Emily, Harry and Jack and an Earthquake. part 4

Part 4

Harry didn’t know what he was going to come home to. It had taken him an agonising ninety minutes to get from the gym, collect kids from two schools and get home, covering an overall distance of roughly fifteen kilometres. Emily had been right though. The schools had stood up quite well. Freaking out teachers trying to do the right thing had held him up. Jayden and Wilson were corralled in the middle of the playing field with the rest of their classmates. A teacher was stationed at a desk and anyone leaving was supposed to sign out at the desk with the parent/guardian collecting them. All well and good. The problem was that Kathleen should have been there too and she wasn’t.

Once that was sorted it had taken him and the boys nearly half an hour to get to the primary school along with every other panicked parent in the suburb. With flooding, liquefaction and torn tarmac there was barely one lane passable on the main road the school was on. He let Wilson out of the car and sent him running ahead, hoping that he’d be able to collect the girls and come back. That hadn’t worked of course. Jenny’s school had an even more stringent sign out system than the high school. Harry ended up driving into someone’s front yard and running down to the school himself.

It seemed to take forever before he had them all and could head home. Jenny was pale and freaked out by the quake. Her school had already had quite a bit of damage from the first one and her teacher had gone into a screaming panic when it struck. The three older kids however were quite excited by all the drama. They had their phones, thumbs texting frantically and seemed to know more about the destruction of the city centre than he did. He didn’t tell them that Jack had gone to town.

He’d given his phone to Jayden who’d done a mass text of all their gym staff and friends in the city simply asking “Ok?” His phone was now continuously bleeping. Jayden checked the messages and passed them on.

Finally coming up their long drive he was relieved to see the house still standing and looking perfectly normal. Emily had said the kitchen wasn’t safe. He really hadn’t known if the house would be standing or not. They’d passed other houses that weren’t. Harry hit the automatic garage door opener as the phone beeped again. ‘Jack,’ Jayden shouted as he looked at the phone. So maybe Jayden had picked up on Harry’s concern. He felt overwhelming relief, a great weight lifting off his chest. Then he had to hit the brakes when he realised the door had only risen a few centimetres and then stuck. ‘What’s he say?’

Jayden sounded confused. ‘Coffee? What?’

‘Give it here?’ Harry grabbed for the phone as everyone clambered out of the car. The message didn’t make sense. “Coffee L8”.  ‘What’s he on about?’

The boys had grabbed the garage door and were trying to push it up but it wasn’t going. Kathleen grabbed Harry’s keys from the ignition and tried the front door. She shoved it hard. ‘It’s stuck.’ They all streamed around to the back.

The back yard was a surprise. Liquefaction had come up through the patio and in several places across the lawn leaving grey greasy mounds. It had flowed right into the dining room through the open sliding doors but at least they could get in.

‘Emily.’ The kitchen was trashed but the house seemed sound.

‘Mum.’ Everyone was shouting.

Harry’s phone bleeped again. Message from Jack. He fumbled to open the message only to stare at it in confusion. The message was the same as before. “Coffee L8”. ‘What the fuck does that mean?’ The feeling of dread settled back in his chest. Jack wasn’t sending nonsense, not at a time like this. He stopped long enough to text back, “whr r u ru ok”. Doing that meant that by the time he got to Sarah’s room, following the sound effects, he found Emily and all the children balled up in a semi hysterical huddle. They were all of them on their knees on the floor. He pulled the baby out of the crowd and passed her to Kathleen before fighting his own way in and taking Emily in his arms. She groaned as he grabbed her, arching back and crying out. Her protruding belly pressed against him and he started in surprise as he felt it go rock hard against him. The kids backed away nonplussed as she screamed.

The spasm seemed to last forever as he held her and tried to think of what to do. It was obvious that the pain was beyond what she could breathe through. Her attempt at panting sounded more like a gas burner as she forced air through her nose and teeth. He was inordinately pleased that he’d seen her in labour with Sarah because otherwise he would have been terrified. He was still pretty scared but at least he knew this was normal. Then he felt her belly soften and she collapsed against him puffed and limp.

‘Hey,’ he said gently, placing a kiss on her forehead. ‘How you doing? How far apart?’

Emily nuzzled against him tiredly. ‘Getting closer. Haven’t timed them recently.’ She looked up and grinned at the appalled circle of teenagers. ‘It’s okay guys. I’m having the baby and it hurts. But it’s okay.’ Harry couldn’t believe her instinct to care for everyone else, even in the middle of all of this. ‘Having babies hurts.’ He hugged her tight and buried his face in her tangled hair.

‘What do we need to do Mum?’ Jayden’s voice cracked.

‘Yeah, you know,’ Wilson piped up, ‘aren’t we supposed to boil water or something?’

Harry tried to pull himself together. He’d just spotted the TV over Emily’s shoulder and the sight of the destruction was distracting. God Jack could be in the middle of that. ‘Ah. Boiling water. Actually that’s a good idea. Get out the big pots and boil water. We’ll need it for drinking. The tap water won’t be safe.’

‘Just like last time,’ Jayden agreed.

‘Yes, three minutes, just like last time. And while you’re at it, can you two have a go at getting the kitchen cleared up. Bring the rubbish bin in and just chuck anything that’s wrecked. See if you can shovel out the sand too.’ That should keep them occupied for several hours and save them from seeing Emily in pain. They didn’t need to see that.

He turned back to his wife. ‘Have you got hold of Marnie?’

‘She’s trying to come. The bridges are out so she’s having to come around the long way. She should be here soon.’

Harry thought about how long it had taken him to travel a much shorter distance but kept his concerns to himself. ‘Have you spoken to her?’

Emily shook her head. ‘Text. Landlines work but you can’t call to cell phones. Texts work sometimes. She says I’m a healthy woman who’s already had two normal deliveries so she doesn’t expect any problems and not to worry.’ She passed over her phone and Harry scrolled through the messages from the midwife. Every message said “Don’t Panic” in it somewhere. He was resisting the urge to panic and collapse completely so he didn’t find Marnie’s advice particularly helpful. Emily gasped and tightened her grip on his arm as the next contraction arrived. They really weren’t very far apart. Panic seemed like a bloody good idea right now because it looked like he and the kids were going to be delivering this baby.

‘Oh god.’ Emily was crying. ‘It hurts.’

He kissed her. ‘I know baby.’ He held her through the contraction then stood up carefully when it ended. ‘Come on. Let’s go do this on our bed. You’ll be more comfortable. Kathleen, give us a hand.’ They helped Emily to her feet.

He tried to think of what else needed to be done. ‘Jenny, you’re in charge of Sarah okay. Keep her out of the kitchen until the guys have made it safe. Get her something to eat at her tea time. Can you do that?’

Jenny clutched her little sister, her eyes round and scared. ‘I can do that,’ she whispered.

Weakly Emily smiled at her. ‘It’s all right sweetheart. Really. I’ll be okay.’

‘Where’s Daddy?’ the little girl asked quietly.

Emily, Harry and Jack and an Earthquake. part 3

Part 3

Emily peeled the mud soaked nappy off Sarah and dropped it on the floor with a plop. She could hear the breathless voice of the TV announcer and it took her a moment to work out what was wrong with that. The radio had been on and now it wasn’t. The radio itself was still in its cabinet in the lounge and the lights were still going. She looked at the footage on the TV of the devastation in the city centre and realised that the building housing the radio station was in the city, it may well be one of those destroyed. Shivering with horror at the thought that the voice she was listening to, only minutes ago could be silenced, could be dead, she collected Sarah in her arms. The little girl automatically wrapped her legs around her and Emily was glad of her warm solid weight. ‘You’re getting to be such a big girl,’ she crooned, enjoying the normality of cuddling her daughter. Her back didn’t feel up to it but she wasn’t letting the baby go. ‘Come on. Let’s go to your room and find another nappy.’ They needed to be somewhere where Sarah would be safe, even if Emily herself was incapacitated.

They’d just made the hallway when she felt the pain starting and had to put Sarah down. ‘Go on love,’ she gasped. ‘Race you to your bedroom.’

Sarah looked up anxiously as Emily doubled up, leaning against the wall. She made shooing notions with her hands, biting back the urge to cry out. Sarah was scared enough already. Sarah plopped onto her bottom and didn’t move. Emily panted as the contraction turned her abdomen rock solid. The pain started to ease and as she straightened up she felt a sudden rush of fluid down her legs. ‘Oh great.’ Her nostrils twitched at the warm fecund smell. ‘Well at least we’re not too worried about ruining the carpet right now.’ Her waters breaking meant she really was in established labour though. ‘Brilliant timing.’ She hitched back the sob that nearly broke from her. She couldn’t give in to it now.

When she collected herself she realised there was a crack in the wall. It ran all the way up the wall and across the ceiling. They’d had virtually no damage in the September quake. Now it seemed this one had broken the house. It wasn’t falling down though thank goodness.

Sarah’s room seemed completely unscathed. Thankfully Emily left her on the floor and raced back to the lounge for the phone and as an afterthought, her handbag with her mobile and her list of phone numbers. She was moving really awkwardly now and it wasn’t just because her legs were wet and sticky. She could feel the baby’s head, hard and solid in her pelvis, forcing her bones apart. The next contraction really hurt. Alone she let herself scream.

Hurrying as best she could she stripped off her wet things and after a moment’s thought pulled off her top as well and replaced it with a nightie. She’d have loved a shower but this really wasn’t the right time for that even if the water still worked. She couldn’t afford the time to find out. She grabbed a towel and wiped her lower half down and then grabbed another pile of towels from the cupboard and went back to Sarah’s room.

Sarah was battering against the door trying to get out and protesting extremely vocally about being locked in.

After waiting out another contraction Emily finally tried to phone the midwife. A call to her mobile didn’t connect. In desperation she fumbled through her handbag to find the card the woman had given her on her first visit. It had her home number. Hardly daring to hope she dialled the number. It was answered by a man. The man was her son. His Mum had been coming home from a call. He didn’t know where exactly that she was but she had texted to say she was okay. Emily felt an overwhelming relief. That meant that she would be okay.

Texting. Emily hadn’t thought of that.

It took her ages to compose the text. She seemed to be lacking the ability to co ordinate her brain and her fingers. “In labour, pls come. Emily Jones.” Her body’s whole focus wanted to be on giving birth, but she couldn’t stop and do that. Not quite yet. She remembered this from her other labours, the way her whole being became totally focused on giving birth. It was quite zen like, quite amazing and looking back, she’d actually enjoyed that part of it, before things had become too intense. Now though, she still had things to do.

After the text to the midwife she sent one to Jack, “Ok??” She managed to hold Sarah down enough to get another nappy on her. Sarah’s room had been the spare room and office up until only a couple of months ago. There was still a cheap old television on the floor of the wardrobe. She managed to drag it out but decided against lifting it up on to any of the dressers. It was safer on the floor. She had to shift furniture to lead the power cord to the plug and attach the aerial cord and by the time she’d finished she was wondering if it was worth the trouble. It was the thought that she might see Jack on the television footage that helped her do it. She had to know he was alright.

The phone beeped.

Emily flung herself across to where she’d left it on the bed. Marnie. The midwife. ‘Thank god.’ She fumbled to open the message. “Don’t Panic,” she read. Emily burst out laughing. “Stay put,” were the next words. “Pls confirm. Are you at home? Are you alone? How long in labour? Time between contractions? I will come to you.” Emily’s amusement stayed with her. That was the most succinct Marnie had ever been. She tended to rattle on and on and on and it drove her nuts to be around her longer than the 15 to 20 minutes that their appointments usually took. But she also made Emily feel safe and cared for. Other than her eyebrows rising to her hairline when she realised that Emily had two male partners and that either could be the father, she had passed no negative judgements on their domestic arrangements. For that alone Emily would have hired her. The midwife she’d had for Sarah’s birth had not been nearly so easy to get along with.

She didn’t want to lie down but she did need to rest. After a moment’s thought she piled the pillows up on the bed and leaned across it, on her feet but her upper body supported. It eased her aching back. ‘Hurry up and come home Harry.’ She tapped out her reply to Marnie as the horrific images on the TV continued. She couldn’t look away. A dishevelled lady reporter was trying to explain that the phones weren’t working and hundreds, herself included didn’t know if their families, their children were all right. Someone else asked people nationwide to use phones only in emergency situations to reduce the overloading. There were pictures of bloodied people being helped from ruined buildings. People in business clothes, dirty and bloody themselves assisting others, doing first aid. She had to keep watching in case one of them was Jack.

On the floor Sarah scolded her new baby dolly and spread books and toys around the room in a temper. She latched onto Emily’s leg and yanked, telling her off for not picking her up. Emily’s contractions were about three to four minutes apart.

The phone beeped. Marnie again. “Bridge out. Still coming. Don’t panic.”

The horrifyingly familiar sound of a train approaching morphed into a wild jolting shake knocking Emily face first into the pillows as her feet slipped. She struggled to breathe as another contraction wrapped her in its grip. ‘No,’ she yelled. ‘Ow, damn. No.’ The whole house rattled and shook. Terrified the roof was going to fall she slid to the floor, head against the bed, pulling Sarah in too, even as the pain of the contraction paralysed her.  Sarah was shrieking in terror. ‘Oh god,’ Emily moaned into her hair. ‘Oh god, I can’t do this.’

Emily, Harry and Jack and an Earthquake. part 2

The story continues.


Part 2

Harry’s was pretty sure he was in shock. The baby was coming and Emily said the city was destroyed. The gym was in chaos, the building itself broken and its contents tossed together in a jumble. He had been helping people injured by flying weights, machines and broken glass when Emily rang. People were cut and bruised but there was only one serious injury, Steven, the instructor on duty in the main gym who had been knocked out and whose leg now bent the wrong way.

It felt like a betrayal to leave him even though there was nothing he could do for him. Clients in the gym had included a doctor and an off duty paramedic who had instantly come to the boy’s aid. The side door of the building was the only way out, the front door blocked with rubble, the back apparently jammed closed. Aisha, the young instructor who’d been taking a class when the quake struck was trying to keep people calm and usher them out. She seemed perfectly unflappable and Harry was thankful for it. ‘I have to go,’ he told her. ‘The baby’s coming.’ She looked like she’d been about to argue but changed her mind.

Out in the staff car park at the back Harry could barely believe what he was seeing. Three cars parked behind the bakery were flattened, completely covered in bricks and rubble. Heart in his mouth he raced across, trying to peer through the grimy windows, hoping desperately that there had been no one inside. Something moved in the second car and his heart leapt into his mouth but it was a dog, a small fluffy white thing bouncing up and barking furiously at him even though the car it was protecting was now just scrap metal. Harry had no idea how they’d get the creature out.

He huffed in a relieved breath. He could see right into the kitchen of the bakery, everything looked perfectly normal, if you ignored the fact that there was no exterior wall. Thank god, there didn’t seem to be any injuries there.

His hands were shaking as he tried to get his key in the car door. Sarah had managed to chew up the remote door opener mechanism just yesterday. Jayden was trying to fix it. In the meantime he was back to the old fashioned key in the lock and he could barely manage.

Sitting in the car he took a moment to try phoning Jack. That didn’t work. Then he tried the kids’ mobiles; they all had them. No mobile phones seemed to be working. In desperation he sent Jack a text. “Ok?” Then he sent a bulk text to Kathleen, Jayden, Wilson and Jenny. “Cmng 2 gt u.B rdy”, and wondered inanely if they’d understand his version of text speak. Then he wondered if they’d even get the text in the first place. He threw his phone on the passenger seat.

Roads which an hour ago had been ordinary suburban streets were now four wheel drive territory. Harry’s car was just an ordinary sedan. He was negotiating a flooded street with unexpected sink holes and small hillocks when his phone chirped to say he had a text. He grabbed for it as he kept driving, trying to see who it was from. Kathleen. He stabbed at the buttons. “Wth Jny” she said.

So texts worked.

And Kathleen must have left high school and walked or possibly run three kilometres to get to her sister’s primary school. Another chirrup. Jack? No, Jayden. “U hv 2 sin us out”. Really? No one had signed Kathleen out.

Harry kept waiting for another text. It didn’t come.

tbc

Emily, Harry and Jack and an Earthquake.

On February 22 of this year people who live in Christchurch had their lives turned upside down. The rest of the country had a lot of preconceived notions fairly shaken up too. We had all become terribly complacent about earthquakes. We had had a big on in September and survived. In February people died. The shock, grief and heartache for the people of Christchurch was just off the scale compared to what had happened in September.

I had thought I would write a blog post about it as I had after September. I found myself however doing something different. I wrote fiction. I was not personally involved in any horrific happenings on February 22^nd but those happenings affected me deeply. I wanted to write about those people and what happened that day and the only way I felt I could do it justice was to write fiction.

I have used the characters from the novel I’m writing. They’re contemporary characters living in a fictitious version of a New Zealand city. In my mind it’s always been Christchurch. These are real people in my head. It made sense that the earthquake happened to them too. In writing these characters living through the February earthquake I can pay tribute to the many ordinary people who became heroes that day.

This feels like a very brave move to me. I have never before put my fiction out in public, well not under my own name anyway. I am very proud of how this work has come out and hope that people will enjoy the story. I have essentially been writing fan fiction for my own characters and I must admit it has been fun to extrapolate where they are beyond the events at the end of the novel. If you like it I hope you’ll let me know.

As background you need to know very little. Harry, Jack and Emily live a in a ménage relationship sharing a home, families, and each other. There are three people in their bed. Other than that they lead a normal suburban life with a large blended family. How they came to be in this stable and happy situation (and they are very happy) is a whole novel and you’re just going to have to wait until I’ve finished writing it to read all about it. The children mentioned are: Kathleen (15) and Jenny (12) – they’re Jack’s daughters, Jayden (14) – Emily’s son, Wilson (14) – Emily’s foster son and Sarah (14 months) – Emily and Harry’s (and Jack’s by love and proximity) daughter. Due to all the hurt and comfort type loving at the end of the novel Emily became pregnant again. On February 22 she is ready to pop.

I will post this in the instalments I originally used when I posted on the Compuserve Writer’s Forum to preserve the original cliff hangers. The entire story is around 12,100 words. This first section about Harry and Emily is 7500, the rest is Jack’s story of the day which can be read as a separate piece and will be posted (blogpost willing) in one section.

Read on (and comment).
To read the whole story obviously you need to move UP through the more recent posts.

Cheers

Jill

Emily, Harry, Jack and an Earthquake.

Short story (12,100 wds)

Not for publication elsewhere without permission

Copyright Jill McCaw March 2011

Christchurch New Zealand. February 22 2011

Emily found there was a small smile on her lips as she felt the tightening around her abdomen. The baby was coming, but didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Emily had had a show this morning, discovering bloody mucous when she’d wiped herself. She hadn’t said anything, everyone was so busy, the kids with school starting, the men with all the effort in getting the third gym up and running. She’d let them have as much of an ordinary day as she could.

It was lunch time and she’d managed to swallow half a sandwich. She knew she needed fuel for what was coming but wasn’t really interested in food. A cup of tea would be good though. And she needed to think about what to get out for tea because someone else could well be doing the cooking. A crash from the other side of the dining table pulled her out of her introspection. She looked up to see Sarah grinning at her, happy to have gotten her attention. The toddler was in her high chair, and obviously bored with mashing sausage into the tray had launched her plate at the floor.

‘What was I thinking,’ Emily muttered to herself patting her belly and glaring at her 14 month old. ‘Oh that’s right. You weren’t thinking. None of us were thinking. Unplanned.’ She raised her voice. ‘Sarah. No!’ And then under her breath, ‘Not unwanted though.’ She felt the rumble of an aftershock and as usual ignored it. Since the big quake in September they had tapered off. They didn’t happen very often these days but they weren’t unusual either. She started around the kitchen divider heading for Sarah as the shock got stronger. And then suddenly the whole world heaved and the rumble became a roar. She screamed as cupboards and drawers behind her suddenly shot open, the floor dropped away and she fell. On the other side of the table the high chair bounced and toppled over and she could hear Sarah’s shrieks over the crashing and thunder of the earth tearing itself apart.

Emily tried to get to her baby but couldn’t move with the violent shaking. Crockery and all the contents of the kitchen cupboards threw themselves into the air and shattered on the floor. Water suddenly erupted out of the patio, a great grey torrent pushing up nearly a metre into the air before spreading out across the garden and in through the open sliding door. With a feeling of disbelief she watched the clock crash off the wall and the framed pictures leave the walls. One crashed down where Sarah must be.

Then quite suddenly it was over. Fighting panic Emily managed to get to her knees and scuttled through the stinking slush to get to her baby. It was only the briefest of moments before she saw her, but in that time she was convinced she was dead.

She wasn’t. Stunned momentarily into silence Sarah took one look at her mother and began to scream. For the first time in her life Emily was pleased to hear her daughter’s fire engine shrieks. She struggled to undo the belts holding her into the fallen high chair, thanking her lucky stars that the back of the sturdy home built chair had protected her from the heavy picture frame that had fallen across her. She crushed the child to her chest and rained teary kisses into her hair.

Shakily Emily managed to get them both over into the lounge where other than the contents of the bookshelves being on the floor there was little damage. ‘Oh my god.’ Emily was trying not to cry. That had been absolutely terrifying. She clutched the baby. ‘That was a big one wasn’t it?’ Sarah squirmed in her arms and reluctantly she let her go. ‘I think that was bigger than the first one.’

Sarah sat on her plump little bottom and stared back at the kitchen, her eyes round with shock. ‘Owie,’ Sarah said.

‘Owie,’ Emily agreed with a giggle before a sharp pain in her abdomen doubled her over. ‘Ow. Ow. Shit.’ She clutched at her belly as an unmistakable vice like feeling tightened around her belly. ‘Oh no,’ she moaned, ‘Not now.’

As the contraction eased and she caught her breath she scrabbled for the phone. For the life of her she couldn’t remember which of the three gyms they now owned the guys would be at so she tried their cell phones. She tried Harry as the one least likely to panic, only to get a burp, burp noise of a phone that wouldn’t connect. Swearing she tried Jack’s number with the same result. ‘Oh god, what do I do now?’

Sarah had crawled over to the TV which perhaps because it was on a stand on wheels was still standing, although it had moved across the floor. Sarah stabbed at the on button and surprisingly it came on. She patted the screen in excitement when she saw “Dora the Explorer”, her fright forgotten.

‘Sorry Bubble,’ Emily used the remote to change to a local channel just as another contraction grabbed her. She doubled over trying not to swear and to remember how to pant through the pain. An aftershock rattled and shook the house and Sarah screamed again.

‘Fuck.’ Emily levered herself onto the sofa as Sarah flung herself back into her arms. Glancing up at the TV she couldn’t believe her eyes. The TV was beaming live coverage, obviously broken into schedule programme and what it showed was just simply not possible. The city was recognisably Christchurch but it was a Christchurch that looked like it was in a third world country full of hundreds of battered, dirty, shell shocked people, fallen rubble and dust. ‘Oh fuck.’ She grabbed for the phone and tried again. Now when the guy’s phones wouldn’t connect she felt a frisson of fear.

It was reflex that caused her to dial the land line of the gym, the first one, the one that was just up the road. And it rang and someone answered. ‘Hello?’ queried a female voice she didn’t recognise. The woman, presumably the current receptionist sounded rattled.

‘Is Jack there?’ she asked with no preamble, ‘Harry?’ Her eyes were still on the TV. Dear god. The Cathedral had fallen down. This couldn’t be real. ‘Hello,’ Harry’s voice said and she nearly cried.

‘Harry?’

‘Oh god Em, it’s dreadful.’ He sounded near to tears. ‘The place is wrecked. It’s all gone. It’s ruined.’

‘What?’ she said stupidly, trying to settle Sarah more comfortably next to her rather than on top of her. ‘It’s okay sweetheart. Don’t sit on Mummy. Come on, get off.’

‘The building’s fallen apart,’ Harry said and she could hear the fright in his voice. ‘The whole brick façade over the doors, it’s fallen down. Christ we were lucky no one was killed. And the back wall of the bakery next door, it’s just blown out and fallen through our windows. If the lunch time crowd had still been here…’

‘Oh god,’ Emily moaned. She never considered anything like this might have happened to them.

‘The weights machines,’ Harry continued, ‘the weights machines moved. You know how heavy they are. We’ve got people hurt. Some guys had stuff fall on them. I can’t believe it. I have to go.’

‘Harry.’ She had to get his attention. ‘You have to come home.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Harry.’

He picked up on her voice. ‘Oh god. What? Why? Are you all right? Sarah? The baby? Is it Sarah?’

‘Jesus.’ They both swore as an aftershock rumbled the buildings they were in. ‘I’m in labour,’ Emily gasped.

‘What?’

‘The baby. It’s coming.’

‘Shit.’

‘I know.’

‘I’m coming home now,’ Harry said.

‘Get Jack,’ Emily told him.

‘Jack’s in town.’

‘No.’ She felt faint. ‘He can’t be.’ Emily looked at the TV. ‘Noooo. Please.’

‘What?’

‘Town’s gone. Town’s destroyed.’

‘Huh?’

‘Aren’t you watching a TV?’

‘We’ve got no power. What do you mean?’ Her own terror was mirrored in Harry’s voice.

‘Town’s just fallen down. The Cathedral’s collapsed. They’re showing pictures of all these people… running… There are buildings totally collapsed.’

‘No,’ he breathed.

She tried to get her wits about her. ‘Where was he going? Why was Jack going to town?’ Her voice sounded shrill in her ears. Sarah wiggled off the couch.

‘The photos,’ Harry was panting, ‘the big prints for the foyer in the new gym. The camera shop rang and said they were ready. Jack went to pick them up.’

‘Shit.’ The camera shop was right in the middle of the city centre.

‘I’ll ring him,’ Harry said.

‘I tried. Cell phones don’t seem to be working.’

‘Shit.’

‘Yeah.’ Emily could feel a contraction building. ‘Harry you need to come home.’ She gasped as the pain increased. ‘Ow. Get the kids. Ah. Hang on.’ She knew she made some inarticulate noises but god it hurt. She’d forgotten how much it hurt.

‘Em.’ Harry was shouting.

‘It’s okay. I’m okay.’ She caught her breath. ‘The baby’s coming, that’s all.’

‘That’s all?’ he said in disbelief.

‘Go get the kids,’ she said as calmly as she could.

‘The kids. Oh God Em. What if something’s happened to the schools?’

Emily’s heart panged at the thought but she pushed it down. ‘They’ll be all right.’ They had to be. ‘The schools are built to all sorts of safety codes.’ She had to believe that. ‘Harry keep calm. Go by the schools and pick everyone up. I want everyone home safe. Jack will be coming home.’

‘Okay.’ He paused but didn’t say anything about Jack. ‘Have you rung the midwife?’

Emily could have kicked herself. It had never occurred to her. ‘I’ll do that right now,’ she told him.

‘How far apart are your contractions?’

‘I haven’t timed them. I don’t know.’

‘Okay. We’ve probably got time. I’ll get the kids and come home and take you to the hospital and Jack will be home by then. If things get bad before I get there then ring an ambulance. Okay?’

‘They won’t come.’ Her mouth was dry. ‘They’re going to be so busy. There won’t be any ambulances.’ She glanced up as she heard Sarah suddenly cry. ‘God.’ She heaved herself off the couch and followed the noise. Sarah was sitting in the kitchen, surrounded by broken glass and mud. ‘Sarah.’ The baby didn’t seem to be bleeding. ‘Sarah, don’t move. I’m coming.’ She was bare foot but she had to get to her child.

‘What?’ Harry yelled from the phone.

‘There’s glass everywhere,’ Emily told him. ‘I have to go.’

‘Wait.’ Harry shouted. ‘Is the house safe?’

‘The kitchen isn’t. Sarah don’t move.’

Dropping the phone she held out her hand, motioning for the little girl to stay put. Cautiously she slid her feet through the sludge, barking her toes on unseen obstacles as she rounded the end of the divider bench. She got close enough to reach down and lift the child, her back screaming with the effort and plonked her on the bench top. There was a tiny cut on her little palm. Emily’s heart was racing. She slid the child, on her squelchy bottom back along the bench as Sarah wrapped her arms around her neck, her own feet sliding cautiously back through the muck. She had to stop and wait out another contraction, holding desperately onto the bench top with Sarah clinging to her before she was able to get them both safely back out of the mess.

The phone was still at the end of the bench. Harry was no longer on the other end of it. With her heart in her mouth she tried Jack’s cell phone again. There was nothing. ‘Oh god please Jack. Please come home.’

The Joy of Soaring

 This post was originally written and published in Kiwi Flyer magazine Dec 2010. I felt it deserved a wider audience, particularly among my non-gliding/flying followers. I've mentioned the joy I get from flying gliders briefly on a post at the Writer's Forum. This goes into it a little more.

I promise to write something about Alex and his 1000km flight very soon.

During the recent South Island contest at Omarama I was preparing for my daily role of time keeper when I was kidnapped off the grid by Terry Delore. Terry wanted company for: “A brief half hour flight ... have you back before the launch.” Yeah. Right.

Terry Delore is a legend in soaring circles around the world. He was adventurer Steve Fossett’s pilot (Fossett was relegated to a co-pilot role) for all of the duo’s world record flights and also holds several world records in his own right. Terry doesn’t “do” competitions anymore, preferring instead to share his knowledge with others in the gliding fraternity by taking them for rides and giving hands on examples of how he does what he does.

Following Steve Fossett’s death in an air accident two years ago Terry bought the glider the two had used for their flights. Named ‘Athena’ the ASH 25 Mi is a super ship for long distance flying. She is self launching with a Wankel engine with retractable prop. She has an enormous 25.6 m wingspan and looking out along the wing it seems to go on forever. The little Grob Single Astir that I usually fly has a wing span of 15m. You could nearly park it under Athena’s wing.

Terry Delore loves gliding. He doesn’t have to prove anything to anyone. He has flown further than any other person but one in the whole world. He soars for the sheer joy of it and on Friday 19 November he took me along for a ride. Terry doesn’t do short flights.

We took off under our own noisy steam and climbed to around 2000’ AGL before shutting down the engine. Then started one of the best flights of my life. We climbed into wave and headed south. A week earlier Terry had taken my husband John on a similar expedition, they had ended up turning north again over Patterson Inlet on Stewart Island, a turn point exactly 300km from their take off point at Omarama. They were prepared for a long wave flight. I wasn’t. I was wearing shorts and tee shirt, short socks and trainers. I did have a hat and I was sun-screened. I had none of my usual gliding paraphernalia, not even a drink bottle or a muslei bar. Didn’t matter.

Fortunately it was a warm day and for most of the trip we had a clear sky. On oxygen we flew alongside lenticular clouds marking the wave at around 12,000 feet. We kept the airspeed to around 100 kts and at one stage the computer was showing a ground speed of 216 kph. With the sun out it wasn’t cold. Terry is a fantastic teacher, explaining tactics and intricacies of wave flying as well as letting me fly the aircraft. The long wingspan makes her very heavy on controls and she needs a lot more rudder than I am used to. She’s heavy on rudder too needing all my strength to “boot her in”. Terry ribbed me on the “windscreen wiper” effect the yaw string made across the canopy.

We travelled south down a wave system formed by the Dunstan Mountains and crossed the Nevis valley through gaps in the cloud. Overhead Kingston at the south of Lake Wakatipu we could see that a front was moving up the country, the winds were changing direction and we wouldn’t be able to travel too much further south. I was fine with that, among other things I didn’t have was my usual equipment to deal with in flight “relief”. I was fine, but I didn’t want to be up there all day. Terry was sharing his water and some huckery muslei bars and lollies he found in the side pocket. We did manage to sneak down across the Mavora lakes and tip toed out across Southland in an area of zero sink as far as Mossburn. The south coast and Lake Te Anau were in sight and we’d gone far enough. High overcast was starting to cut off the sun and we turned north to run for home.

When you put Athena’s nose down she just goes. The ASH 25 might be old technology, they have been around since the mid ‘90s but there is still not much that beats them. With a lift/drag (L/D) ratio of 57 at 51 kts it goes for miles without losing any noticeable height. We ran at what Terry reckons is best L/D of 120 kts for distance covering and were back over the Clyde Dam in no time at all. By then the high overcast had shut the sky down and the front was chasing us. Individual clouds were still marking the Dunstan Wave but it was nothing like the long smooth lenticulars we’d come down on. At around 10,000 feet we needed it to get us home.

It was not a problem (few things with Terry ever are). Terry showed me how to point the aircraft at a cloud and pull up and away as we came into the lift, gaining a thousand feet in height as we did so. It was glorious fun. The whole trip was glorious fun and the lines from John Gillespie Magee’s poem High Flight were running through my mind.

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, – and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of – wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air...

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, nor even eagle flew –
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

We were back on the ground at Omarama ahead of the front after three and a half hours of wonderful flying. I was cold and desperate for a bathroom visit and wonderfully happy. I couldn’t stop smiling. This flight reminded me of something I often forget in the seriousness of editing SoaringNZ. Gliding is fun. Gliding is like nothing else I know for making me feel happy and joyous and that is why I do it. This flight with a good mate who just happens to be the world’s best soaring pilot was one of the most fun things I’ve done in ages. If you’d like to give the fun sport of gliding a try, look up your local club on the Gliding New Zealand website www.gliding.co.nz

I’d like to thank Terry for taking me for a “short flight.” One day I’d love to go with him on a long one.

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Have a wonderful flying summer. Happy Christmas.

Jill McCaw