The next morning brought a thick fog, one that left droplets on Brenna’s hair when she went out to the mailbox to mail a note to Molly. On returning to the back door, she saw a large black and white long-haired cat.
“And who are you? I believe you could eat me out of house and home.”
Brenna opened the back door and the cat trotted in. Olivia was at the food dish and Brenna watched her response to the newcomer in case he were an imposter in search of a free meal. But Olivia scooted over, making room, and the big cat started eating as if he hadn’t had a full meal in quite awhile. Although by the size of him, she thought, he may eat that way all the time.
The kitchen was full of paint cans and Brenna picked up two cans of 'Shell Pink' semi-gloss and carried them upstairs to her bedroom. She had arranged for new mattresses to arrive in several days in order to give her time to paint and clean up. She had given the ceiling a new coat of white last night, making it a semi-gloss finish in order to reflect any available light. Looking out the window, she could see nothing but fog. She crossed her fingers and hoped this wouldn’t last all day.
After putting a celtic CD in the player, she pulled out a new roller and got to work. Painting was one job she hated to start because of all the preparation, but once she got working it was fun to watch the room take on a new personality. These walls had been a faded beige, obviously not painted in years. But then, the Montgomerys had been elderly a long time before they left here. She rolled the rosy pink over the walls and her spirits lifted with the change and warmth of the shade.
When her stomach started growling, Brenna looked at her watch and was surprised to see that it was two o’clock. She turned off the music and went down to the kitchen. Olivia wound around her legs, purring, and then went to the door.
“What? Are you like a dog? You can tell me when you want out?”
The look on Olivia’s face seemed to intimate that surely Brenna understood that cats were smarter than dogs. Brenna opened the door and both cats went out as a new one slipped in. This one was smaller like Olivia, but was coal black with white on its chin and paws as if it had stepped in cream.
“Good grief, do you guys have some cat network, letting everyone know there’s someone here? And who are you anyway?” This time Brenna picked the cat up to determine its gender and was pleased to note it was a spayed female. “We’ll call you Madeline for now.”
She plopped her in front of the food dish and refilled it. Then she fed herself, noting with relief that the fog had lifted and there were some cloud breaks. She went out and walked around to the front yard, easing into an old but sturdy Adirondack chair she had picked up at a garage sale. Putting her head back, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth on her face.
She had been dozing off and on for about fifteen minutes when she heard a man’s voice say, “Hi, you must be Brenna.” She opened her eyes in quickly, city defenses kicking in, to see the mailman waiting outside the gate.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. How are things going?” he asked.
“Fine...fine, that’s okay, I just nodded off. The cats and I are doing fine, thanks,” Brenna said somewhat sheepishly.
“Oh, so the rascals have returned, have they? They gave the Humane Society a run for their money. Well, my name’s Gary Boggs. My wife, Julie, and I live further down this road. We’re expecting our first baby this summer,” he said proudly.
“Oh, congratulations,” Brenna said. "How long is this road anyway?"
“I guess it’s about a mile farther to our house, that’s pretty much the end of it. It’s maintained by the county and Julie likes to walk sometimes. You should give her a call if you like to walk. We’re in the book.”
“Thanks. I guess I’ll be busy painting for awhile, though. I was just taking a break for a bit.”
“Well, nice to meet you. Here’s your mail. Let us know if you need anything.”
Brenna thanked him, took the few pieces he handed her and went back to her chair. A flyer from the hardware store and letters from her older sister and Molly. She grimaced and opened the one from her sister first. Maureen meant well, but tended to get on her nerves more than anything. Their parents had died in a commuter plane crash when Brenna was twenty-two and even though Brenna was already an adult, Maureen had tried to take her under her wing long-distance. Brenna figured Maureen already had enough to do with her own brood of four and a husband, but Maureen continued to hover long-distance from Michigan. She had been very worried when Brenna quit her job, having a hard time understanding that between their parents’ substantial life insurance policy and eight years of savings, Brenna could afford to take a much needed break before deciding about changing careers.
Fortunately this letter was short, Maureen having exhausted all her good arguments in previous calls and letters. Eric had lost his first tooth, the baby was crawling, etc. Relief, not too painful.
She turned her attention to Molly’s letter, smiling at the antics of the staff on the night shift, which Molly had been unfortunate enough to observe when she had to work a double. It left Brenna with mixed feelings of homesickness and relief that she wasn’t there. She missed her friends and their support; she missed being a sounding board for them and working out clinical problems with them. But she didn’t miss the stress of caring for critically ill children who made up their parents’ whole worlds. Molly would be coming soon to stay the weekend and she looked forward to it. In the meantime, she had a lot of work to do. She got up and went into the house, glad to see there wasn’t another cat at the back door.
Brenna finished painting the walls while the cats alternately slept on the dropcloth or regarded her thoughtfully from the windowsill. Finishing the door trim, she decided that was a good place to stop in case something bumped into it while the paint dried.
She broiled one frozen hamburger for herself and one for the cats, crumbling it into pieces and dropping it in their bowl. They crowded around greedily, practically swallowing it whole.
“You greedy guts, don’t try to tell me you’re dignified creatures when you eat like little piggies!"
She could’ve sworn Olivia looked at her reproachfully, chewing all the while.
The smoke was becoming thicker and it was harder to breathe. Where was she? She couldn’t see and her eyes stung. She was standing, but when she turned around, there was no visible place to go. She abruptly realized there were people crying out for help, some as loudly as they could, some barely audible. Then among the voices, one separated and became recognizeable as Maureen’s.
“Brenna! Brenna! Where are you? I can’t find Mom and Dad! Brenna!”
She cleared her throat and tried to yell through the smothering smoke. “Maureen, where are you?”
“Brenna, help me, I can’t find them!”
She tried to move forward only to stumble over what felt like a seatback. How could she be walking on a seatback? She screamed as a hand suddenly grasped her ankle and then slid away. Reaching down, she tried to find the arm, but when she did and checked for a pulse, it could not be felt. Tears ran down her face as she heard Maureen’s cries becoming weaker, and she continued to stumble toward the sound of her voice, hands outstretched in front of her. She screamed again as she stepped on something soft, but reaching down, discovered it was only a pillow.
Memory returned as she continued forward. “Maureen, talk to me!” she yelled, choking. They were on the commuter plane to Salt Lake City. Had they crashed? She didn’t remember a crash. Thoughts flitted through her mind in split seconds. Flames began to leap into the air as fumes from the burning plastics and foam made it harder to breathe. Why was she breathing at all? No one else seemed to be. The cries had stopped and the flames gathered in intensity. As she worked her way forward, she checked for pulses in the bodies she was stumbling over. The only person who had a pulse was one who was irretrieveably trapped in the wreckage, and the man, a business man from the feel of his sleeve and watch, weakly pushed her away, knowing she couldn’t help him. ??
?Go, go...” he coughed.
Maureen did not return her cries anymore. Brenna fell to her knees, continuing forward, but losing strength and will. It seemed she had been searching intermineably when she came across a body she recognized. She was completely blinded now and everyone had begun to feel the same as she had traversed the length of the plane, but she instinctively knew this one... this was Mom...she checked the pulse...nothing at all. Reaching around, she tried to find Dad. He had been right next to Mom...she couldn’t find him... maybe he and Maureen had gotten out! How could he live with half of his family gone? Why was she still breathing? She tried to crawl... find a door...tired...
She awoke covered in sweat, tears on her face. She knew, because Molly had told her once, that she thrashed around with this dream. Her mind began to clear, but as it did, the tears renewed themselves in earnest. She hadn’t found her dad in her dream because in real life he had been thrown clear on impact. He did not have to live without half of his family...his girls had to live without half of theirs. They had not been on the plane, had not been anywhere near Salt Lake. At the time of the crash in Utah, Maureen had just seen Bryan off to work in Michigan. Brenna had been sleeping after working swingshift in Portland. Maureen had seen a blurb on CNN before anyone contacted her and had called Bryan to come home. It was a couple hours before Bryan could get reliable information from the airport. A spokesman for the company had regretfully told him there were no survivors. It hadn't been necessary to go down a list and wait for hours as rescuers searched, hoping. If they had been on that jet, they were gone, plain and simple.
Brenna had slept peacefully until Bryan had the information he needed. Then he'd made the heart-wrenching call a person prays he never has to make, the words so hard to say and so much harder to hear. A call that was now years in the past, but fresh in her memory.
She took a deep breath and let it out, feeling drained and blessedly emotionless for now.
Chapter 6