Эбби Луби - Nuclear Romance

It was every bit a real-life thriller. Lou put the reader right at the scene. He captured the hysteria of the failed evacuation, drivers immobilized on the road for over eighteen hours, the mob scene at the schools, the drama of Mrs. Aron’s labor and delivery in the backseat of a car. All under the fear of an airborne radioactive plume. To Owen’s delight, Lou scooped all other news sources with a vivid account of the frantic control room inside the plant, with information quoted from an anonymous source.

The subhead of Lou’s story read “Meltdown narrowly avoided.” Owen had the story start on the front page and continue on page two. Page three was a spread of pictures that was unprecedented for the paper. By midmorning, the Daily Suburban had sold out.

Lou was the man of the hour. Overnight the sportswriter assumed the lofty role of “investigative and environmental reporter.” Compliments from colleagues and staff went to his head. He sat at his desk rereading his story, noting that Owen hadn’t changed a word—an editor’s ultimate compliment.

Exhausted workers at the plant barely managed to avoid a meltdown. Along with the others, Larry worked all night, driven by mounting fear. It took hours to safely shut down the reactor and allow the suited-up workers get inside to fix the pipe and clean up the debris.

What happened to the plume depended on who you talked to. Some experts contended that the strong westerly winds swept the radiation out to the ocean. Others claimed the release reached a high altitude and dissipated altogether. It was impossible for doctors to predict if the radiation would affect future cancer rates or other serious illnesses. They could point to Chernobyl as the worst case scenario.

Westchester and the communities within miles of the plant were still in shock, a shock that reverberated to New York City. Radio and TV talk-show hosts cashed in on the panic. Did anyone really know if there was lingering radiation and what the long-term effects would be? Could it happen again? Would the winds carry radioactivity south, forcing the evacuation of over eight million people? Could they even safely evacuate? It was a doomsday scenario the media would milk forever.

ALLPower and the NRC were circling their wagons. It was a big break for the anti-nuke movement, and politicians would start demanding answers. ALLPower had to play it right or it could be the demise of the entire industry. The key was to sell the accident as a rare, one-time incident. And time was on their side. It took years to see if radioactive exposure resulted in any kind of cancer or leukemia.

Schools were closed for several days, even though the county was urging school administrators to open as soon as possible and get back to a normal routine. But it would take a while to revamp. Diana’s building wasn’t the only one that was ransacked by angry parents. It took over twelve hours for some parents to be reunited with their kids. Like Jen, many walked miles to their kids’ school. Others eventually found the youngsters sitting on a bus just a mile or two from their school, stuck in traffic. Everyone was shaken, scared, and trying to make sense of the panic.

The very next day after the accident Diana ventured into school to survey the damage. The heavy glass front door had been broken off its hinges, and her office looked like a construction site. The janitor nailed a piece of plywood over the large broken window, a shelf was knocked over, and there was debris covering her desk. What a mess. She didn’t know where to begin, so she picked up her cell phone.

Lou was sitting smugly at his desk when his phone rang. It was Diana.

“Diana? Are you okay? Did you survive the panic?”

“Yes. Barely. I’m a little ruffled here at school. It’s a real deluge. By the way, congratulations on a great story. ALLPower must be seething.”

“We’ll see. Nothing’s come down from the powers that be here at the paper. What’s it like at school?”

She ran through the film-strip version of the damages.

“Miraculously the turtle is still alive.”

His voice dropped down. “You home tonight?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You have no idea how much you turn me on, Ms. Chase. I’ve been writing about us, about you. I’ve even waxed poetic about how we move—you’re my muse, you know.”

“So, you might need more inspiration?”

“Inspire me all you want. Later then?”

“Can’t wait.”

Lou had hoped Diana had forgotten about their little talk about a threesome. The message from her was clear: she wasn’t interested. Perhaps he would try to talk to her again, when they were more intimate and there was more trust.

For Diana, the day of panic tapped her activist agenda. A plan was brewing. Now was the time to organize, while the fear was still real. She plotted a systematic outreach to people, organizations, politicians. It would be what she’d always done, this time on a bigger scale. There would be meetings, meetings, and more meetings. It was now or never for the big push to close down that nasty plant, once and for all. She got on the Internet and blasted out e-mails. Let the battle against ALLPower and the nuclear industry begin.

Then she called Jen. She wanted to make sure she and Ricky were okay. And what of Mrs. Aron?

“Jen? Are you okay?”

“Yes. We’re both fine. We finally got home sometime in the middle of the night. Ricky was at Ralph’s house, and he had dinner for me. Such a nice guy.”

“Good to hear. And Mrs. Aron?”

“Guess what? She had the baby in my car ! She finally got to the hospital, and she and the baby seem to be doing okay. Well… they think the baby is okay. They are keeping her for a few tests just to make sure.”

“Make sure…?”

“She wasn’t exposed… to… you know—radiation.”

Jen vividly recalled the birth, how the young teacher’s labor became intense, and they knew she would never make it to the hospital. Jen took direction from the nurse who seemed to know what she was doing.

“You got a pillow by any chance? It’s for under her hips.”

“I’ll check.”

Luckily, there was a small pillow in the trunk. Just as she was about to close it, she saw the edge of Kaylee’s orange beach towel in the far corner. How could she have missed that? Was it still contaminated? She dismissed the worry. It was her daughter saying hello from heaven.

Jen offered to support the teacher’s back as the nurse guided her to breathe, to push, and breathe again. It was a timeless labor, and when the teacher gave the final push, Jen was oblivious to the cars inching forward, horns honking. For that moment, there were a bunch of reasons to celebrate. The birth was truly a miracle. Secretly, Jen hoped that a piece of Kaylee’s soul had woven itself into the new child.

“They’re smart to check for radiation,” Diana said to her on the phone. “Listen Jen, I need your help. Would you be a dear and come into school for a bit and help me clean up?”

“You’re in school? It must be a mess! I suppose I could come over, but can I bring Ricky along? He’s still rattled. Actually we’re both a little clingy with each other.”

“I guess. He’d have to be careful, though. Bring work gloves.”

Diana had an ulterior motive to talk to Jen, and it had to be in person.

When she arrived, Jen took one look at where the large window had been.

“Oh my God! What happened?”

“A hysterical parent had the bright idea to create a new entryway. Doesn’t quite fit in with my sense of decor.”

Ricky found a seat in the front and pulled out his Game Boy. Diana motioned Jen to her desk.

“We’re organizing a bunch of meetings because the time is right to close the plant. Do you want to be involved? You could be a key person,” Diana said to her, treading carefully.