Marjorie Thelen - The Hieroglyphic Staircase

“Funny you used the word fury. The same word came to me. Fury. Mother Nature sounds like she is furious with us.”

Dominic smiled ruefully. “She probably is. Maybe she feels we’re a poor excuse for a human race and is trying to wipe us off the face of the earth.”

His gaze held hers. “Are you really okay?” He reached out and took her hand in his. “You aren’t scared are you?”

“Fine, I’m fine. I’m glad I’m with you.” She squeezed his hand.

“I’m glad you’re here. I can look after you and not worry about your safety.”

“I don’t mean to be a burden.”

“You’re hardly a burden, Elena.”

The moment hung between them. Dominic gently rubbed her hand, and Elena couldn’t think of anything else to say that wouldn’t take them down a dangerous road.

It was going to be a long night.

Dominic raised his head and listened. It was quiet. The eye of the storm must be over them. He looked over at Elena, lying on the cot beside his. He sat up, trying not to disturb her, but her eyes opened. She must not have been able to sleep either.

Everything not nailed down had been on the loose outside in the storm. The noise at times had been deafening. And frightening. They had spent a good deal of time trying to stop leaks around the windows and doors. Water ran down the walls. Pails and pans were scattered over the floor of the clinic to catch dribbles of water from the new roof.

“I’m going to check outside,” he said.

“What time is it?”

He peered at his watch. “Almost two in the morning.” He squeezed her hand and lingered over the warmth of it. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll check on Miguel,” she said.

He walked barefoot to the single panel door and unbolted it. It had held against the wind. Puddles of water spotted the floor and were cold against his bare feet. He could hear running water. It dripped from the overhang in front of the clinic. He stepped outside. There was no breeze. A half moon lit the landscape of what was left of Copan Ruinas. Across the street a power pole had snapped mid-way, and the line draped onto the ground. He thought he could see other figures moving in the distance. Debris was everywhere. Back inside, humidity weighed heavy in the air and covered him in a wet blanket.

Elena appeared from the back of the clinic. “Miguel is sleeping. He has to be really tired to sleep through this.”

“Or he is accustomed to chaos in his life.”

“Or he finally feels safe enough to sleep.”

“That, too.”

Dominic pulled on socks and boots.

“Would you try to call the police station on the cell phone? I’m going to walk around to see if anyone needs help and try to keep from getting electrocuted in the process. Stay with Miguel. This will be the safest place for you.”

“Okay.” She found the phone, input the number, and listened. “I’m not getting anything.” She tried again and shook her head. “The tower must be down.”

“Don’t go out,” he said, “I’ll be right back. Promise me.”

She nodded and smiled and that reassured him.

The stillness of the scene struck him first. Then the destruction. It was worse than he imagined. The flashlight revealed obstacles in his path. He picked his way through trash. He crawled under a pole leaning against a wall after he checked to make sure no electric wires went with it. Clouds scudding across the moon created a weird play of shadows.

A man stood in a doorway on the next block. Dominic hailed him.

“Are you okay?” he asked the man, who he recognized as one of the clinic volunteers named Angel.

“We’re fine for now. I don’t think we sustained any damage so far. Everyone is pretty scared.”

Dominic walked on. Power lines hung low across the street. He couldn’t advance any farther. He doubled back past Angel’s house and turned up the street before the clinic. More people were moving about. He had decided to turn around when someone shouted, calling his name.

“ Señor Dominic,” the man said, “can you help us?”

Dominic searched the roof tops for the person calling. At first he didn’t see the figure, then after another shout, he spotted Jesus, who had played in the marimba band the night of the celebration.

“A wall fell down at my neighbor’s house, and we need help. One of the family is trapped.” Jesus motioned for Dominic to come in by a door on the street.

Dominic hurried in. A man was trapped, and it took half an hour to clear the rubble and free the man’s leg. He couldn’t stand on the leg. Dominic suspected it was broken.

“Let’s try to get him to the clinic so I can brace it.”

The man shook his head. He wouldn’t leave his family. They tried to make him comfortable on a soggy couch in what was left of their living room, now half open to the sky.

“I’ll go back to the clinic to get a temporary splint for his leg and some pain killers. I’ll be back,” he said to the distraught family members. The wife blessed him. Dominic hurried away but getting back to the clinic proved harder than anticipated. More people were on the street, many he knew. Everyone had questions about other people and damage. By the time Dominic returned to the clinic, he knew he had to hurry because the next round of the hurricane was coming. The breeze was picking up.

“Elena,” he called as he stepped through the door opening. He beamed the flashlight around the room. When he didn’t find her in the main room, he walked toward the two exam rooms in the back. Maybe she was with Miguel and had fallen asleep.

“Elena?” he called. His voice echoed hollow on the bare walls.

He searched both exam rooms. The cot where Miguel had slept was empty, the blanket thrown on the floor. Maybe they had stepped out to get a view of the street. He hurried back to the front door. A breeze caught him as he crossed the main room, and he looked toward the windows in the back of the clinic. One stood open. He remembered closing them before the storm.

He shined the flashlight around the floor, the windows and into the alleyway. The door he had used to slip out the night of the party stood open. He exited and flashed the light up and down the alleyway. No sign of Elena and Miguel. He hurried down the alley to the street, dodging sodden garbage. They couldn’t have gone far. Why did they leave through the side door?

He hadn’t passed them on the way. He turned in the opposite direction on the street and started walking, shining the light in all directions. He hailed a woman he did not recognize who stood on the sidewalk.

“Have you seen a woman and a small boy come by? She is tall with dark hair. Very pretty.”

“No, señor , I have not.”

He willed the rising panic out of his heart so it could not take up residence. He couldn’t afford to give way to fear. He had to keep a clear head. Think. Where could they have gone? A horrible thought struck. They would not have left of their own accord. Elena had promised to stay. She knew the danger. She wouldn’t expose Miguel to the elements. Dominic trusted her, and his gut instinct told him that she wouldn’t have left unless someone forced her to leave.

He closed his eyes. Dominic didn’t believe in bargaining with God. But now he did. If the Almighty kept Elena and Miguel safe, he would never again forsake his calling. He needed his floundering faith to help him through this ordeal.

He knew what he had to do.

He hurried back to the clinic, searching for signs of Elena and Miguel as he went. He ducked into the open door of the clinic, sweeping the room with the flashlight, hoping they’d come back.

No one was there.

He yanked a backpack out of the metal locker where he kept emergency rations and threw in a temporary splint for the injured man and several bottles of pain killers. He crouched and felt behind the metal locker for a box and pulled it free. Inside was the pistol Connie Lascano had issued him. He scribbled a note in case Elena returned and left it under the lamp on the table in the main room. Outside the wind ruffled his hair. He knew he had precious little time before the fury returned.