Stay Tuned

Chapter 58

I stumbled over a tree branch and caught myself before I hit the ground. Fragments of conversation floated toward me as I made my way closer to the ambulances. Paramedics rushed from resident to resident, checking pulses and taking blood pressure measurements.
 
“Needs oxygen…possible smoke inhalation…”

“…may need to transfer…”

“Eighty-year-old white male, history of chest pain…”

A few employees milled around, looking helpless and upset. One sat on the ground, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. I didn’t see Sharice.

The fire chief paced back and forth in front of me. With a shaking hand, I tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me. I’m Melissa Moore from WSGA. I needed to ask a question, please.”

He whirled around and his eyes narrowed as he looked me up and down. “Sorry, I don’t have time to do an interview right now.” He stalked away from me.

I chased after him and caught up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t explain myself.”

Firemen wheeled out several other residents, all who looked dazed and frightened. I scanned their faces. None of them were Mother.

“You see,” I started to say, and then choked up. “My mother is a resident here.” I sucked in a ragged breath and wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. “I don’t know where she is. I’m frightened because she has dementia. She might not know to come out.”

Disjointed as my story was, the chief seemed to understand.

“All right. I’ll see what I can find out.” He walked over to the woman who appeared to be in charge of the ladies’ auxiliary and motioned in my direction as he spoke. “This lady from the television station says her mother lives here.”

The woman in charge looked down at her clipboard. “I have a list of people here. We’ve been checking off names as the residents are brought out. Who’s your mother, darling?”

“Bailey. Ruth Anne,” I answered quickly, glancing around to make sure I hadn’t missed her. “She’s almost eighty, in a wheelchair,” I stopped, realizing I was describing almost every female resident in the building. “She has dementia.”

The woman bobbed her head. “Most of the residents are out of the building. A few have been taken to the hospital. But I don’t see your mother’s name.”

My heart skipped and raced with worst-case scenarios. She’s trapped, screaming in pain, she can’t get out. Without thinking, I began to run full-speed toward the building.

A huge muscular arm in a fireman’s uniform caught me around the waist and held me back. “Miss, you can’t go in there,” his stern voice said in my ear. When I tried to ignore him and push away, his hand clamped tighter. “We’re doing the best we can. You have to go back.”

Tears leaked out of my eyes. “But I can’t find my mother.”

The fireman held me out at arm’s length and steadied me. “Let us do our job. I need to go back in. I’ll see if I can find her. What’s her name?”

“Ruth Anne Bailey.” I blinked and stared into his eyes, trying to get my composure. “Her nurse is Sharice. She would know where Mother is. Sharice will know.”

He let go of me and I stepped back several paces.

Get a hold of yourself, Melissa. You’re in the way.
 
A half-dozen firefighters at the pump trucks focused two hoses at the back building. Another group of men shot one stream of water at the place where the hallway connected the two buildings, and another stream at the main part where Mother lived.

The fire wasn’t giving up. Small gusts of wind helped the blaze inch along the main building, making bits of progress in spite of the efforts to battle it.

Another sob caught in my throat. Tears stung my eyes. I leaned against a wide tree trunk, and put my head in my hands. I couldn’t bear to watch any longer.

A grip on my shoulder startled me. It must be another firefighter or paramedic. I wiped my face hastily and started to explain.

It was Rick. His camera and tripod lay on the ground, along with extra equipment. “I’ve sent for the live truck. One of the engineers is coming. No word?”

I could barely answer. “They…haven’t found her yet,” I managed to get out.

Rick touched my arm. “Melissa, if it helps, I’m sure I just saw Chris pull up. I think he’s a little frantic looking for you and your mother.”

Shouts rang out across the lawn. One of the ambulance’s lights began to flash. Its sirens howled so loudly it made me shudder. Then, two firefighters carrying a black woman on a stretcher rushed out of the building. The men’s yellow uniforms were covered in soot. Seconds later, paramedics grabbed the stretcher and pulled it into the back of the ambulance.

As the door shut, the wheels of the ambulance started moving—slowly, then faster. We watched as the vehicle pulled down the driveway and out of sight.

Rick helped me to my feet. “Listen,” he said, “according to what I’m being told, most of the residents are okay. Minor burns, some smoke inhalation. They’re trying to contain the fire to the back building.”

He took my arm. “Let’s find Chris. Maybe he knows whether they’ve found your mom.”

Chris had already made his way to the paramedic station. I tried to get his attention as he weaved in and out of wheelchairs, searching faces. The number of residents waiting to be examined had multiplied.

“I don’t see her nurse,” I said to Rick, panicking. “Why don’t I see Sharice anywhere?”

Rick began to count. “Ten, fourteen, twenty, twenty-five. How many people did you say lived here?”
BOOM!

A thunderous explosion rocked the ground. I held onto Chris for balance. People began to scream and cry. Flames shot into the air from the right side of the nursing home. A fireman, carrying a tiny woman in bright blue, burst out of the front door.