-Clarke

Clarke approached the Lincoln airport from the other side of town.  The helicopter carrying my family would be there soon.  As he neared, he pulled up to a one way street.  The connector road to the airport was just down the street, but in the wrong direction.  Clarke would waste precious time trying to go around and get on the right side of that street.  He looked meekly in both directions.  The street was dead empty.  Perhaps the benevolence of his mission would get him a pass, he thought, and God would forgive him for breaking a traffic law. 

He looked again and carefully turned his car and maneuvered up the wrong way of the street, quickly getting to the connector and carefully turning on to it.  He was sure he was alone on that road, so no harm no foul. 

He slyly congratulated himself for his courage and safely getting it done. 

Just then, as if on cue, the reflection of blue and red blinking lights illuminated the scene around him.  He looked in his rear-view mirror and saw the revolving lights atop the car that was quickly gaining on him. 

Of course, he thought.  A cop.

Clarke pulled over to the side of the street as the officer illuminated the car with his spotlight.  After a seemingly very long time, the cop slowly exited his vehicle and approached where Clarke sat, shining a flashlight over the car as he approached. 

Could he go any slower, Clarke thought?  Clarke rolled down his window as the officer got there, and greeted him preparing to tell him his mission and ask his forgiveness.  The officer cut him off and bluntly for his license and registration.

Clarke fumbled in the glove box and found the registration card, then pulled out his wallet to get his drivers license.  He handed these to the cop along with his Hospital ID, and began to tell him what he was doing.  At first the officer appeared to ignore him, but as he heard himself tell the story, he saw the young man’s entire demeanor change. 

The tough edge faded and he suddenly seemed much younger. Perhaps he had heard of the crash.  He certainly had never heard that story as an excuse before.  Anyway, it was too unbelievable to be a lie.  The officer quickly handed Clarke the license and registration back.

“Well, you’d better get going, pastor,” he said.  “You’ve got a big job to do.”

Clarke thanked the young man and accepted his registration and IDs back.  He watched the figure of the officer silhouetted by the bright spotlight in his mirror as he pulled away.  He now had no doubt that God must be compelling him to go, and watched over him as he went.

            In the helicopter, Helen gently touched my face again as I slept deeply.  She carefully checked the bandage wrapped around my head that she helped dad put on.  It looked good.  She patted my leg and thought I was so cold.  She didn’t know what had kept me alive that night, but was hoping that I could make it a little further.  The lights on the ground below increased in quantity as the big helicopter approached Lincoln.  Each passing second gave her new hope.  Suddenly the crew chief stood up and held his hand over his microphone.

            “Okay, were coming in for landing,” Ben shouted, looking around to insure he had everyone’s attention.  “Everyone check your belts, and we’ll be on the ground soon.  Don’t unlatch until I say, okay?”  Then he sat back down, and pulled a seat belt around him.  The helicopter rattled its way to the Lincoln Airport.

Standing near the helicopter pad, Clarke watched the lights of the two helicopters approach against the blue-gold backdrop created by the twilight of the coming dawn.  Several ambulances were idling next to him, their medical staff hand picked by Bruce to be there.  The thump of the rotors of the big military helicopter began to resonate with greater and greater intensity until they rattled the windows and other resonant objects nearby.  Slowly it descended to the center of the pad, creating a gust of cold wind that blew into Clarke, causing him to grip the hat on his head in order to keep it from flying off.  When its skids settled down, the high pitched whine of the engines sank and the immense power that lofted the huge machine was released by the pilot.  The other small helicopter was descending to another pad 20 or so yards away. 

Clark crouched and ran toward the door.  The crew chief slid it open as he approached, and Clarke could see the stretchers and figures of the people inside.  Dad, or what looked like it may have been dad, appeared and very slowly stepped out, aided by the others on board.  Clarke grabbed his arm, and helped ease him to the solid ground.  He was still shaky.  To Clarke, dad had always seemed a big man, both in size and stature.  Now he seemed small and weak.  Clarke looked at the mess of his face, catching his eyes through his swollen lids.

“Jim…”  He whispered, horrified by his injuries.  Behind them, the stretchers were quickly being unloaded, and people were shouting back and forth working out the transport details.  Dad looked at him, and held onto his shoulders trying to stay balanced.

“Clark, Char is dead.”  Dad croaked to him through chapped, bloody lips. 

“I know, Jim,” Clarke said.  “I know, and it’ll be okay…”

“She is still down there.”  Dad said.  “I-I have to take care of the kids…please, take care of her and make whatever arrangement?  I…have to go…”

Clark gently pulled the broken man to him in an embrace.  Jim hung in his arms, exhausted, on the verge of collapse.

“I’ll take care of it Jim, don’t worry.” He said.  Then he saw a little boy making his way out of the plane, his arm splinted to his chest. 

My god, he thought, that’s Chris!

He turned and stooped holding his arms open to Chris.  The little boy came to him, and Clarke grasped his arm gently.  It was unmistakable to Clarke that behind that little bloody and dirty face, those eyes had seen what such young eyes should not see.  Things that no one should see.  Clarke pulled the boy into him.  He looked at both of them.

“Listen to me, you made it, and you are going to be all right,” he said.  “You are alive, and everything will be alright.  You have to believe that, okay?”

Chris nodded and looked at the ground.  Dad had become distracted by the loading of the ambulance.  Clarke patted dad’s back and motioned him to go to the ambulances.  Dad nodded and stumbled toward them with the help of a nurse.  Clarke turned to Chris again, and gently pulled up his chin.  The boy looked at him with the eyes of an old man.  Whatever he had seen was too much, Clark could tell. 

“It will be all right,” Clarke said to him. 

Chris nodded again and Clarke patted his shoulder gently.  He stood and walked with him to the last waiting ambulance and Chris was rushed aboard.  The doors slammed and in a chorus of whining sirens, the ambulances pulled away, rumbled toward the gate, and rushed out onto the street toward Lincoln General Hospital.

Clarke watched them go in silence, feeling drained and cold by the short experience.  His attention was then drawn to the pilot of the other helicopter, who was walking toward him to get into the building that Clarke stood in front of.  He was a policeman, by the look of him.  Clarke caught his eye as he passed, and smiled at him with a nod.  He always had liked policemen, but rarely more so than tonight.

“Rough night,” Larry said as he passed.  He spoke like a man who had just been through another day’s work.  Clarke murmured that he believed that it had been.

“Coffee inside,” Larry said and opened the door to go in.  That sounded good to Clarke.   It was still cold and he could use some warmth.  The sun was coming up though.  To the east, dawn had begun to turn the dark grey of the twilight to a melding of silver, gold, and blue, slowly brightening, and washing over the barren winter landscape of the prairie.  There were no more clouds in the sky.  It was going to be a beautiful day. 

The thought gave him pause, and he thought of mom.

We all have one of these, he thought.  The next morning that we don’t get to see.  He watched the warming sky for a moment with mixed feelings.  He didn’t know if he was happy or sad that hers was so beautiful.  He shivered slightly against the winter chill and followed the officer inside.  He’d have that cup of coffee, but then he had work to do.