The Benefactor Page 22

  Keala ran to Zeke, grabbed his arm, and buried her face in his chest sobbing, "I didn't even fire my gun! I didn't ... "

  With disbelief and horror, Zeke and Keala watched the pink cloud drift slowly toward them.

  Zeke felt her trembling against him. He tried to stand firm but took a few steps back in momentary shock as he looked for a drone in the golder sheet of light spilling over the Sapphire Mountains to the east. He spotted it orbiting overhead, so high that it's engine sound could not be heard.

  Keala's anguish brought his thoughts back to earth. "Keala, it's okay. It's okay." He squeezed her.

  Zeke analyzed the situation. This is the first time the Benefactor has shown a menacing side, he thought. Is this what the future holds for us? I need to get back to the present. I must get Keala back to the Denton estate and away from danger from above.

  As Keala's crying slowed, she looked up to Zeke's eyes. “I smell copper, maybe iron.”

  Zeke said without hesitation, “You smell blood!”

  “I didn’t shoot, Zeke," she said again. "I was about to ... ." Keala slowly pulled away from him and looked back toward the tower. She wished she hadn't. The circular reddish stain in the snow and the few lumps of body parts that used to be Sondra were grim reminders of the horror of the incident and awesome power of the Benefactor.

  Keala composed herself and went into crew-supervisor mode, "Zeke, don’t torture yourself by approaching the body or what’s left of it. My guess is that Sondra wanted to be alone in the barn to make a bomb with the fertilizer. Let’s go back to the house. I’ll tell Brock, then the group. It should be me. Where Sondra is concerned, he doesn’t trust you.”

  After that, they silently trudged back to the Denton Ranch. Halfway back, Zeke lamented, “Susan went up to talk to her last night after Sondra's outbursts. Despite Susan’s persistence, Sondra refused any help at all. I know ... I’m trying to absolve myself from guilt."

  "Zeke, I, for one, didn't see this coming. I don't know how you would. Sondra making a bomb, go figure!"

  "She was a chemical engineer. She had the degree from ASU — Arizona State. She was no dummy."

  Outside the house and alone with Keala, Brock showed no emotion when he heard the news. He just said, “That crazy bitch!”

  Keala: “Anything I can do for you, Brock?”

  Brock spoke dispassionately, “I wonder, is breakfast ready? Anyone ever notice that Sondra was happy angry?” He meant happy being angry Keala wrote Brock’s response off to shock.

  Zeke broke the news to everyone else. No one seemed really surprised. The group knew Sondra was a troubled soul. Jed and John volunteered to recover what they could of the body.

  Zeke thanked them. “Very good of you two, but we’re going to need to get Marsh out there first.” He struggled to sound in control. He felt his group might be losing its bearings. First, the loose cannons break completely free on the deck … . He didn’t get to complete his inner discourse.

  “Marsh’s at the gate,” Lee shouted. “Surprise, surprise!” he tagged on sarcastically. “I’ll let him in.”

  *****

  Marsh greeted the group by the fireplace. “Lee told me what happened. I’m here already because I got a text from the Benefactor before dawn to get over here to stop Sondra. Brock, let me express my sincerest condolences. Everyone else, I do the same to you. It is extremely sad to lose someone under these circumstances …”

  Brock: “You don’t give a damn. You’re a stooge for this Benefactor — the Bastard as Sondra called him.”

  Marsh maintained his bearing, “Brock, if there is anything I can do …”

  Before Brock delivered another insult, Zeke whisked him into the kitchen.

  When a calmer Brock emerged from the kitchen, Marsh said, “Brock, I know this is ill-timed, but I have to ask. Can you be ready to travel? Someone in one of my other groups likely has a need for an appendectomy. You're my only surgeon.”

  “Hell, no! You and the Bastard find someone else. I’m out!” Brock turned his face away from Marsh to avoid any debate.

  While the group understood Brock was grieving, their eyes showed their disappointment that a surgeon would not rise to the occasion of a fellow human’s medical needs. It was also somewhat transparent that Brock, who seemed at best ambivalent about his wife’s death, was using that tragedy to avoid work.

  Everyone heard the bing of Marsh’s cell phone. Marsh glanced at the text. He looked up. Then he read the message again. “Folks,” he said, “you're electricity is cancelled until further notice.”

  The letdown in mood was palpable. Without Sondra to protest everything, there was silence and acceptance.

  Zeke sought an immediate remedy in the form of action. “Okay, guys, in the old world we would have stood down for mourning the loss of Sondra. Sorry, we can't do that now. Let’s grab a quick breakfast. Then let’s get going on gathering wood and bringing ice in to melt. Brock, if you want to sit this one out, that’s fine.”

  Keala brushed against Zeke, “Well done!”

  Zeke thanked Keala with a pat on the shoulder. He addressed the group, “You all go ahead and eat. I’ll take Marsh out to the cell phone tower.”

  *****

  It turned out there was nothing left of Sondra’s body. Wild animals had cleaned up her remains. Marsh pointed to the coyote tracks and hundreds of round holes in the snow. “You're right, Zeke, death from above.”

  Back at the house, Marsh begged off coffee, “I wish I could stay, but I’ve got that pressing matter.”

  As Zeke walked Marsh to the gate, he said, “What will you do about the appendix case?”

  “I’ve got a pharmacist in one of my groups — nearest I can come to a medical specialist. The travel time from another area may be prohibitive. Again, sorry for your loss here, Zeke. It’s never easy to lose someone.”

  Marsh went on, “The Benefactor said he put me on your phone’s call list. Call me when Brock changes his mind.”

  Zeke wondered when and how his call list got updated. He certainly didn’t do it. He also noted Marsh’s earlier words, another area. How many were there? Did they extend throughout the whole world in patchwork form?

  *****

  At the compound, Marsh put his arm around Jenny. “You know, that was one fine shot this morning, taking out Sondra’s hand with the lit match.”

  “I appreciate that, Marsh, but thanks to you for getting me off the night vision goggles well before you took yours off. That adjustment time was critical. Your spotting for me on the shot was just right. You picked up on the wind in the clearing. I thought the shot would save her life, but death-from-above prevailed.”

  “Surprised me, too. In a way, I understand the Benefactor. If that cell phone tower was taken out, where would we be? His communication with us and anyone else in the valley would be nil. It would take an immense amount of time and effort to reconstruct it, all things considered. We remain just above subsistence level. You can’t even call our efforts to rebuild civilization up-and-coming. ”

  “More like down-and-out, Marsh. What about the appendix patient?”

  “I’ll pick up the pharmacist tonight with the Ford truck and get him in position.”

  “Marsh, I want to come with you. I don’t want you out there by yourself.”

  “Appreciate that. Play that as it comes, Jenny. Meanwhile, I think Brock will come around.”

  “Do you really think he will, Marsh?”

  “I do. Peer pressure is a powerful thing — even on an arrogant SOB like Brock. Group punishment is an art. I read somewhere future-General Chuck Yeager used it early in his Air Force career in Germany to keep the men in his command in line. Apparently, the Benefactor understands how to use that motivation.

  I didn’t have to explain the connection between Brock’s refusal to do the appendectomy and the loss of their electricity at Denton. Everyone knew.”

  “Don’t you think the group might also conclude Sondra’s defiance might have had
something to do with the loss of electricity?”

  “I do, Jenny. In any case, the Denton group got the message. Yeager, test pilot and a smart man!”

  “Let me get this straight, in addition to your mastery of many skills, you want to be a test pilot, Marsh?”

  “I’ve only got the testy part down so far, dear.” Marsh disagreed with the premise of self-effacing humor, but he knew it was endearing with the rest of mankind — and at least one woman.

  *****

  Supper at the Denton Ranch was somber. No one really missed Sondra, but everyone had a fresh appreciation of how fragile life was. And all missed the two-hour gift of electricity that shortened chores and brightened spirits. Now there was no hope of its restoration.

  Brock’s eyes darted around the table, never fixing on anyone in particular. He could tell he was being shunned. He heard faint echoes in his memory of the practice. He remembered reading stories of how “silencing” at West Point had driven strong-willed cadets to resign. Somewhere in our survival genes, each of us knows shunning is an existential threat, he thought. How long can I hold out?

  “So I guess we’ll need to be gathering extra wood again tomorrow to keep the outside fire going,” John said, glancing at Brock out of the corner of his eye. He noticed the collective unconsciousness had everyone else behaving the same way. Without any verbal pre-coordination, each avoided looking directly at the doctor.

  Karen: “And we’ll need more ice to replace the water we could have gotten from the pump — if the electricity were on.” She shot a sideways look at Brock. She was visibly uncomfortable with the shunner role popping up from her DNA, a genetic social survival gift from her ancestors. Her modern sensibilities had been no match for that instinct.

  Anne joined in, “Refresh me, what happened with the work-around for getting water, the bike pump to bring up water from the well?” She turned quickly to look at Brock for a seventieth of a second, then back to the group.

  Jed answered, “Anne, we’re struggling with getting a good seal. So far we haven’t figured out how to do that with the limited materials we have.” He, too, shot a quick glance at Brock.

  And so it went. No one spoke to Brock. He was not even wished a good night.

  Later upstairs, Zeke and Keala settled under the covers of their bed. Zeke popped back up and started dressing. “Keala, I’ve got to talk with Brock. We could be at a tipping point here at Denton.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Not really,” he laughed with his leader hat off. “I’ll give it a whopping 51% chance of success. Back soon!”

  *****

  Brock followed Zeke downstairs. Both were dressed for the even-colder outdoors.

  Zeke acknowledged Jed, who had the first shift of night fireguard duty. “Jed, Brock and I are headed out on the deck. How’s the overtime treating you?”

  “I don’t know how I’m going to spend all the cash I’m making.”

  “Same here, Jed. We’ll stoke the outside fire for you.”

  “Appreciate it, Zeke; just so it doesn’t come out of my pay. I’ll be out soon with coffee cups for you and Brock. Just made a fresh pot out on the grill. Black or macchiatto?” he joked. He headed for the kitchen to get cups.

  Zeke tried to make small talk until Jed brought the coffee cups. When Jed went back inside, Zeke began, “Brock, it must be really hard for you to have lost so much.” That opening was enough to open the gates.

  Brock sipped his coffee and sighed, “It is. I was at the top of my game. Richest working man in the state, debutante wife, a palatial estate on forty prime acres, and five premium cars. Rotarian Man of the Year, My own Gulfstream jet. Beach house on Maui and a condo at Vail. Offshore bank accounts. Hell, I even had my own Little League team. Well, I sponsored one. Then, New Year's Eve! Now, I have none of that, not even the carping wife. It was a long fall. I don’t know whether I can ever recover. It’s too much … .”

  Zeke: “That’s a lot to lose — much more than most.” He wanted to stay empathetic, so he did not bring up how much Cody had lost.

  Brock took another swallow of hot coffee. “You lost a lot, too. You don’t seem to be dragged down by it, though. Just between us, what’s your secret?”

  “I spend a lot more time in the present than I used to, Brock. A whole lot of what I taught in my job was planning. Well, now I don’t usually plan past tomorrow. As for the past, I’ve come to realize I can’t change it. In the vernacular of my profession, sunk costs! It doesn’t help me a bit to dwell on what I’ve lost. I see I have to move on now, in the present. But we’re all different, aren’t we?” He purposely left off what great support he got from Keala. Sondra was never a Keala, and Sondra was now gone.

  “I apologize to you, Brock for not talking to you one-on-one before. I should have got to know you sooner. You have a lot to offer the world. I envy your healing skills and talents.”

  “Well, Zeke, I’m out of coffee and getting cold. Good talk!” Brock shook Zeke’s hand.

  Zeke wondered whether he moved the mountain — or whether he was just doing isometric exercises against Everest.

  *****

  Upstairs, Keala heard Zeke come through the bedroom door. She sat up. “Zeke, how did it go?”

  Sitting on the bed, Zeke answered. “We’ll see. I chose to mostly listen. No lecturing. No accusations. Unfortunately, not much dialogue. The indirect approach. One level deeper than any of our other exchanges, to the plus side.”

  Before Keala spoke, there was a knock on the door. Visits after heading off to bed were almost unheard of. In a surprised voice, Zeke managed a dry-mouthed, “What is it?”

  Zeke recognized Brock’s weak, penitent voice: “I’ll do it. I’ll do the operation. See you at breakfast.”

  Zeke: “Thanks, Brock. Good night!”

  Keala watched Zeke text Marsh immediately. She thought Marsh would be at the gate first thing in the morning. She was wrong.

  *****

  An hour later, Zeke’s cell announced a text:

  At the gate. Get Brock. Marsh

  When Zeke knocked lightly on Brock’s door, he heard the doctor pacing on the oakwood floor. Through the door, Brock said, “I’m up and ready to go whenever. I couldn’t sleep.”

  Zeke went back to tell Keala he had an inspiration. He added, “I’ll show up with my rifle ready to go with Brock. I think Marsh will buy it.”

  “The assumptive close?” Keala laughed. “You sly devil.”

  “The assumptive close, indeed!” Zeke kissed her goodbye.

  Intuitive Keala asked, “Do you think we’ll ever see Brock again?”

  “I doubt it,” Zeke answered. “I think we have the same premonition.” Usually left-brained, he was amazed at how instinct had led them both to the same question.

  Marsh sat in the Ford truck outside the gate wearing night vision goggles. He kept the Ford running for warmth. Zeke and Brock let themselves out of the Denton house and headed for the gate.

  Zeke enthusiastically greeted Marsh outside the gate, "Marsh, we're both ready to go! Let's roll!"

  Through his cranked down window, Marsh puffed out words in the cold, “I brought some more material for blackout curtains. I’ve got a watertight seal on the plastic around the material. It’s in the truck bed. Since you're both coming, can we just leave it by the gate?”

  “They’ll find it. Figured you could use some company, Marsh,” Zeke said.

  “Can’t promise we’ll be back anytime soon, Zeke.”

  “I need a vacation,” Zeke joked.

  Marsh let the humor slide. “Brock, why don’t you get in back.” It was not a question. “You can rest in the sleeping bag. There’s also a tarp for warmth and to keep the precip off.”

  Inside the cab, Marsh handed Zeke night vision goggles. “Zeke, glad you're armed. You know, you didn’t have to come. I plan to return Brock to you.” Marsh's conscience winced at telling Zeke that last lie.

  “Marsh, we’re in this
together. I didn’t think Brock would be able to provide you with enough protection. I’m here to help.”

  “Good to have you, partner!”

  Zeke relished the small victory in a sea of many disappointments.

  January 17

  Just after he awoke, John’s cell phone pinged. There was welcome news in the text:

  Expect electricity at 1 PM. Plan accordingly. The Benefactor

  John conveyed the happy news at breakfast. He added, “I don’t understand it. I’m sure I had turned my cell phone off after charging it the day before yesterday.”

  Lee: “One of many mysteries!”

  Chores went on. The crew gathered wood and carried ice in buckets for a while. Anticipating electricity to provide significant clean water, they devoted the second half of the morning to making more blackout curtains. Before lunch, Karen insisted on saying a blessing for Sondra, who seemed a distant memory. She asked for forgiveness for her own bad thoughts about Sondra and shunning Brock.

  At 1 PM, the lights came on. All cheered. To everyone’s surprise, the power stayed on until 4 PM.

  When the lights went out, all were grateful for the extra hour of electricity.

  “A lagniappe!” Susan exclaimed. She saw puzzled looks around her. “You know, it’s something unexpectedly given. It inspires gratitude.” If I can inject a little more gratitude with an arcane word to trigger it, I will, she thought.

  “Lagniappe, eh? My watch says 3 PM,” Jed joked. It became a standing joke. Throughout the day, people would ask Jed the time. He always had the same reply: “3 PM.” It reinforced the effect of the lagniappe of getting electricity past 3:00.

  *****

  At a third site with ten residents, Brock finished removing the electrician’s appendix. He spoke to Marsh, “Successful operation. Patient’s doing well. My instruments, the anesthetic, the antibiotics — all state-of-the-art …”