Authors: Brendan DuBois
Twilight (29 page)
She opened up a little glass bottle of some type of cold cream, which she smeared on my upper lip and in each nostril. Vicks VapoRub rides again. Just like that timeâages ago, it seemedâwhen we had excavated those cows back at that burned-out farm. The smell was overwhelming, but it was a heavy mint scent that at least overwhelmed everything else. She did the same with Charlie and Peter, and then passed out little paper face-masks as though we were heading into surgery or some damn thing. Lastly, rubber gloves and clear safety glasses. I put everything on, feeling hot and uncomfortable and not quite understanding how the mine-clearing crew could be doing their job. More people were coming up behind us on the path, and they weren't as prepared as Miriam, for most had handkerchiefs around their faces.
One of the mine-clearing crew came up to me and pulled up his gas
mask, his face red and sweating, his black hair sticking to his wet forehead. He said in a thick accent, “Things OK here. You want us to open it up?”
mask, his face red and sweating, his black hair sticking to his wet forehead. He said in a thick accent, “Things OK here. You want us to open it up?”
I nodded, too stunned to appreciate that he had asked me instead of Peter or Miriam or anybody else. “Yeah, open it up.”
He turned and shouted somethingâin Slovakian, maybe?âand two of the crew went to one side of the tarpaulin. Ropes and turnbuckles were holding down the side of the heavy canvas, and the mine-clearing crew went to work. The ropes snapped free and two men grabbed a corner and started pulling it back. And damn it if there wasn't an awful gurgling, burping noise as the foul air inside the mine entrance was set free. I got dizzy and walked a few steps, took a deep breath, removed my face-mask, and threw up on the ground. My breakfast came up in three heavy spasms, and I felt enormously embarrassed until I stood up, wiped my face with a coat sleeve and looked around. Except for the men with the gas masks and Charlie, everyone else was standing there as well, a wet mess on the ground around their feet, their eyes glassy and their lips shiny-wet with saliva.
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WE WAITED SOME
more while an engineering crew came up with large round metal blower fans, which they set up at the mine entrance. Another engineering crew went to work with a generator, powering up the lights within the mine shaft. With the tarpaulin gone, I could make out the round entrance fairly well. There were timbers holding up the sides and the roof, and it looked big enough to drive a truck into. The low roar of the fans was swamped some by the sound of the helicopters hovering overhead and that of the vehicles moving around in the parking lot. General Hale came over to me and said, “The air quality in there is about as good as it's going to get. Since you led us here, I think protocol should be damned and you should have first crack at taking a look. That all right, son?”
more while an engineering crew came up with large round metal blower fans, which they set up at the mine entrance. Another engineering crew went to work with a generator, powering up the lights within the mine shaft. With the tarpaulin gone, I could make out the round entrance fairly well. There were timbers holding up the sides and the roof, and it looked big enough to drive a truck into. The low roar of the fans was swamped some by the sound of the helicopters hovering overhead and that of the vehicles moving around in the parking lot. General Hale came over to me and said, “The air quality in there is about as good as it's going to get. Since you led us here, I think protocol should be damned and you should have first crack at taking a look. That all right, son?”
I picked up my gear and said, “Only if Peter and Miriam and Charlie go with me. They're my crew.”
“Of course,” Hale said.
The three of them, all dressed like me with face-masks and rubber gloves and safety glasses, joined me as we went up the dirt roadway into the entrance of the mine. The walls and the roof were rough-hewn rock. The blower fans were switched off and a small crowd of a couple of dozen watched us go in. Temporary lights had been set up at the entrance to provide even more light, and I froze as we took just one step in, for I had seen
a small child on the ground. Miriam bumped into me and said, “What's wrong?” I just looked down at the tiny figure and then squatted down on the ground. The doll weighed almost nothing, and its long blonde braids and its cloth face were dirty. I looked ahead to the shapes lying there, stretching out into the darkness, and I stood up, the doll in my hands.
a small child on the ground. Miriam bumped into me and said, “What's wrong?” I just looked down at the tiny figure and then squatted down on the ground. The doll weighed almost nothing, and its long blonde braids and its cloth face were dirty. I looked ahead to the shapes lying there, stretching out into the darkness, and I stood up, the doll in my hands.
“Nothing's wrong,” I said. “But everything's wrong.”
“Yes,” Miriam said.
I looked over at Peter and Charlie, who seemed to be waiting for me to do something. Even with all that was no doubt going on inside his head, Peter stood still, no real expression on his face. So I went ahead, turned round and said, “Welcome to Site A.”
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AND ONE OF
the horrible things, though I'm not sure if it was the worst thing or not, was how damn easy this was going to be. The militia units or rogue state police or whoever had been in charge here had created an efficient system. The mine shaft went in for a couple of hundred meters and there was still enough room to walk down the middle. On each side, lined up one after another, were the bodies, wrapped in green plastic garbage bags secured with twine. The smell was horrific, a deep, thick odor of decay and sweet-sourness that seemed to ooze right into our pores. The light overhead came from single light bulbs dangling from long power lines, and they wavered some in the air flow, making the shadows quake upon the long lines of dead men, women and children. I wasn't sure what was worse: the sight of all those green-wrapped bodies, stretching out, or the sight of the wet stone floor where the bodily fluids had been leaking out. We walked in slowly, using flashlights to help light our way, and I had to look away each time there was a shorter bundle lying next to a longer one.
the horrible things, though I'm not sure if it was the worst thing or not, was how damn easy this was going to be. The militia units or rogue state police or whoever had been in charge here had created an efficient system. The mine shaft went in for a couple of hundred meters and there was still enough room to walk down the middle. On each side, lined up one after another, were the bodies, wrapped in green plastic garbage bags secured with twine. The smell was horrific, a deep, thick odor of decay and sweet-sourness that seemed to ooze right into our pores. The light overhead came from single light bulbs dangling from long power lines, and they wavered some in the air flow, making the shadows quake upon the long lines of dead men, women and children. I wasn't sure what was worse: the sight of all those green-wrapped bodies, stretching out, or the sight of the wet stone floor where the bodily fluids had been leaking out. We walked in slowly, using flashlights to help light our way, and I had to look away each time there was a shorter bundle lying next to a longer one.
Peter led the way and Miriam was beside me. She pulled my head close and said, “The hate, my God, so much hate.”
Charlie was behind us, his face cold and impassive, and I knew that if we'd been back at the hospital parking lot he would have opened fire in an instant on the militia representatives who were waiting there, hoping for another armistice.
Then the path ended, at an exhibit of rusting old machinery. There were no more bodies. Just the gloom of the mine shaft, now descending at a steeper angle. Peter leaned in, flashed his light down there, and said, his voice muffled, “There might be more, tossed down the shaft. We'll have to send a crew in there with lights and ropes.”
Miriam looked back at the little round spot of light that was the entrance to the tunnel. I stood beside her and shifted my duffel bag from one
shoulder to the other. I knew we had work to do, I knew my gear was ready to be pulled out and used, but the sheer scale of everything overwhelmed me. It was like trying to excavate a house foundation using nothing more than a teaspoon.
shoulder to the other. I knew we had work to do, I knew my gear was ready to be pulled out and used, but the sheer scale of everything overwhelmed me. It was like trying to excavate a house foundation using nothing more than a teaspoon.
“Two hundred and twelve,” Peter announced.
“Excuse me?” I said.
“Two hundred and twelve,” he said. “That's how many bodies are in here. Look, we've got work to do. We've got to get that engineer unit in here, make sure the bodies aren't booby-trapped, and we've got to do everything we can before night falls.”
Charlie said, “I think you're too late, man. It's already twilight. Can't you see?”
I think Peter was going to say something about it not even being noontime yet, but he looked at Charlie's face and knew what he meant. I could only imagine what it must be like to see so many of your countrymen laid out like that, dead, for the crime of being hungry and being from away and for being different. That was all.
For being different.
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SEVERAL HOURS LATER
I was on an exposed piece of rock that was getting some late-afternoon sun, near the entrance of the mine shaft. The two helicopters were still overhead, doing their patrol work, making sure, I guess, that nobody was creeping around to steal the bodies. I'd taken off my gloves, safety glasses and mask and they were in a little pile at my feet, and the cream over my lip and in my nostrils was doing its job as best it could. I had a liter bottle of mineral water, which I was sipping slowly. I was into some sort of nutty routine where I would take a gulp of water, swish it around, spit it out, then take another gulp, and then swallow it. I think I was fooling myself into thinking that maybe I was rinsing out whatever bacteria and odors were coming in from the open mine shaft before I swallowed the next gulp of water.
I was on an exposed piece of rock that was getting some late-afternoon sun, near the entrance of the mine shaft. The two helicopters were still overhead, doing their patrol work, making sure, I guess, that nobody was creeping around to steal the bodies. I'd taken off my gloves, safety glasses and mask and they were in a little pile at my feet, and the cream over my lip and in my nostrils was doing its job as best it could. I had a liter bottle of mineral water, which I was sipping slowly. I was into some sort of nutty routine where I would take a gulp of water, swish it around, spit it out, then take another gulp, and then swallow it. I think I was fooling myself into thinking that maybe I was rinsing out whatever bacteria and odors were coming in from the open mine shaft before I swallowed the next gulp of water.
The work had gotten underway after the engineers had determined that there were no booby traps inside. Soon enough, the bodies started coming out. Temporary morgues with refrigeration units had been set up in large canvas tents in the parking lot, and myself and a couple of other recorders went in first, taking photos and writing down descriptions. Then there was the first pass from the forensics investigators who took measurements and other details of each body. That took some time. Then I helped photograph each body as it was removed and brought out to a flatbed truck. It could hold twenty adult corpses at a time. The soldiers who moved the
bodies wore full chemical/biological-warfare gear, with gloves and gas masks. Us UN civilians had to make do with the little face-masks and glasses and ointment. Then, with a roar of diesel engines, the truck carrying twenty dead Americansâor twenty-four or twenty-six, depending if children had been brought outâwere taken down to one of the tents, where the real horror began.
bodies wore full chemical/biological-warfare gear, with gloves and gas masks. Us UN civilians had to make do with the little face-masks and glasses and ointment. Then, with a roar of diesel engines, the truck carrying twenty dead Americansâor twenty-four or twenty-six, depending if children had been brought outâwere taken down to one of the tents, where the real horror began.
I raised the water bottle, swished, spat, and then raised it again, swished and swallowed. The bottle shook so hard that its end rattled against my teeth.
“Hey,” came a voice.
“Hey, yourself,” I said as Miriam came over and sat down beside me. Her hair was matted at the back of her head and her face was bright red. I offered her my water bottle and she nodded gratefully and took three long swallows. No spitting. She was an expert at this, while I was just a kid newspaper reporter looking to do something different.
“We're almost done emptying the mine,” she said. “How are you doing?”
“Lousy,” I said.
“Why?”
I took a breath and then regretted it. The stench from the mine shaft seemed to come in waves, and I'd got a good whiff that made my stomach do flip-flops. I coughed and said, “Because I haven't done shit in the past few hours, that's why.”
“What have you been doing, then?”
“Sitting. Breathing. Letting other people do the work. I should be down at the tents, doing the documentation, but I can't.”
“I know,” she said. “It is very tough.”
Tough. There was a procedure at the tents, too. With each delivery, soldiers would pick up a body and bring it into the cool interior of the tent. It would then be placed on a metal examining table, set at an angle so that any blood or other bodily fluids would flow down to the feet. Then the medical examiners would get to work, gently snipping away the twine and unwrapping the plastic trash bag. I would be there as well, taking photos, trying to stay out of the way. There would be the low murmur of voices, the clinking sound of medical instruments being dropped into trays, the rustling as the plastic wrapping was taken off and tossed onto the dirt floor. And I would be there, taking photos. The very first photo was that of an old woman dressed in a red flannel nightgown. That was what got to me. A nightgown. I imagined her in a tiny apartment, maybe a cat or two at her feet, having a cup of tea, feeling scared and lonely about what was going on after the attacks, not sure of what tomorrow would bring, and then â¦
The knock at the door. Her family has come, or maybe her neighbors. They are leaving the city, joining the others who have given up after weeks of no power and no water and no food deliveries, of no news on the radio or the television. So she leaves her home and departs from the city and maybe there's help out there, friends, fellow Americans who will help her and her neighbors.
Doesn't that make sense?
And then the refugee column is halted, they are yelled atâand maybe they are robbed and maybe the younger women are taken awayâand there you are, cold and frightened and not quite believing that this is happening to you, a little old lady, here in the United States of America, at the beginning of the twenty-first century, believing it must all be a mistake, right up to the point where someoneâmaybe even Gary, the local schoolteacherâplaces a pistol at the back of your head, right below the gray curls of hair.
That was what I imagined. Seeing her there, on the table, her skin puffy and dark, the exit wound of the bullet having torn apart her forehead. When the examiners got to that point I took a photo, left the tent, tossed my camera gear down and found the rock.
Tough.
“Yes,” I said. “Very tough. But only for a few minutes more.”
“You're leaving?” Miriam asked.
“Sure,” I said. “Aren't you? There's another shift coming in, and Peter and me and Charlie, we're going to get drunk, I think. Please join us.”
She rubbed my back. “Later, I will. I just met a woman, a classmate from the university. I want to talk some. But I'll catch up with you at the hospital. All right?”
“Sure,” I said. Below us, some horns started honking and it was time to leave. I was going to kiss Miriam, but she was already up, heading back to the mine shaft. She paused, turned, and waved.
I waved back, and then went down to the parking lot.
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PETER WAS STANDING
near one of the Land Cruisers, his face grimy and his eyes red-rimmed. Other people were inside the vehicle. I went up to him and said, “Did you find her?”
near one of the Land Cruisers, his face grimy and his eyes red-rimmed. Other people were inside the vehicle. I went up to him and said, “Did you find her?”
“Yes,” he snapped back.
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be. By this time tomorrow she'll be back home, away from this bloody place. And ⦠she did her job, right up to the end.”
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