That Perfect Place Page 18

  Jim was already at the barn restraining Leslie lest the precarious pile fall on her. There were sharp wood splinters and jagged metal fragments everywhere.

  “Leslie, give me something with Hunter’s scent on it. We’ll send Newton in to pinpoint his whereabouts.” Jake came up with the little dog tucked under his arm.

  She pulled a pair of soiled gloves from her pocket. “These are his,” she sniffled.

  Jake let him have a good whiff of the gloves then set him down. “Newton, find,” he commanded, pointing at the wreckage.

  Parts of dead, bloody cows were showing, and wounded animals were bawling. Hopefully it wouldn’t throw off the little dog’s concentration.

  Jim meanwhile was checking what was left of the milk room. The roof had blown off, and a lot of debris had flown in. The big milk tank had been knocked off its mounts and thrown against the wall. He was about to leave when Newton started barking furiously at the door between this room and what had been the barn. Jim let him in, and he made a beeline for the tank. Newton crawled between the concrete wall and the tank whining, then yipped happily.

  Jake and Leslie came at a run.

  “I think he’s behind the tank,” Jim said, pointing. The two vets got at either end of the tank and tried to roll it, but it wouldn’t budge. They heard a moan coming from under it.

  “Get your chains. I’ll get the skid loader,” Jim instructed his partner. “Leslie, stay here and keep talking to him. Let him know we’ll have him out in a jiff.”

  The doors and roof were off the machine shed, but the building was basically intact. Jim chose the big John Deere® loader over the smaller skid steer. Not knowing the position of the trapped man, they decided it would be best to lift the tank straight up. It took a few precious minutes to find some good points for the chain attachment. Jake called his dog out so as not to injure him in the process. Leslie operated the bucket so Jim and Jake could get the injured man out. They slid a board under him to avoid injuring him further.

  Hunter was in shock but alive. His right hip was crushed, and he probably had internal injuries. Jim pulled a first aid kit from his truck and got Hunter’s vital signs while Jake started an IV. Cell phones were still down, and the house wasn’t safe to enter to check the phone. Rain clouds were gathering darkly above them, and the wind was picking up. Jake got on his radio and called his sister but got no answer. He tried the county emergency and got the dispatch.

  “We’re really short-handed,” the dispatch operator reported, “and more bad stuff is on the way. I’ll see if I can get you an ambulance from somewhere close by.”

  In less than a minute dispatch was back on the air. “A rescue squad is on its way from Oelwein. Hang tight.”

  “It’s going to be OK,” Jake told the sobbing girls. “Help is on the way.”

  He and Jim were taking the injured man into the garage, which was the only building not damaged by the tornado, when Leslie’s parents drove up in their minivan.

  Leslie and Jim stayed with Hunter, and the grandmother took the kids to her house. Jake and Leslie’s father, Howard Willis, went back to the wreckage of the barn to see if any of the cows could be saved. They found a few cows beyond help, and Jake dispatched them quickly. The northeast corner of the shed was partially intact, and they used a tractor to free five cows that Woody and Buzz then herded into a nearby field to join the largest portion of the herd. He checked each cow and found quite a few injuries that were not life threatening.

  “I’ll get to these cattle later, Howard.”

  “ People come first. The cows can wait a day or so,” the old farmer answered.

  The ambulance had arrived and was getting ready to transport the stricken dairyman. Jake’s deputy friend had come also.

  “Buck, what brings you here?”

  “We’ve had two other tornadoes hit south of here, although not as bad as this one. We have recruited Mrs. Van Slyke to coordinate at the Jesup School for a temporary shelter, and Dr. Maitland is helping with first aid. I was wondering if you and Dr. Cullen could come with me and help check on other rural residents to see who needs help?”

  The three men followed the path of destruction, checking to see who needed medical help and who needed transportation to a shelter. The rain beat down steadily as they covered the area, making the task that much harder.

  At their second stop a woman came out waving frantically.

  “My baby is in there,” she screamed. “I couldn’t find her before it hit. She gets frightened by thunderstorms and hides.”

  Newton didn’t need any instructions when Jake pulled him from the truck. The house was minus a roof and the walls were swaying, but the intrepid terrier threaded his way through the mess and found the little girl curled up in a cabinet. She was sucking her thumb but not crying. Jim checked her over; she seemed unhurt but unresponsive. Buck loaded mother and child into his SUV and took them to safety.

  The two vets continued on, putting flags out to indicate that a property had been searched. Jake numbly followed Jim. “Keep moving or die,” he remembered more experienced soldiers saying.

  At one place an old man was sitting under an awning sobbing.

  “My wife’s in there.” He indicated the pile of rubble that used to be his trailer home.

  Newton set to work again, but this time the outcome was not good. The woman was dead. They covered her with a tattered blanket. Jim attempted to get the man to come into town with him.

  “No, no. I just need to sit here for a bit and come to terms. We were married fifty-seven years. It’s going to take a bit of getting used to.” He wiped tears from his grimy face.

  Jim handed him some tissues and a water bottle from his truck. “Someone will check back with you later.”

  Jake was perched against the passenger seat of his truck just staring into space. Jim recognized that look. He could see the destruction was beginning to bring back memories of war for Jake. Combat veterans, especially wounded ones, frequently had trouble with flashbacks.

  “This is an act of nature, not war, right? Come on, Jakob, you look dehydrated and I know I am. We’ll go into town and get some food and drink. I’ll leave my truck, and we can split the driving.”

  Jake didn’t answer. He just nodded, got behind the wheel, and continued following. A shelter and command post had been set up in the elementary school building. The cafeteria was opened up for emergency personnel. Jim sat his partner down and got him some food and drink. The dogs could sense something amiss and pressed close up against their master.

  About halfway through the meal, Jake put his sandwich down and rubbed his face. “Some days are tougher than others,” he said.

  Jim patted his shoulder. “I know what you mean. You were great back at Brogan’s. You can do this.”

  Jake nodded and was quiet for a few minutes.

  “Jill told me about you and Tina. I hope you two have a great married life,” he said in a more normal tone of voice.

  “I don’t foresee any real problems. Tina is my kind of crazy. I just pity our kid.” Jim hoped the change of subject meant his partner had weathered the worst.

  “I think Jill wants to get married as well. I’m nuts about her, but I don’t know as I’m such a good bargain. I’m sinking in debt, and trouble seems to dog my heels.”

  The Border Collies thumped their tails when he’d said “dog,” so he gave each a piece of his sandwich. Newton tried to steal Buzz’s after finishing his own, but Woody intervened.

  “Tina and I knew we were right for each other that very first night, but we wouldn’t be in such a rush to tie the knot except she’s thirty-eight and I’m forty. We don’t want to wait until it’s too late to start a family. I don’t think you two need to hurry things. You’ve got time.”

  “I’m afraid she’ll leave if I don’t make a decision.”

  “She signed the partner thing, and her sister is here. I think she’ll stay.”

  Jake looked doubtful. He pushed his chair back. “W
e’d better get back on the road. There’s still a lot of ground to cover.”

  Jim grabbed some water bottles, and they headed out. The rest of the afternoon was less traumatizing. They didn’t come across any more trapped or missing people.

  Around seven they finally stopped for a meal. The sun had come out around six, but they had flooding to contend with after nine hours of torrential rain.

  The ranger from the game preserve came up to Jake as he was wolfing down a hot beef sandwich.

  “We got hit pretty bad, Doc. If you can spare us some time, I have a few animals that I think can be saved.”

  “Sure, Dave. I’ve been working with Buck Larson, but I think he’s finished with me.”

  “I’ll check. You finish your meal.”

  Jake sewed up a foot-long gash in an elk’s hindquarter, cast a broken leg on a fox, and removed a splinter from a raccoon’s eye. He had just finished and was picking his dogs up when he got a frantic phone call from Cynthia Mattson.

  “It’s my stud. He doesn’t seem to be able to breathe right.”

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes. See if he has a lump somewhere along his neck.”

  “I checked, but I couldn’t feel anything. Please, Jake, hurry. That horse is everything to me.”

  “Look for something caught in his throat. Try washing his mouth out with the hose. That sometimes dislodges things.”

  “I will. Just hurry, OK?”

  I’m in Hazleton. It shouldn’t take long.”

  Jake left his dogs with Jim, who was working first aid. Tina had come up to help him. She and the dogs were giving comfort to some traumatized residents, and Newton was entertaining the children.

  He raced to Cynthia’s as quickly as the damaged roads would allow. The creek to the east of her property had started to cover the bridge. He splashed through, hoping there was something solid under his tires.

  The horse was down when he sprinted into the barn—anaphylactic shock by the looks of him. Jake grabbed some gear from his Porta-Vet and performed a tracheotomy. He started an IV and administered epinephrine. Within minutes the horse was breathing better and soon rolled up onto his sternum.

  A teary-eyed Cynthia was hanging on his neck. “Is he going to be all right?” she asked.

  “I think so, but we don’t know what caused this. It’s either a reaction to something he ingested or maybe a snakebite. Does he have any swelling that you’ve noticed anywhere?”

  “Not that I noticed.” They both started searching the animal’s body but found nothing.

  “He’ll need some follow-up care, and things up here are a mess. Why don’t we load him up when he’s a little less shaky and send him off to CR or Ames?”

  “How about Hudson? They’re closer.”

  “Call ‘em and see.”

  After about a half hour they coaxed him into the trailer, and his owner stayed with him to watch the IV while her barn manager drove off to Hudson.

  Jake wearily returned to pick up his dogs, hoping to sneak home. His leg was all knotted up and achy, and his back was sore.

  “Jake,” the fire chief called to him before he could get into his truck, “we need your search dog. An older couple just east of here is missing, and their daughter swears they were home when the tornado hit.”

  “What’s the address?”

  “Just follow us,” the chief said, handing him a much-appreciated cup of coffee.

  Several vehicles were already on scene and had lit the area pretty well. The house was totaled, and much of it had fallen into the basement.

  The outside basement door had been cleared, and Jake set Newton down on the steps. “Find,” he said and pointed down the steps. Newton slunk down warily, whining as he went.

  A few minutes later he yipped twice to indicate he had found someone. The rescue squad went to work, shoring up debris as they moved forward.

  Jake called his terrier to him, but all he got was some furious barking.

  “Watch out guys,” he called to the men. “Newton says something’s wrong.” The answer was drowned out by the sound of shifting debris. The vet heard his brave little dog cry out and then silence.

  The workers trooped back up the stairs, coughing as they came.

  “Sorry, Jake. I can’t tell if your dog is just trapped or if he got crushed. We’re gonna need some better equipment to get anybody out of there,” he told his chief.

  They got a microphone down into the corner where Newton had been trapped and heard definite signs of life. High-pitched keening and moans came through the speaker from time to time.

  Jake got as close to the building as he could and called, “We’re coming to get you, little buddy. Stay put.”

  He and the collies sat on the tailgate of the truck and watched. Buzz and Woody would lick his hand once in a while to give comfort, and he would scratch their necks.

  A crane moved in, and the excavation started anew. Sometime around two in the morning they brought out the old woman, still very much alive. Newton was lying on the Stokes basket next to her.

  Jake stood over the paramedics to hear her story. “This little dog crawled into the closet and comforted me while we waited. He didn’t leave even when he was called. A board fell on him though, and I think his leg’s broke.”

  A few minutes later they brought out her husband. It looked as though he had suffered a stroke, and they hustled him off to the hospital.

  ake gently carried Newton to the truck and placed him on the front seat. The little fellow cried out in pain as he was set down, so the collies snuffled him to give him comfort. It was nearly three when he got to the clinic. He had to take the long way around because the creek had flooded Havecare Road and the gates were closed. He had called ahead, and Jill was waiting for him at the door, yawning.

  She sedated the heroic Jack Russell right in the truck to make transport easier on him. The x-rays showed a fractured femur. Jake filled her in on his exploits as they worked. They splinted his leg and placed him between them in bed so they could monitor him easily and still get some sleep.

  Jake had shucked his dirty clothes and nearly fell asleep in the shower. He passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

  He awoke with a start around eleven on Sunday…as an RPG ripped into his chopper, taking off half his foot and the face of the soldier across from him. Oh God, don’t let this start again. He sat up and covered his face. He was coated with sweat and breathing hard. The flashbacks hadn’t been this intense in years. He had lived and others died and it was over, but it seemed that it wouldn’t quite leave him alone.

  He used his crutches to get himself into the bathroom and clean up. Pull yourself together, he told his reflection in the mirror. Brad was playing video games when he went out to the kitchen still using crutches.

  “You make it through the funeral OK?”

  “Yeah. Mom was a mess, and we had to run inside the church basement because of the tornado. Lots of people came to the house, and that helped. I’m going over again today and staying ’til Tuesday when Mom leaves—if that’s OK?”

  “Of course.”

  “Boy, Dad, you look wiped. Maybe you should go back to bed.”

  “It was a rough day and a half. I’ll take a nap later.”

  Jill came in about that time with Newton, who was now sporting an Elizabethan collar.

  “I swear, this dog could type with these teeth. He pretty much had the splint off when I woke up.” She set the dog on the couch with Brad. “Did you get any sleep? You were kind of restless.”

  “Not enough. I’ll try again later.”

  “Jim called about nine. He’s going to do some first aid on some of the stricken livestock today. Steph offered to come in, and I’ve got some pets scheduled.”

  “I guess I’d better see what’s needed and pitch in.”

  “If you’re up to it. I’ve already taken care of Dusty. There are some leftovers in the fridge. Get something in your stomach and see how you feel afterward. We can
make do without you if you’re not up to it.” Jill gave him a quick kiss and breezed out with a hastily prepared sandwich.

  Jake ate and forced himself to behave normally. He made it down to the clinic about one and spent the rest of the day ministering to cats, dogs, and horses injured by the tornado and ensuing floods.

  Monday was a repeat of Sunday, but by the end of the day things were getting back under control. Jeanine brought Chinese take-out for the overworked vets. Jim recounted his and Jake’s exploits from Saturday. Jake was unusually quiet, which everybody attributed to fatigue.

  Jeanine asked, “So how did Newton break his leg?

  “He was locating a couple trapped in their basement, and it collapsed on him. It was a rough two hours until they finally got him out. I was afraid I had sent another soldier to his death.”

  Jeanine looked sharply at her brother. Jim looked at her and raised his eyebrows.

  “Jakob,” Jim said forcefully, “we are not at war. Newton was just doing what he was trained for.”

  “Yeah, but I trained him and sent him in. His death would have been on my conscience.”

  “Bullshit, Jake. I watched him yesterday. He loves to help. I think he has some concept that the people he finds need help. How many times have you seen a dog adopt a kitten? Or a calf and a foal cling together in a bad situation?”

  “You’re right. I’m being overly dramatic.”

  “I don’t think so,” Jill spoke up. “I would have been devastated if he had died Saturday. Newton is part of the family. I think it’s OK to grieve for our animal friends.” She put her arm around his shoulders.

  Jeanine resolved to pull Jill aside and talk to her about PTSD. Jake had never had it too badly, but issues did crop up from time to time, like when the clinic burned, killing his father and Rachel, and especially after his grandfather had died. Jake had been closer to old Lars than he had ever been to either of his parents, and his grandfather’s demise had been sudden. Both times Jake had snapped back after a few days of rest. He was supposed to be taking antidepressants, which Jeanine knew he wasn’t doing. Hopefully, he would shake this off quickly without outside help.