Skyward (37 page)

Lijah miraculously called up from below the limbs of the tree.

Harris looked into the face of the old man. “Take care of her,” he shouted as he lowered his daughter from the tree into Lijah’s waiting arms.

Firemen came running around the corner, calling out to him to stay put. Harris waited until he saw Lijah carry Marion to safety, then turned and leapt through the window into the burning building.

He found Fannie lying on the floor near the window, struggling to breathe in the few inches of air. He crawled be side her and gathered her in his arms, alarmed by the streaks of black smoke across her face. Her eyes fluttered open and he knew the moment she recognized him through the haze of smoke because she shrank back with a hoarse whimper.

“Don’t be afraid, Fannie,” he told her. “I’m here.”

She moved her cracked, parched lips, but Harris couldn’t hear what she was saying against the roar of the fire. He tilted his ear close to her mouth.

“Marion?” she rasped from her ravaged throat.

He met her gaze. “She got out. She’s okay.”

Fannie’s eyes were consumed with relief, then she closed her lids.

An explosion in the next room rocked the house, as though the beast had risen and roared in fury. The power of its fiery breath rattled the rafters, shaking loose chunks of ceiling and shattering glass as beams collapsed around them. Harris felt the foul plumes of heat hiss past him, sucking the air from his lungs and singeing the hairs on his body.

Fannie clutched his shirt and choked out a scream.

Harris put his back to the flames that were lapping the walls and, crouching to shield her from the heat, lifted Fannie into the black smoke. “Hold on,” he shouted.

He never would remember how he managed to carry her through the wall of murky smoke to the window. Firemen in yellow-and-black coats swarmed like worker bees at a hive, cutting out the shards of glass and wood from the window while shouting out instructions. As he lowered Fannie into their arms, she looked back at him with red-rimmed eyes. He froze, transported back in time. In those eyes he saw again the same amalgamation of raw fear, deep-seated sorrow and haunting regret that he’d seen in the eyes of the eleven-year-old girl who had come to his house many years before, seeking a safe haven.

The house shuddered and wailed once more. Then all was blackness.

Survival.
Because birds of prey are numerous and conspicuous, many people are unaware of their struggle to survive. They all have many natural predators, yet their defensive behavior is highly variable. Some fly away at a threat while others defend their nest aggressively. The beautiful plumage of most raptors acts as camouflage in their natural environment. Still, disease, lack of food, human threats and, most of all, the loss of their habitat make each day a challenge to survive.

24

ELLA SAT AT THE NURSES’ STATION LOOKING out the front plate window at another sultry summer day. There’d been a long string of steamy days this July and she’d been looking to the sky for signs of clouds and rain that would break this monotonous hot spell—like everyone else in Charleston.

A bittersweet smile eased across her face as she sunk her chin into her palm. She really shouldn’t complain. Warmth was what she’d come south for…

She dropped her palm and adjusted her position in her chair. Any thoughts that drifted to the past still had the power to stab with pain. Though it was much better now, she’d learned to steer clear of that line of thinking and to keep busy.

She was a nurse again. This meant a great deal. Her profession gave her life purpose, and her dealings with patients gave it meaning. But she wasn’t the same nurse she’d been before. Her time at the birds of prey center had changed her life forever. She likened herself to a bird that had been rehabilitated, a trauma case restored to her former healthy state and condition, and then released. Now she was expected to establish herself in her new territory and to flourish.

Well, she’d done her best. After leaving Awendaw she’d returned to Charleston and accepted a nursing position at the Medical University Hospital. At the beginning it was all she could do just to get up every morning, get dressed and go to work. She’d never known such heartache, such raw pain. But each day she thought of him a little less, and each night before falling asleep she told herself that tomorrow would be easier. Finally one day she found herself laughing once again. And she knew then that she could continue on with out him, that she would be just fine.

Ella smoothed her uniform, trying to ignore the resistant pain that still lurked in the deep recesses of her heart. She wasn’t over him yet. She still loved Harris. She probably always would. Even though she knew she shouldn’t love him, because he belonged to another, she felt no shame for her love. It was the purest, most true thing she’d ever known. The past few weeks since she’d left him had been the most painful in her life, but her love for him had brought her her great moments of joy. She wouldn’t trade her experience at the center for anything.

And she’d learned from her experiences working with the birds of prey. From Harris she’d learned to keep her voice low and pleasant, to minimize her patients’ stress and to always treat them with respect, even when they were snapping and attacking. She’d learned from Lijah to open her mind and heart and to take the time to listen to what her patients were telling her. And most of all, he’d taught her to watch. To ob serve. To pay attention to the telling details.

She needed to hope that her love for Harris had made her stronger, like metal forged by fire. After all, this hope and her memories were all she had left.

Ella turned from the window when a limping young girl was ushered into the emergency room by a cadre of friends. The girl wore skimpy clothes and heavy makeup, but Ella’s experienced eye marked her as a fifteen-year-old. Grateful for the distraction, Ella hurried to her feet to meet the girl across the floor and put her arm around the girl’s trembling shoulders. The girl burst into tears and Ella thought to herself how all pretenses collapsed in the emergency room.

“Girls, you have to wait out here,” she told the cluster of worried friends when she escorted the patient into the treatment room.

The girl’s toe was sliced open from a seashell and, medically, all she needed were a few stitches. Looking at her ashen face, the quivering lip and tear-filled eyes, however, Ella knew the girl needed something more. She reached out to take her hand.

“Carrie,” she said in a calming voice. “I’m going to clean the wound, then the doctor’s going to stitch you up. Everything is going to be okay.”

The girl looked into Ella’s steady gaze and her fear diminished. She nodded, sniffing. “I guess I should’ve been more careful.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Everyone likes to run on the beach.”

“Yeah?” She wiped her eyes. “I wouldn’t know. It’s the first time I ever saw the ocean. I’m on vacation with my family. We’re from Ohio. You’re lucky to live here.”

Ella chuckled and rose to prepare the tray for the attending physician. “What would you say if I told you I’ve never even been to the ocean?”

“Really? But it’s right there. You can go any time you want.”

Ella felt the twinge of pain inside her heart again and was glad she had her back to the patient. Harris had promised he would take her and Marion for an outing at the beach this summer. She couldn’t yet bring herself to go alone.

The door to the treatment room swung open and a fellow nurse poked her head in. Ella could see the faces of the girl’s three worried friends peeking in behind her.

“Ella? We just got a call from the paramedics. They’re bringing in two burn victims.”

Ella nodded in understanding. “The doctor will be right in. And don’t worry. You’ll be fine,” she said to the young girl with a pat on her hand.

She hurried into the hall, pausing only to tell the girls that their friend was going to be okay. Adrenaline was pumping in her veins. Burn victims were some of the most difficult to treat. Each second was critical.

“What do we know?” Ella asked Liz when she came to the front desk.

Liz was a middle-aged woman who’d seen it all. It took a lot to get her excited. She was as wide as she was tall and had to hold her breath in order to reach far over the desk to grab the sheet of paper and draw it near. “Here it is. This says there was a fire over in Awendaw,” she said, reading. “Up at that birds of prey center. They’re bringing in two burn victims.”

Ella stood frozen in shock while the attendant continued reading the rest of the report. She couldn’t hear the words against the rushing of blood in her ears. Over and over she replayed only the words
Fire… Birds of prey center… Two victims.
And all she could think was, who?

“Ella? Are you all right?”

She became aware that Liz’s blue eyes were looking at her with concern, and that she’d been standing there, like a stone figure, not answering her questions.

“Who are the victims?” she blurted out.

Liz leaned back in her chair, stunned by the frantic tone of Ella’s voice. She ducked her head and scanned the report again. She shook her head and raised her eyes, almost apologetically. “It doesn’t give names. It only says they’re bringing in a woman and a man.”

“A woman?” Ella jumped on this. “Not a child? A little girl?”

She shook her head, frowning with suspicion. “That’s all it says.”

Ella spun from the desk and ran to the triage room, her heels pounding the polished floors. En route she called out to make certain that the burn specialist had been called down to the E.R. She gathered together the supplies that would be needed for treatment, muttering to herself as she worked at a fevered pace. “It won’t be Marion. Of course it won’t be her. What would she be doing at the clinic, anyway?” Her mind would not even allow her to contemplate the
man
being brought in.

Ella had learned over the years not to pray to God for anything specific in the emergency room. A woman could lose her faith pretty quickly if she did. Instead, as she laid out the bandages and equipment with hands that were remarkably steady and efficient, Ella prayed that she’d have the strength to do her best in the next few hours. And that she would be able to understand and accept and live with whatever came through those doors.

She didn’t have to wait long. Twenty minutes later the emergency room doors slammed open and the first gurney was rushed inside. Ella ran to it, gripping its sides and peering down at the patient.

She was ashamed of the relief she felt when she recognized Fannie.
Not Marion…
Fannie’s face was blackened with soot, her eyes were closed and her muscles slack. Ella knew immediately that she was dead.

She released the gurney and let it pass, then turned to face the second gurney that was now being pushed through the doors. She stood motionless, unable to move, waiting for what seemed an interminable amount of time while the paramedics navigated through the double doors. Her eyes traveled wildly across the man’s body as the gurney wheeled closer. His dirt-stained work boots peeked out from the edge of the blanket. The cuffs of his pants were blackened and torn. His hands, his beautiful long fingers, lay still, scraped, and his nails were embedded with soot. Then, when she could hold back no longer, she slowly raised her gaze to his face.

Even as she saw the wicked, raw-red burn slash on his cheek and the bandage across his eyes, even as she stared at the ravaged shoulder, her heart surged with rapture at seeing the face that she loved more than all others—alive! She gripped the sides of the gurney and ran alongside as they raced to the treatment room.

“What happened?” she asked the paramedic.

“This guy’s some kind of hero,” he replied. “He brought out his daughter.”

Ella’s breath hitched. “Is the child all right?”

“Yeah. They’re bringing her in just to make sure. She’s shook up, though. She was inside the building with her mother when the fire broke out.” He jerked his head toward the other gurney where the medics were covering Fannie’s head. “Had to be tough for the kid.”

“What happened to him?”

“After he brought down the kid, he went into the building after the mother. They tried to stop him. Some guys, they just don’t listen. The firemen came running but he’d already jumped in. I have to hand it to him, though. He found the lady and got her out. But he got a bad break. The roof fell as he was climbing out the window. Lucky for him that the fire men were there to pull him free.” He shook his head. “It’s too bad, you know? But the fact is, he shouldn’t have gone in. It was too late to save her.”

Ella looked down at the burned and unconscious man on the gurney while tears welled in her eyes. “He couldn’t have made any other choice,” she said softly. “It’s who he is.”

“I don’t know about that,” the paramedic replied in his brusque manner. “I’ve seen this kind of thing over and over again, where some guy rushes in to save someone. And I always wonder. Does the man make the choice? Or does the choice make the man?”

They wheeled him into the treatment room where the burn specialist was waiting. The team moved quickly, tearing off his clothes, inserting IVs and treating the burns that she knew would scar his left cheek and shoulder. She was sad to see his handsome face marred, but what did that matter, really? It only mattered that he healed and got well. She worried most when they removed the bandage covering his eyes. Harris fluttered open his eyelids, then gazed out blankly. He didn’t blink under the bright lights.

Ella shared an ominous glance with the doctor.

Harris raised his hand and groped into the air with fear. She quickly grabbed it and held tight.

“Harris, it’s me.”

His eyes searched but were unseeing, and his lips, cracked and dry, opened. “Ella?” he rasped.

“Yes, I’m here.”

He squeezed her hand in his and closed his eyes tight. “Don’t leave me.”

Ella held on to his hand, firm and steadfast, yet her heart took off. She felt as though she were a hawk, flying high above the emergency room, circling round and round with her wings outstretched, crying out a piercing, plaintive call. With her binocular vision, she brought forth images from her past, narrowing her focus, resolving the images with remarkable clarity: Bobby’s hand relaxing and his heart monitor flattening, Buh Rooster staring back at her from the loblolly pine, Brady and Clarice laughing together with shining eyes, Marion’s downy head resting against her breast, the whispered wing beats of an owl against her cheek, Lijah standing beside the cabin smoking his pipe, Harris’s arms reaching out for her under a dimly lit tarp, in the tangled sheets of a narrow bed, drawing her into safety, closer to his heart, bringing her home.

Like the hawk to the lure, Ella grabbed hold, never to let go. Her heart lifted her higher, higher than she’d ever dreamed possible. And smiling down at him, she was soaring.