Part 9 (1/2)
I said I would, and we chatted for a bit. I was struck by how calm Irena was. The power failure had tweaked a deep chord in me, making me feel as if I'd lost a sense, as if I was blind or deaf without the hum of the machines. Next door, surrounded by Chuck's gadgets and gizmos and the steady noise of the radio broadcaster, I felt almost normal. With Irena it felt different, colder certainly, but also calmer and more secure.
She was from a different generation. I guessed the machines weren't a part of them like they were of us.
Thanking her for the tea, I went back to check on Luke. A collection of neighbors had congregated in the hallway. Bundled up in winter jackets and scarves, they looked decidedly less happy than I felt.
”G.o.dd.a.m.n building administration!” growled Richard, looking toward me as I came out of the Borodins'. ”Someone's going to lose their job for this. Do you have any heating?”
”No, but Chuck has some heating gadgets, you know how he is-”
”Could I buy one from him?” asked Richard, starting toward me. ”My place is b.l.o.o.d.y freezing.”
Holding up my hand, I waved him back.
”Sorry, but this bird flu thing, you should stay back. I'll ask Chuck, but I don't think so.”
Richard frowned but stopped.
I opened the door to Chuck's, immediately feeling the warmth wash over my face. This morning is getting better and better. Entering, I was about to have a laugh with Chuck over my encounter with Richard, when I found everyone sitting still, staring at the radio.
”What?”
I closed the door behind me.
”Shhhhhh,” said Lauren tensely.
”The extent of the crash is still unknown, if it is a derailment or a collision,” said the radio.
”What happened?”
Chuck moved around the couch, pus.h.i.+ng aside boxes and bags. He was favoring the hand that the door had banged into, holding it up toward his chest. The snow beat urgently against the windowpanes as the wind violently churned the air outside. I couldn't even see the next building, not twenty feet away.
It was a complete whiteout.
”There's been a crash,” said Chuck quietly. ”A train crash. Amtrak. Halfway between New York and Boston early this morning, but they didn't find it until now. At least, this is the first they announced it.”
”- terrible loss of life, at least in the hundreds, if not from the crash itself then from freezing to death in the blizzard-”
12:30 p.m.
”WHY COULDN'T WE have stuck this inside and vented it out?”
Even with the heavy gloves, my hands were numb, and I was getting tired of leaning halfway out a window nearly a hundred feet above the ground. No matter how much I tried to shake it off, the driving snow piled up on my face and neck and melted uncomfortably into the nooks and crannies where clothing met skin.
”We don't have time to weld and pressure-test any joints,” explained Chuck.
Mounting the generator outside their living room window was proving to be harder than we'd thought. It didn't help that Chuck could barely use one hand. His injured hand had swollen up like an angry purple grapefruit.
Tony had gone to help some residents on the second floor, and Pam had returned to the Red Cross station. We had Lauren and Susie take the kids into the spare bedroom and play with them while we opened the windows. The apartment was freezing cold and awash with melting snow.
”A slow death by carbon monoxide poisoning is peaceful,” added Chuck, ”but not what I had in mind for Christmas.”
”You almost done?” I groaned.
”Just connecting cables.”
I could hear him fumbling around and swearing.
”Okay, you can let go.”
With a relieved sigh, I released the plywood platform we had the generator sitting on and leaned back into the apartment, swiveling closed my window as I did. Beside me, Chuck gave me a grin, his injured hand resting carefully on the generator. He pulled on the starter chord with his good hand, and the generator stuttered and growled to life.
”Hope the G.o.dd.a.m.n thing doesn't freeze out there,” said Chuck, closing up the window with the generator hanging outside it, but leaving a small gap for the power cords to get in.
The apartment had no balcony, and we didn't want to risk putting it on the fire escape in case someone got the idea to come up and steal it. So we'd balanced it outside a window on an improvised platform.
”I'm more worried about water getting into it,” I mused. ”Not sure it's weather proofed for sitting under a foot of melting snow.”
”We'll see, won't we?”
Leaning against the window, he gingerly pulled off lengths of duct tape from a roll, handing them to me so I could seal up the gap.
”With enough duct tape, you can fix anything,” he laughed.
”Perfect. I'll give you a thousand rolls and send you down to Con Edison to get the power back on.”
We both laughed at that.
The radio was continuing with updates about the train crash, the increasing severity of the storm, and the power failure. All of New England was paralyzed. It was another Frankenstorm-this one a powerful nor'easter colliding with a low-pressure system rising up from the Southeast. They were predicting it would dump three or four feet in the New York area as it sat on the coast. Fifteen million people and counting were without power, and many were without food or heating or any access to emergency services.
The train accident was a ma.s.s of conflicting information. Some eyewitnesses said the military was onsite almost immediately. News outlets didn't report the accident for several hours, leading to speculation that the military was trying to hide the accident for some reason, and no cause was reported.
As the scale of the storm became clear, and rumors around the train accident spread, the mood in the apartment had s.h.i.+fted from cheerful to quiet anxiety.
Pulling off my hat and scarf, I unzipped the parka Chuck had loaned me and tried to shake off the crust of snow that had wedged down the back of my neck. Chuck walked to the kitchen counter, stepping through boxes and bags, to turn up the kerosene heater, and then began rummaging around for extension cords.
Just then there was a knock on the door.
Pam appeared.
”Back so soon?” I asked. Lauren and Susie heard the knock and came into the main room.
”I had to leave.”
She looked around the room as if she was trapped.
”What happened?” asked Lauren.
”Only one doctor and half the nurses showed up today. We did the best we could, but it turned from people worrying about bird flu to people asking for medications, demanding shelter, and then the emergency generator quit.”
”My G.o.d,” said Lauren, putting one hand to her mouth. ”What happened?”