Chapter 23

  I woke up as they were loading me in the ambulance. My left arm and shoulder were a sheet of pain. I had never felt anything like it in my life. I wondered if I would lose the arm.

  The medical technician who was loading me into the ambulance told me I was lucky. I only had a dislocated shoulder and what looked like a greenstick fracture of my ulna. No big deal.

  Not to him maybe, but to me, it was the real deal.

  I knew that a dislocated shoulder was painful and it would hurt as they reset it, but the pain would be relieved quickly.

  A reporter tried to climb into the back of the ambulance to ask questions but Ken Tregoning grabbed him from behind and set him down in the mud. Way to go Ken!

  It only took half an hour to get to the hospital hitting every bump in the road along the way. I had to grit my teeth to keep from yelling. It hurt and this clown thought it was no big deal!

  I started to think about that and realized that if this was no big deal then real pain must be incredible.

  I asked him about it. He told me that he had been in the Medical Corp during the War and that he had seen had heard some things that he still dreamed about.

  That made me think of machine-gun bullets hitting a landing craft ramp. I decided right then and there to stop being a wimp about my injuries and bear up. That lasted for a minute then I had to wince. Dang, it hurt!

  Fortunately, we arrived at the hospital within fifteen minutes. I was wheeled into the emergency room where the doctor on duty ordered x-rays. They handled me like fine china but was still jostled enough that my shoulder hurt like crazy.

  I couldn’t feel my arm. I had heard that the brain could only handle one pain at a time so the worst would always register.

  After the x-rays, I was given a shot of morphine. I had never had anything like it in my life. I was in la-la land. It still hurt but I didn’t care.

  The doctor put my dislocated shoulder back into place. That hurt for a few seconds, really really hurt. Before I could cry out the pain eased. Now I could feel my arm throbbing.

  From a distance, I could hear the doctor saying that I needed a plaster cast on my arm. There was nothing else they could do but let it heal. The same for my shoulder.

  At that point, I drifted off to sleep. I awoke in a hospital bed with my Grand Mum sleeping in a chair beside it.

  Looking out the window I saw that it was dark outside. I wondered how long I had been here? It didn’t matter as I went right back to sleep.

  The next thing I knew it was, “Wakey, wakey, time to check on you.”

  This was from a nurse dressed in white with a grey apron and her funny looking cap. Grand Mum was there and awake.

  My mouth was dry as all get
out so I asked for water. The nurse had a glass of iced water ready for me. I sipped some from a straw.

  Grand Mum asked me how I felt.

  “Terrible, how are the children?”

  “They are all safe and sound, well except for the eldest, Billy, he won’t be sitting down for a while.”

  I had to chuckle at that, he certainly deserved it.

  In the meantime, the nurse had started to take my blood pressure and thrust a thermometer in my mouth. Whatever the readings were she seemed satisfied as she wrote them down on a chart that was hung at the foot of my bed.

  “How does your shoulder feel, Sir Richard?”

  “Very sore.”

  “That is to be expected, try to move it gently for a few days. After that, you will need to work it back to your full range of motion.”

  “Will I be able to play the violin?”

  “That one was old when I was a girl.”

  Grand Mum chimed in, “That was old when Stradivarius was an apprentice.”

  The nurse told me, “In a few minutes we are taking you down to have a plaster cast put on your arm. Do you have to go to the bathroom”

  All of a sudden I realized I had to go urgently.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Let’s see if you can walk by yourself.”

  She hovered while I stood up. I had to stand for a few seconds to make certain my balance was okay. It was.

  I was able to get to the small restroom at the corner of my room and do my business without any help.

  “Sir Richard, the cand strippers will be so disappointed. They were all looking forward to helping you.”

  I groaned at the thought of teenage girls helping me go to the bathroom. It would be so embarrassing. At the same time, maybe one of them would be cute.

  I was put in a wheelchair for my trip to the plaster casting room. I didn’t know what else to call it. I asked and was told they referred to it as casting.

  That caused a disconnect for a moment as I thought of movie casting.

  It didn’t take very long for the man to wrap my arm. First, he placed what he called a mesh stocking on my arm, then wrapped it in soft cotton. After that plaster of parís was used to make the hard shell.