Piling out of the laundry room in sock feet and nice dry clothes, we planted our asses down to dive into rich tomato bisque soup and grilled cheese sandwiches made with fat slices of homemade bread when the scanner blared to life, the tones harsh. Dahn’s eyes went round as he tuned into a call going out to the first responders to head to the Lilac Hills Home for Independent Living because water was entering the building and the elderly inside were trapped. We all stopped chewing to look at Granny’s pinched face. She had old and dear friends in the assisted living center ten miles west of us. The brief discussion between Ollie, who was out in this deluge doing what sheriffs did in a natural emergency, and Monica the dispatcher was telling. Both sounded harried.
Dispatch to Bastian County 1IA. Tooben County just called in to advise that water is on the rise and will reach the outskirts of the Sunny View Mobile Home Park within an hour. The residents of the trailer park have all been evacuated, but debris is expected to flow downstream, adding to the flooding in that area. Tribalemergency management agencies are working to clear any low-lying homes on the reservation but will send assistance as soon as possible to Sunny View. Tooben County S&R is unable to cross the Tooben Creek to assist in the evacuation of the residents in Lilac Hills. They’re also stating that all crossings need to be closed immediately near the Tooben Creek Feed Mill, as water is now over the road in that locale as well.
10-4, Dispatch. 1IA is en route. Do we know how many residents are in need of evacuation?
1IA, the total of residents is fifteen and three staff. Please be advised that we have a 911 call for a vehicle stalled in high water near the Leary Junction. Multiple persons were in the car but have been safely evacuated. The vehicle is in danger of washing downstream to block the underpass of the Little Eagle Creek.
10-4, Dispatch. Noted the previous situation. Will check as soon as we remove the residents from Lilac Hills. 2IB and I are effectively cut off from returning to Bastian Grange at the moment and are focusing on the rescue of the elderly to safety. Are there other units from Tooben County or the reservation that can assist with the outlying areas until we can reach them?
Negative, 1IA. You’re the only units available right now as all other county search and rescue are out on calls. Tribal help is forthcoming within a few hours according to Henry on the CEM council in conjunction with the mutual aid agreements between them and Bastian Grange. Monroe Falls is also pressed hard but will send help when possible.
10-4, Dispatch. Keep us advised. 1IA en route to Lilac Acres.
Baker sighed the sigh of the truly weary. “Lilac Hills is ten or so miles west of here. We can get there to assist.”
I looked at my son. Dahn sat there with an empty spoon in his hand. Now was one of those teaching moments. Did I want to go back out into the soaking rain? Hell no. Was I concerned about driving into a flooded area? Hell yes. Did I want my son to see that even in the face of fear, we sometimes had to do the right thing, even if it was scary? Double hell yes.
“I’ll go with you,” I said and shoved the last bite of my grilled cheese into my mouth.
“Me too,” Linc announced.
“Sure, yeah, me too,” Ford volunteered.
“Same,” Hanley stated firmly.
“Good men,” Baker said. “You gals stay here and get things ready for our guests. Dahn, you help the ladies and—”
“I want to help too,” Bella claimed, her chin coming up defiantly. “I’m strong and able-bodied. I can help.” We all glanced at Ford and then Linc. “Don’t look at them!” My sight flew back to Bella. “I make my own choices, not some man. I’m going. Give me five minutes to get into rain gear.”
She left her half a sandwich and soup behind to change.
“Guess she told us,” Hanley murmured while trying to inhale his soup.
“I’m so proud of you all,” Granny said as she stared at her bowl of soup and then lifted her teary gaze to us. “If Tooben Creek is over the banks then best call Ollie and tell him to bring those poor old folks here. No way they get into town until the water recedes. We got room.”
Baker nodded, left the table, and had a brief but loud conversation with the sheriff, or so I assumed since Ollie’s name was used several times. We rushed to eat as much as we could. Dahn watched with worry. I knelt beside his chair.
“It’s going to be fine. We’re just going down the road a little ways to pick up some folks who need a drier place to sleep for a day or two,” I told him, taking his hand between mine.
“That dispatcher lady said cars were washing down the creek. What if your car gets washed down the creek?” he asked so softly I could barely hear him over the hustle and bustle of men getting ready to face the elements yet again.
“It won’t. Baker knows this county like the back of his hand. He’ll lead us safely to the assisted-living building. What I need you to do is help Granny however you can. Do the running for her, and don’t let her overwork herself, okay?” He nodded. “Good man.” I kissed his head and rose. Bella thundered down the stairs in jeans, a yellow raincoat with matching yellow rubber boots, and an air of “Do not fuck with me” that would have given a bear pause.
Linc, our resident mellow grizzly, looked down at her with admiration and plunked his own hat on her blonde head. It rested on the tops of her ears. She gave him a pat on his fuzzy cheek along with a soft thanks.
“Let’s roll!” Baker yelled from the living room. I gave my son a smile of encouragement and headed out into the storm, my poncho still damp from the earlier journey. The rain had not let up. The yard was a bog as we jogged across it to our parked cars and trucks. My brothers and a wildlife photographer piled into three vehicles and then fell in line behind Baker. I wiped the rain from my nose and turned the wipers up to high.
As we crept along the soggy driveway, I took note of the diversion ditches on either side of the drive. Water was coursing down them and away from the barns and house. Someone, a clever Bastian in a few generations past, had done a smart thing to dig trenches to send water away from livestock and people who lived there. Hopefully those deep ditches—the same onesthat Dahn loved to poke about in—would continue to do their jobs.
I turned on the radio and searched for a local broadcast, but nothing was coming in. Perhaps the tiny radio station tower on the outskirts of town had been flooded out or the tower had blown down. Maybe the DJ had said to hell with this and went home to safety. Probably a wise call. Folks could listen to Randy Travis on their playlists. Noting the lack of tunes, I went back to my subscription service for something soothing. The wipers were hard-pressed to clear the windshield fast enough so driving was slow. Tiny dry creek beds were now full, some leaking out onto the roadway. Debris from trees and corn plants littered the road as we crept along, with our headlights cutting through the downpour. I kept my sight locked on the bumper of Hanley’s newish vehicle, a Subaru hatchback. The yellow bumper sticker that read WILDLIFE PHOTOGRAPHER ON BOARD—BE PREPARED FOR RANDOM STOPS was easy to see as we drove past acres of soggy cow corn. The steady rhythm of the wipers with the rush of wind pushing on the side of my SUV was an odd and sometimes unsettling combination.
We arrived at a crossroads. Hanley’s left turn signal flashed to life. I followed him around the sharp corner, my gaze darting from the road to his bumper to the muddy roads. Water churned into sluice pipes. Even with some cool jazz flowing from the speakers, I was on edge. Thankfully, within another five minutes, we turned right onto a drive lined with lilac bushes. The wind and rain had stripped a lot of the leaves from the tall shrubs. Water flowed freely under us now, about three inches or so. We pushed through the water, rounding a small curve that exposed a long, one-story building illuminated from within. The flashing lights on the top of Ollie’s Jeep rolled over the white siding, turning it blue then red then blue then red.
In the double door of the assisted living facility stood Ollie. I knew him even from this distance and blurred with sheets of rain. No one was as commanding as he was. With a wave, he waded out to greet us, motioning us to the front doors as rain pelted him on the side of the face. We pulled up in a line and exited our vehicles.
“Can’t say that I’m sad to see you all,” Ollie yelled into the wind.
“Granny says to take them to the ranch,” I shouted over Baker barking at Ford, Linc, and Bella to get inside and start helping the old folks out. “We’ll make room. Things are damp there but not flooding.”
