Lady Justice in the Eye of the Storm Page 8

  Jerry couldn’t help himself. “So do you know the difference between a tornado, a hurricane and a divorced wife?”

  “No, what?” Bernice asked, thinking he was serious.

  “Nothing! They all get the house.”

  “Jerry! I swear!”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll quit. I’m worried too. It just helps when I can joke about it.”

  “Actually,” the Professor said, “Jerry is quite right. Laughter has proven to be powerful antidote to stress, pain, and conflict. Nothing works faster or more dependably to bring your mind and body back into balance than a good laugh. It relaxes the whole body, boosts the immune system and releases endorphins, the body’s natural ‘feel good’ chemicals.”

  “Oh, good grief!”

  “Well I’m going to try to call them again,” Mary said, flipping open her phone.

  She punched #1 on her speed dial, listened, then snapped the phone shut. “Just that same bitch tellin’ me my call can’t be completed as dialed and to call back later. Lotta good that’s gonna do if Mr. Walt and Maggie gets themselves blown away.”

  “Hush yo’ mouth,” Willie declared. “I been knowin’ Mr. Walt a lot o’ years, and if dere’s anyone what can get through that thing, it’s him!”

  “Willie’s right,” John replied. “There’s nothing more we can do tonight. We’d better get some rest and try to find them first thing in the morning.”

  “That’s not quite right, John,” Bernice said, taking his hand. “There is one more thing we can do.”

  “What’s that?”

  We can ask God to keep them safe.”

  Early the next morning, the five of them were at the computer again.

  John had ‘Googled’ Hurricane Odile.

  “Good Lord!” John muttered, as photos of the devastation filled the screen.

  Images of devastated resorts, downed power lines and Mexican families standing amid the rubble of their homes made them shudder.

  Earlier, John had found the website of the U.S. Consulate General in Tijuana, Mexico, and had sent them an email.

  He was elated when he saw that they had responded --- until he read their reply.

  Dear Mr. Williams,

  Thank you for contacting us regarding Walter and Maggie Williams and George and Judy Wilson. We have registered their information in our system. If we are in contact with them in the coming days, we will pass along your message while providing any assistance possible. Should they contact you in the near future, we ask that you let us know so we can make note of their location and conditions.

  The communications infrastructure in the affected area has been severely damaged; therefore, our ability to contact individuals is extremely limited. We are making every effort to contact U.S. citizens and local disaster relief officials and assist in the recovery effort. We have found that many individuals in the area have maintained contact via Facebook and other social media networks rather than voice communications.

  The guidance in this e-mail is based on the most current information available to us, however conditions on the ground are rapidly changing. Please review the information on our website, Facebook and Twitter feeds for the latest information on recovery efforts from Hurricane Odile.

  Sincerely,

  U.S. Consulate General, Tijuana Mexico

  “No help there,” John sighed. “I’ll call Captain Short and see if there’s anything the department can do. Other than that, I just don’t know what else we can do.”

  “I do,” Bernice replied. “We can keep praying.”

  CHAPTER 11

  It had been a horrible night.

  Totally dark by eight o’clock, there was nothing to do but hit the hay. Not a breeze was stirring and the temperature in the condo must have been close to ninety. We laid, spread-eagled on the bed, sweat oozing from our bodies.

  Every so often, I would whisper, “Maggie, are you awake?”

  “Yes.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Ten thirty.”

  What seemed like hours later, I would ask again, “Maggie, are you awake?”

  “Yes, and it’s just past eleven.”

  That went on pretty much all night.

  I was absolutely ecstatic when the first light of day seeped into our room.

  Just after dawn, around seven-thirty, I spotted Armando near the sushi restaurant, the one structure that hadn’t been totally destroyed.

  I had made a vow that I was going to get our phones charged, and I figured that when the generator was operating, there had to be an electrical outlet somewhere.

  I grabbed my phone and the charging cord, and headed to Ox’s room.

  The big guy looked like a bear that had been rousted from its hibernation. It was obvious that his night had been no better than mine.

  “Get your phone and charge cord and let’s go see what Armando can do for us.”

  We had been impressed with the work of his crew the previous day. They had worked diligently, cleaning up debris and clearing the walking paths so the guests could get around the resort safely.

  He had undoubtedly arrived early to plan the next project for his crew.

  “Good morning, Armando.”

  “Did the two of you sleep well?”

  “Sure did,” I lied. “I just wanted to thank you and your crew for the meals. We really appreciate what you’re doing for us.”

  “We’re trying,” he replied, “but we don’t have a lot to work with.”

  “I was wondering if we could ask a favor. Our cell phones are totally dead and our families have no idea whether we’re dead or alive. Is there any chance we could get a charge when the generators come on?”

  He looked around, and seeing no one, replied, “Certainly. When Oscar arrives to fire up the generator, I’ll have him plug you in.”

  “So what’s up for today?” I asked.

  He pointed to the sushi restaurant. I’m going to try to get this cleaned up so that we can have a place for everyone to eat and meet. Kind of a command center.”

  The floor of the open-air restaurant was tile and covered with three to four inches of sand. All the tables were overturned and covered as well.

  “Sounds like a plan. What can we do to help?”

  “All that sand has to go,” he replied.

  “You got it.” I replied, grabbing a shovel from a wheelbarrow that the workers had been using the previous day.

  Ox grabbed another shovel and we started digging.

  We had been working about a half hour when Matt and Heather strolled by.

  “You guys need a hand?”

  “Sure,” I replied, the sweat running down my face.

  They found tools and were soon working along beside us.

  A short time later, the other honeymoon couple showed up. Then Palmer and Muriel, another couple that we had met in the food room arrived and pitched in.

  By nine-thirty, at least a dozen people were busy shoveling, sweeping and cleaning off the overturned tables.

  At ten o’clock, just as Armando’s men had finished preparing breakfast, our project was complete.

  We made our way to the food room and found more scrambled eggs, oatmeal and thankfully, coffee.

  We carried our food back to the sushi restaurant and enjoyed our meal sitting at clean tables on a clean floor. If we could have blotted out the devastation around us, it would have almost been like we were actually on vacation rather than refugees of a natural disaster.

  I got one of those warm, fuzzy feelings seeing what had been accomplished by a group of people working together for the common good.

  Sometimes a disaster will bring out the best in people.

  Unfortunately, it can also be the opposite.

  We had just finished eating when we met Gary wearing the grungy t-shirt from the day before.

  I decided to give him a hard time. “Hey, man. Where’s my shirt?”

  “Gone,” he replied, shaking his head. “I was going to haul some wate
r for my toilet and I didn’t want to get it wet, so I hung it on a chair and put on this old thing. When I got back, the shirt was gone. I had absolutely nothing in the room but that shirt with my glasses in the pocket, and somebody took it.”

  “Your room wasn’t locked?”

  “By the time I was evacuated here, the power was already out, so they couldn’t give me a key.”

  Suddenly, another guest who had enjoyed our breakfast together came running into the courtyard.

  “My cell phone. Someone stole my cell phone while we were eating!”

  Evidently, by this time, the looters had pretty much cleaned out the damaged businesses and were focusing their attention on the resorts.

  This put a whole new light on our situation.

  We hustled back to our rooms and heaved a sigh of relief finding all our belongings intact.

  “From now on,” I said, pulling the key card from my pocket, “this door must be locked whenever we leave.”

  I slipped the card in the slot and a little red light came on. I tried again with the same result.

  “The key card is not working. Ox, give yours a try.”

  Ox stuffed his card in his door slot and got the same result. The cards had worked perfectly without power for a day and a half, but now were useless.

  We were between a rock and a hard place. From that point on, we couldn’t leave our room together because we couldn’t get back in, and we certainly couldn’t leave it unlocked with looters roaming the halls. One of us would have to be in the room every moment until we were able to figure a way to get back home.

  By this time, our toilet was in dire need of a flush, so I grabbed my trusty half-bucket and headed to the pool, dreading the soaking I knew was coming.

  My path took me by the sushi restaurant, and I just happened to glance at the huge pile of sand that our little crew had removed from the floor. I remembered seeing some of the workers shoveling the sand into five gallon buckets which they dumped onto the beach.

  Then, there it was --- a five gallon bucket with a bail was just lying there, looking sad, lonesome and in need of a new home.

  Glancing around, and seeing no one who might claim ownership, I adopted the bucket, vowing to give it a good home.

  I was feeling pretty good as I carried my potty water back to our room. Things were really looking up. Oscar had returned our phones fully charged, and I was now the proud owner of a real bucket.

  I had just poured and flushed when there was a knock on the door.

  It was Matt and Heather.

  “Looks like we’re going to be saying good bye,” Heather said. “We’re heading to the airport.”

  “Really? What have you heard?” I had heard the situation at the airport was pretty chaotic and that it was actually pretty dangerous to be there.

  “The report we got was that the Mexican military had taken over the airport and restored order. They’re bringing in military planes and evacuating people on a first-come-first-serve basis. We heard the line is pretty long, but with all the people trying to get out of Cabo, it probably won’t be getting any better real soon. We figured we might as well bite the bullet and get it over with.”

  I was actually surprised at my reaction to this news. We had only known this couple for two days, but we had suffered through a frightening experience together and had worked with each other in the aftermath of the disaster to make our situation as pleasant as possible.

  Their leaving left me with a feeling of loneliness and loss.

  “We’re really going to miss you guys,” Maggie said, mirroring my thoughts exactly.

  “How are you getting to the airport?” I asked.

  “The resort has one van that still runs,” Matt replied. “They’re taking anyone who shows up at the reception area. They’ve already hauled a couple of loads. I imagine that at least half of the guests will be gone by the end of the day.”

  At that moment, a whiff of breeze filled my nostrils with a delightful fragrance.

  “What’s that smell? It’s wonderful! Are you wearing perfume?”

  “Oh, no,” Heather laughed. “That’s air freshener. I’m a Mary Kay distributor. With the bathroom situation and no showers for three days, we’ve been spraying it pretty liberally in our room.”

  “I don’t suppose you could give us a squirt before you leave.” I pointed to our bathroom. “It’s getting pretty ripe in there.”

  “No problem. I’ll be right back.”

  They returned a few minutes later with the can of freshener and several jugs of water.

  “All yours,” she said. “We’ve packed all we can carry.”

  We hugged and said our final good byes.

  As I watched them head down the hall with their luggage, it occurred to me how fortunate we had actually been up to this point.

  Sure, we had to put up with inconveniences, but as long as we were in the resort, we had food, water, a place to sleep and relative security.

  Matt and Heather were leaving all of that, and venturing into a world that we heard was filled with machete-toting looters, long lines of angry evacuees and general chaos.

  What was frightening was that sooner or later, we would have to be doing the same.

  “So what have you heard, Captain?” John Williams asked. “Can the cops out there do anything for us?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” the captain replied. “I talked with the San Diego Police Department. They’re more than willing to send a plane to the Cabo airport but it’s just not possible. The air terminal itself was destroyed and the control tower suffered major damage. The Mexican army has taken control of the airport and are evacuating as many as possible on military planes. The state department has learned that commercial Mexican airlines might be able to assist in the evacuation as early as tomorrow. I’ve sent you a link to their site. I hope that helps. I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from them.”

  “Not a word. We’re all worried sick.”

  “I know I don’t have to tell you this, but we’re talking about Walt and Ox. Those guys can take care of themselves. I’m sure it’s just that the cell towers are down. Try not to worry.”

  “Thanks, Captain. I appreciate your confidence, but that’s my boy out there. I don’t know how not to worry.”

  John hung up, opened his computer and clicked on the link that the captain had sent. A page from the U.S. Department of State - Bureau of Consular Affairs popped up.

  Hurricane Odile

  There is active engagement of all parts of the U.S. government working together to assist in the safe return of U.S. citizens from Mexico in the wake of Hurricane Odile.

  The Mexican government is continuing military evacuation flights for people affected by the storm, providing transport to other cities within Mexico, including Tijuana, Mexico City, Mazatlan, and Guadalajara.

  U.S. government personnel are at the airports to provide assistance to U.S. citizens. The Department of State recommends that U.S. citizens affected by Hurricane Odile in Baja California Sur should proceed to San José del Cabo airport as soon as possible, if able to do so. Travel during daylight hours is recommended.

  Flights from both the Los Cabos and La Paz airports are primarily to other cities in Mexico, where travelers can book flights to the United States. U.S. Consular officers are available in these Mexican airports to assist U.S. travelers with the rest of their journey back to the United States.

  U.S. citizens are strongly discouraged from taking Highway One north from Los Cabos to Tijuana for the time-being; while the road is technically open, numerous wash-outs, a gasoline shortage, and other obstacles make the journey on this highway dangerous and arduous. Cash is required for purchase and ATM machines are not working.

  You can alert us to U.S. citizens affected by the storm, including yourself, by visiting https://tfa.state.gov/ccd, selecting “2014 Hurricane Odile,” and providing as much information as possible. You can also contact us at 1-888-407-4747 (From the United States and Canad
a), +1-202-501-4444 (From all other countries), and email OdileEmergencyUSC@state.gov if you have additional questions or concerns.

  Poor John felt absolutely helpless.

  His son, daughter-in-law and two of their friends had been caught in a deadly hurricane. Three days had passed and he didn’t even know if they were alive.

  Maybe Bernice was right. If there was nothing else to do, at least he could pray.

  As soon as Matt and Heather left, the four of us had another pow wow.

  To leave or not to leave. That was the question.

  By this time, it was almost one in the afternoon.

  We had heard that 30,000 tourists and 70,000 Mexicans were trying to get off the peninsula, and the wait in line for some had been eight hours or more. With no electricity, there were no flights out after dark. The prospect of spending the night on the ground surrounded by marooned strangers just wasn’t appealing.

  “Look,” I said, “We’ve got plenty of water, Armando has been taking care of our food, and I’ve finally got a toilet bucket. I say we stay at least one more night and see what happens tomorrow.”

  Ox wasn’t big on sleeping on gravel either, so it was settled.

  I wanted to see what was going on at the reception area, so Ox and I took off, leaving the girls to guard our open rooms.

  Matt and Heather had already gone, but others were there with their luggage waiting for a ride to the airport. Their information pretty much confirmed what we already knew. Going to the airport was a crap-shoot, but we were all going to have to face it sooner or later.

  We wandered over to the sushi bar and spotted four folks sitting at one of the tables. It was hot in the blazing sun and, as usual, we both were drenched with sweat.

  I was parched and all I had was a bottle of tepid water, but not the folks at the table --- they had a pitcher full of margaritas! There was no ice, but it looked so refreshing. I could feel my mouth pucker as I imagined the tangy brew sliding down my parched throat.