Jacqueline Druga - Under the Gray Skies

It was hard to believe that someone could be so meticulous about the room and have a faulty hose.

Bruce knew what he was doing. He just didn’t expect for the family pet to knock it off.

What made the scene even more devastating were the pictures and notes that the boys had made for Madison. They were waiting on her, ready to greet her.

They did so in a way unimaginable.

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry,” I tried to console Madison. It was impossible. After a few minutes she asked to be alone. It worried me and I even expressed that to her. She simply told me she wanted to say goodbye and get a few things. Some pictures, items that she knew she’d never see again otherwise.

Del and I retreated to the Humvee.

“If she does anything drastic,” Del said. “It’s her choice. I know what she’s going through.”

We filled the tank with gas, and left the Humvee running while we rested.

Eventually Madison joined us. She had a knapsack full of items. Things she didn’t share, but said she would one day. She cried a lot, it was understandable.

Repeatedly she said, “How can I even bury them? The ground is frozen. I can’t just leave them in there to rot.”

“We’ll figure something out. We will,” I said. I knew what she meant. Funerals were closure, a way to say goodbye, a finale.

I didn’t have that for my sister. I merely held her decomposing hand and left her in the rubble.

There was guilt over that, so I understood why Madison was upset about it. It was a ritual and a sign of respect.

She had a drink then, emotionally spent, she rested her head on Del’s shoulder and fell asleep.

When I saw she was sleeping, I closed my eyes and reclined back in my seat.

I don’t know how long I was out, but it wasn’t a dream that woke me. It was heat.

I was sweating.

I felt it first, then noticed the brightness against my eyelids. Panicked, I jumped up believing something was wrong with the Humvee and saw that the interior of the Humvee was illuminated by a bright orange hue.

“Del,” I called to him as my eyes shifted out the window.

He groaned then said, “Why is it so hot? Turn down the heat.”

“It’s not the car.” Then I did something I didn’t expect to, I shut off the engine. There was no need to have it running.

The fire not only lit up the entire area, but heated it as well.

Madison stood in her yard a distance from the house. She stood as if she had taken command of the situation. A silhouette against the backdrop of the flames.

I opened the door and stepped out. It wasn’t cold, the heat blasted me and I walked to her.

The entire home was engulfed. It was an inferno.

“Hey,” I said softly.

“I needed a way to say goodbye. My farewell,” she said, her eyes not leaving the house. “Was I wrong?”

“No. Not at all.”

“It was cold, Lace. The car was freezing up even with the heat on,” she said. “We would have died, too. I know it. I felt it. Now I’m not cold. Bruce died trying to keep everyone warm. Now he keeps us warm. I can feel it.”

“I do, too.”

She grabbed hold of my arm, clutched it and leaned against me. Madison didn’t move, she just watched the flames.

Like a Viking funeral, the home was Bruce’s ship and she lit it aflame. In her own way, she gave Bruce and the boys a send off she believed they deserved.

Please be alive. Please be alive. Please.

There was a point in our journey, it came about an hour and a half into our trek across Ohio, a point where I wanted to stop.

Madison bravely got back in the Humvee. She spoke very little, but her words made an impact. “You know, I knew,” she said. “I knew the second everything happened that I would never see my family again. Despite what I said, how I acted, I knew. Yet, I allowed myself, at the very end to believe they were alive. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.”

“You did see them again.” Del said. “Maybe not how you wanted it, not how it should have been, but you saw them. You are remarkable and braver than I am. I couldn’t even go in my house. You said goodbye to your family. I feel horrible that I played a part in getting your hopes up.”

“No,” Madison shook her head. “I would have felt optimistic each mile we drove and the closer we got.”

It was that point when my foot slowly depressed the brake.

“What’s wrong?” Madison asked.

“Let’s just stop. Let’s go south. I can’t do this.”

“Are you kidding me?” Madison asked. “You’ll go forward.”

“I can’t face it. I’d rather not know than see them…’

“Tough,” Madison said. “Tough. We have come this far and we will keep going until we know.”

“What if they’re…?”

“They’re not.”

“But what if…?”

“Then you’ll face it,” Madison said. “Like I did and like Del did. I believe they aren’t. What are the odds? One of us has to find their family alive.”

Oh, yeah, what were the odds? Pretty good, I believed. A simple look at our surroundings told me the odds were stacked against survival.

I began to drive again, the entire time thinking, was the weather foreboding, the cold, the snow, the ice, was it trying to stop me from going any farther? It seemed with each mile east, things worsened.

“Here’s a question,” I said softly. “This was about finding our families. This was our drive to survive. If, God forbid…”

“Stop it.” Madison snapped. “I’m serious.”

“I am too. Do we want to live? Do any of us want to go on? We would have lost everything and everyone. Do we want to keep going on in this screwed up world?”

There was silence. During it I started thinking that maybe if I could find water, I would jump in. They say that it was a peaceful way to go.

For miles no one said anything. I guess the question of, ‘Do any of us want to live?’ was on both Del and Madison’s mind.

Finally, Madison spoke up. “Yes. Yes. I do. Bruce and my boys died trying to live for me. The least I could do is try to stay alive for them.”

She was right.

If my family was still at my house, then they, like Bruce were waiting on me. Trying to survive. I owed it to them to keep going.

I would know soon. The truth of their fate was only a mere few hours away.

Home.

At least close to it.

I absolutely dreaded when we had to drive north, even something as simple as forty miles. I just didn’t know what was ahead.

My home town was across the river from Steubenville, Ohio. Steubenville was barren, frozen and desolate. Flyers were posted everywhere, but they too were frozen. I thought and believed that a major northern exodus was successful. After all we hadn’t seen any cars on the road as we went north.

Then once in Steubenville we realized why.

The cold hit so fast, people just didn’t have time to get out.

Many that did try, met their fate on the Memorial Veteran’s bridge. A huge, colossal architectural wonder of Ohio. A cable-stayed bridge with triangular pylons.

It had collapsed, the cold along with the abundance of cars, snapped the bridge and sent it into the frozen river.

Cars that had fallen became integrated into the ice creating a frozen cemetery.

There was one bridge that hadn’t collapsed. We stopped before crossing it. Going across that river was the only way to get to my house. My home was a mile at the most from that bridge.

We paused there for the longest time. It was like walking on ice. We were one vehicle. I wanted to just drive as fast I could, but the surface was slick.