The Journal: Raging Tide: (The Journal Book 4) (23 page)

April 30

“Okay, the
trailer is attached and secure. Are you ready to roll?” Jim asked,
leaning on the Humvee, his hand back in the sling.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I had no problem
admitting to myself that I was a bit nervous driving with so much
weight behind us.

“Go ahead and pull out. I’ll close the
garage door, turn off the generator, and then lock the front door.”
Jim disappeared and the big overhead door lowered. A few moments
later he climbed in beside me. “I put the spare key in the same
place and turned off the gas at the tank.”

I nodded and put the Humvee in gear, easing
down the steep driveway.

*

Traveling on US 41 was easier this time
since we were aware of the areas congested with abandoned vehicles.
We passed through Negaunee and then Ishpeming where the empty
semi-trailer was still parked. It was all passing in a blur.

“It’s been over a month,” I said, frowning.
“I’m not sure I will recognize the entrance to the mining
road.”

“I’ve got a GPS in my head, Allex, I’ll find
it,” Jim assured me. And he did. I turned the big vehicle with its
heavy payload onto a side road where he indicated and headed
north.

“Wow, I would have missed that for sure!”
Shortly after, I began recognizing the surroundings. When we came
to the rough gravel, I slowed and asked Jim to get the map out.

“Don’t trust me?” he asked with a grin.

“With my life! I only want to see how far it
is to that wet area I marked on our way through here before.”

He opened the side pouch where I had put the
map. “Looks like maybe another five or ten miles.”

I had slowed to twenty-five miles per hour
and chugged along steadily until I saw some shimmering blue a half
hour later.

“The pond has grown,” I said. I stopped the
Humvee when we came to an area where the road was under water. We
both got out.

“This really isn’t a problem for the Hummer,
Allex,” Jim said.

“Humor me, Jim. I want to be sure there is
road under that water!” I took my walking stick and began to wade
through the ten foot wide pool of water, probing as I went. Intent
as I was, I didn’t realize Jim was walking parallel to me, seven
feet away – the width of the Hummer. “Feel anything missing?” I
asked. He shook his head. “Me neither.” I breathed a sigh of relief
and we both trekked back.

“To be on the safe side, I’m going to lead
you across on the same path we just checked,” Jim said. “It’d be a
bitch if we strayed a foot too far only to find the road was gone.”
Jim took the walking stick, centered himself in between our two
paths and waited for me to pull closer. About midway through the
deep puddle the Hummer started to bog down.

“It’s the trailer, Allex! Stay straight and
give it more gas – you’re almost through!” He stepped out of the
way and I accelerated, sending little waves splashing outward in
both directions. The trailer started to slide as the front tires
grabbed dry ground. Once completely free of the puddle I stopped
and got out.

“Well, that was… exciting,” I said, my hands
shaking a little.

“You did great,” Jim said, catching up to
the Hummer. We looked out at the small lakes that had formed in the
last month.

“I can see why this could cause road
issues,” I said. “We had very little snowfall this year. In a
normal year, the meltdown of the snowpack would have made this
unpassable for us.”

We continued on, still moving slowly and
cautiously. There wasn’t any more water over the road, however,
recent rains had made some areas slick with orange mud.

“Not being from around here, forgive my
question of what may be common knowledge. What makes this mud
orange?” Jim asked.

“There are two factors. The first is the
area is iron-rich. Most wells have a lot of iron in them and need
filters unless they are really deep. The other reason is the rain
and snowmelt run along the ground and travel through fallen leaves,
pulling the color. The water is literally stained with organic
tannins and that settles into the ground.”

We traveled slowly for another hour, when
the sky started getting dark.

“Looks like we’re in for more rain. Are you
okay with the driving?” Jim asked.

“It won’t be long, maybe another ten miles
and we’ll be back on pavement. I’m fine, really,” I said as a crack
of thunder roared at us and a streak of brilliant lightning split
the sky. “Whoa! That came up quick.” Another flash of light was
followed ten seconds later by a long, slow, very loud roll. The
next ten minutes was peppered with sky brightening flashes and far
off thunder.

“It sounds like the storm may be moving
off,” I said hopefully. Then the sky opened up and we were deluged
with heavy sheets of cold rain. I held steady in the center of the
gravel road, a white knuckle grip on the wheel. It was getting
increasingly difficult to see.

“Hang in there, Allex, we’re almost
out.”

We entered a more wooded area that would
lead us to the mine road. Once again on pavement, I stopped to take
a few deep breaths. The lightning and thunder were now coming
simultaneously. The rain increased as the wind picked up and rocked
the solid Humvee.

“I think we should find some shelter and
wait this out, Jim. I don’t like the idea of us being in a big
metal box, pulling another big metal box, during an electrical
storm!”

“I agree, but where?”

“The mine is just up the road from here,” I
said, making a hard left turn.

*

It was late afternoon when I pulled around
the guard gates and drove past the administration buildings. In the
artificial darkness caused by the storm the entrance to the mine
itself sat, gaping like a giant maw. I pulled in and stopped. I got
out of the car shaking from the adrenaline surge. Jim climbed out,
still cradling his hand, and walked around looking at the structure
in amazement.

“This is incredible! How did you know it was
here?” he asked.

How did I explain the time I spent there,
waiting for word if John was alive and trapped or dead and crushed
beneath tons of rock after a cave-in? That felt like a lifetime
ago, when it really had been less than ten months.

“The emergency manager got free tours,” I
said, covering up the painful memories with a fragment of truth. I
looked around, noting the chairs and desk were gone, the monitors I
had watched were gone too, and only the map was left on the
wall.

“How far back does this go? It’s too dark to
see.”

“At this level, another two hundred feet,
then it turns and starts to descend in multiple switchbacks.”

“I think what I’m going to do then, is pull
back out of here and back the trailer in so we have access to our
supplies without the chance of getting soaked,” Jim stated,
climbing into the Hummer while I moved off to the side and out of
his way.

The gloom was oppressive as we worked to
unload a few supplies from the Hummer.

“The rain hasn’t slowed. If anything, it’s
even heavier,” Jim said.

The rain came in gray sheets, and the
thunder continued to boom with each flash of lightning,
illuminating the recesses of this manmade cave. The intensity and
briefness of the flashes left me blinded for a few seconds each
time, to the point of having spots dancing in my eyes. I tried to
keep my sight on the interior, however, the mesmerizing fury kept
claiming my attention.

“We’re not going anywhere tonight, so we
might as well make camp,” I sighed. So much for getting home
today.

We turned the tent to face inward, in the
event the rain drained into the shaft. “Even though we can’t pound
stakes into the concrete floor, I think enough supplies and us in
the tent will hold it. It seems to stand well on its own,” Jim
said. He finished threading the final pole in the tent seams.

I set up the camp stove to fix an early
dinner since we’d skipped lunch, and Jim lit the kerosene lantern
to warm up the tent. It was decidedly chilly inside the mine
entrance. While I fried chicken patties for sandwiches, Jim fixed
us each a drink, leaning on the tailgate of the Hummer to enjoy
his.

“Here’s to one final adventure.” He clinked
his tin cup to mine.

“It was a pipe-dream to think we would make
it home without one more happening to write about,” I chuckled.

“Have you been writing down everything about
our trip?” Jim asked suspiciously.

“Well, not
every
thing. Some things
are just too private, and I’m not likely to forget those.” I sat
down next to him. “How’s the hand?”

“Throbbing a bit, but not too bad.”

“The initial healing will be less than a
week. The severed nerve endings will take longer, as will the
broken bone. I keep thinking how fortunate it was that your
non-dominant hand was hurt. You can still use a knife, a fork, a
pencil, even your weapon as you always did. Even though many things
require two hands you’ll have use of the three uninjured fingers in
a day or so. In time you won’t even miss that pinky.”

We finished our sandwiches, washed down with
a pleasant California red blend, and retired to the warmed tent to
listen to the pounding rain.

JOURNAL ENTRY: May 17

The storms
haven’t subsided. The lightning strikes shake the ground; the
thunder is so loud it hurts my ears; and the rain pounding the
ground never lets up – it would make a good torture method.

We walked further back into the mine to see if the
distance and depth would block out some of the noise. It didn’t
work. The sound followed us and echoed off the walls, giving it an
eerie tone. We did try a bit further, however, my claustrophobia
kicked into high gear and I couldn’t breathe.

We’ll just have to wait it out. At least we have
plenty of food, drink, and companionship. Jim now owes me almost a
million dollars in cribbage losses.

~~~

May 18

It was mid-afternoon and the storms had
finally stopped. There was only a mild foggy drizzle now, though a
much heavier, dense fog hung just below the tops of the trees.

“We’re less than an hour from home, Allex, I
say we go for it,” Jim said while he folded up his sleeping bag in
preparation for taking down the tent.

“Yeah, let’s do it. The rest of the route is
all paved, so there shouldn’t be any problems.”

*

The first mudslide we encountered was ten
minutes after we left the mine. We skirted most of it and continued
on. The next one was worse.

Jim stood by the front bumper and stared at
the eighteen inches of wet mud and sand that covered more than
two-thirds of the pavement and stretched for ten feet.

“The Hummer might make it, I doubt the
trailer will.”

“Then we shovel,” I said, getting the small
collapsible shovel that was part of the camping gear.

Jim paced out the dimensions and marked
where to dig. “We don’t have to remove all of it, just enough to
reduce the depth by half and wide enough for the left tires of the
Hummer and the trailer,” he concluded. I started digging. Jim
spelled me, however he couldn’t do much with the injured hand. He
banged it once with the shovel and the pain took him to his knees,
though he stoically said nothing.

We dug for an hour. Wet sand is heavy and my
back ached so much I fantasized about the hot tub and the steaming,
bubbling hot water. It was the only thing that kept me going, that
and seeing my sons again.

“I think we can try it now, Allex,” Jim said
after he walked the length of the digging, kicking at the dirt
occasionally.

“Good, because I don’t think I could lift
another shovel full.” I got behind the wheel and drove right
through, never hesitating, never stopping. Once I cleared the slide
I sped up to a reasonable speed and within twenty minutes we pulled
up to the stop sign at county road 695. I turned right, heading for
my home.

“I’m just going to let them know we’re back,
Jim, then we can take the trailer to the lake house.”I pulled into
my horseshoe shaped driveway and spotted Eric out in the garden
working in the late afternoon sunlight. Chivas came running to
greet us.

Eric dropped the hoe he was using and
followed the dog. “Mom!” He swept me up in his arms for a hug. I
winced silently from the pain in my ribs. “It’s so good to see you!
We have all been really worried! Rayn! Mom’s back!” His new wife
stepped out of the house and came to us for hugs. Eric stepped over
to the large metal triangle I’ve had for years and banged away on
it.

“You’re looking well, Rayn, how are you
feeling?” I asked. I know it’s only been six weeks but I was
thinking she would be showing her pregnancy more.

“I’m doing great. Dr. James let us listen to
the heartbeat a few days ago!” she answered.

The gonging alerted Jason, and soon everyone
was gathered around. I almost wept with joy at seeing my family.
They would never know that I had doubted this reunion at one
point.

“I guess you will be wanting your house
back, eh?” Eric said sadly. His arm was around Rayn’s shoulders and
she had taken on a blank look. Something was going on here, I could
feel it.

Was this that moment when my decision would
play out on its own as I told Jim it would? Many things ran through
my mind in a space of a second or two.

“Actually, Eric, I’ve been considering
moving into town with Jim and Tom. There’s still so much work to be
done,” I said, like it was the plan all along. I saw Jim’s head
turn toward the conversation and he smiled. “Would you mind if you
and Rayn stayed here?” I could almost see the relief slide off my
son. “I’ll come back for the rest of my clothes, but I need a few
things now. I haven’t been able to do laundry in days!” I slipped
past everyone and let myself into the house, where I was greeted by
Tufts. I picked him up and snuggled him, knowing I would have to
leave him behind with Eric. I grabbed a few things from my closet,
noting new items hanging there that must be Rayn’s.