Chapter 19

 

 

Ben almost missed the soft knock on his front door. The boys had just gone to bed chattering away, still talking about the movie. Anything with Ninjas and swords had to be exciting—at least to them. So, the movie wasn’t a comedy after all, and the horn-honking was just to cheer on the heroes. It seemed the camp organizers had hit upon a popular family-oriented pastime.

“Iced tea? Soft drink?” Ben offered Chief Billie a chair at the counter. “Too late for coffee?”

“I’ll take you up on a soda. And that information you promised.”

Ben filled him in on seeing J.C. in Trini’s office. J.C. getting kicked by Apache brought a smile to the chief’s face.

“Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy—but guess I shouldn’t disparage the unfortunate. Have you talked to Trini? Made certain that nothing’s missing from her files?”

“I didn’t want to worry her. I pulled the front door shut and locked it. I really wanted you to be making these decisions about how much to say and when.”

“I appreciate that. How ‘bout meeting me at her office at eight?”

 

* * *

 

“This file is out of order—unless Q now comes before M. Looks like he pulled out several and then poked them back in. I wonder what he was looking for.” She moved to the file cabinet on her right and pulled the top drawer open. “Odd. I had slipped last month’s calendar in front of the files. It’s gone. Now who would want an outdated wall calendar?”

“What was on it?” Chief Billie asked.

“I had it on my desk when I first moved in—before I even had a computer or there was
wi-fi for my phone. I jotted down phone numbers, names of contacts within IHS, contractors from FEMA—we were just setting up here; so, anything and everything having to do with getting this place in order. It was a pretty good overview of who all was involved.”

“Dates of PPE delivery?” Chief Billie was taking notes.

“No deliveries in July but several dates of when the supplies were ordered.”

“I’m not sure I see how that would be helpful,” Ben offered.

“Nor do I. I can only wonder if Ben didn’t scare him off before he got what he wanted. But it’s a lesson for me not to get complacent. I have a safe under my desk. I often have cash to pay for deliveries. I’ll make sure anything that might be of interest to the wrong parties is kept out of sight.”

“Well, just make sure you lock up at night. I wouldn’t have thought there would be a need, not out here and under these circumstances, but I was wrong. Let me know if you run across anything else missing.”

“Believe me, Chief, I won’t be leaving any doors unlocked again.”

Chief Billie walked Ben out. “Ready for tonight? I haven’t heard from Albuquerque yet, but I’m assuming everything’s on schedule—truck should be loaded and waiting for you.”

“I’ll be out front of the triage tent at four-thirty. Any change in Mr. Chase’s condition?”

“None. Still in an induced coma. He’s got a lot of mending to do before we can talk.”

Ben waved good-bye and walked to his trailer. He’d discussed the overnight with Zac and Nathan that would put the boys on their own. He’d ordered pizza for that evening and a six-pack of Mountain Dew. Otherwise, the fridge was stocked—breakfast and lunch tomorrow were covered. He told himself not to be heavy-handed with rules and regulations. He needed to trust the boys. This was a small community structured around a hospital and family needs. And it was the Rez. It would be difficult to find a safer place. He would not remind them to lock the back door, make sure burners were off on the stove, scrape their dishes, wash them, carry out the trash—the list could be exhausting and daunting if you were eleven and twelve and eager to be accepted as trusted almost-adults.

Ben was prompt at four-thirty, but his ride was already waiting on him in front of the triage tent. He knew very little about his driver for the afternoon other than he was a bull rider. Ben wasn’t sure that instilled confidence, and he soon found out that the country/western radio station blasting in the cramped cab was probably his worst fault. That was before he found out the guy chewed. Ben didn’t know if he should be relieved or upset by the fact that his driver was spitting into a can down by his feet. At least he wasn’t opening the window and taking a chance on a tobacco-laced wad of phlegm getting blown back into the cab. It was a little upsetting that chewing seemed to negate wearing a mask. The radio and the man’s off-tune singing along with every song kept any conversation to a minimum. That was a plus. Still, this was going to be a long trip.

The package that the chief promised would be waiting for him was on the front seat. Ben slipped it into his duffle. He still wished the chief hadn’t felt a gun was necessary.

 

* * *

 

Finally, he was waving good-bye to his ride and walking up the steps of the IHS hospital. It was a few minutes after eight, but Dr. Black was in his office.

“Good to see you, Ben. Glad to know you made it here safely. Give me five or ten more minutes to finish up some paperwork, and I’ll give you a ride to the motel. The U-Haul is being delivered here mid-morning so that the used office furniture will be loaded last. Should be all packed and ready to go by noon. I still can’t believe we have to go to all this trouble just to safeguard hospital supplies.”

The evening was uneventful. Ben called Zac, but the call went to voicemail. He left a message and then called Julie. More voicemail. His mouth was watering for crab cakes from the Artichoke Café but luckily he called first—temporarily closed due to indoor dining restrictions. He walked to a Blake’s Lotaburger and had a green chile cheeseburger instead.

He hadn’t realized how tired he was until he awoke at six stretched out on the bed, still wearing street clothes. A quick shower and a cup of motel coffee from the lobby and he was ready when Sandy Black picked him up.

“Sure you don’t want to stop for breakfast?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.”

“I set aside a carton of gloves for you to take. With the Navajo Nation shut down and nearby Pueblos not traveling into Albuquerque, we’ve got a pretty good stockpile in place. Might as well share when we can.”

The five desks and matching chairs were stored behind the hospital in the garage reserved for government vehicles and groundskeeping equipment. According to schedule, the U-Haul was delivered right at ten. Before the furniture was loaded, Ben checked the row of boxes marked personal. In the kitchen box was a complete set of copper pans. Nice ones. Ben wondered where they were going to end up. Maybe with the Two Sisters? Next, the linens—flowered sheets that he’d never choose, but nice. Something Trini might like. The personal toiletries were complete—several bottles of shampoo and conditioner, air freshener, antibacterial soap and salve, and lastly, a red leather case of manicure tools. Expensive and a somewhat odd addition because of their obvious value, but it fit in with the other personal items.

Ben made sure all the boxes were closed and added some extra tape to a couple. There were no boxes of PPE mixed in with his ‘pretend’ household items. Those valued items were at the front of the truck, next to the cab, and safely hidden behind all the rest. Finally, they were ready to add the furniture. He had the help of a couple maintenance men and the loading went quickly. He was on his way a half hour early.

The speed-limit was seventy-five, but the older model truck seemed to labor a little if he pushed it over seventy. He wasn’t going to make good time, but he guessed it didn’t matter. He’d just be glad to have the PPE safely in the hands of those who needed it in the camp. He’d forgotten that truckers pretty much dominated Interstate 40. And now with travel restrictions in place for anyone other than intrastate commerce, eighteen-wheelers were about the only vehicles on the road.

He was just settling in when the truck began losing power in general—no lights, low battery warning came on, no power windows, no air-conditioning. And then it just quit altogether. He coasted to the side of the highway and pulled the big truck completely off the road. Now what?

The rental paperwork was in the glove compartment and he called the U-Haul agency in Albuquerque. He gave them his exact location and was assured that they could send help his way when their mechanic returned from lunch. Nothing to do but wait, and think. Could it even be possible that this was planned? Someone set him up to have the truck break down? No, he couldn’t give into that; he’d be looking over his shoulder all the time if he let himself suspect sabotage. But he pulled his duffle up onto the seat next to him and patted the side that held the gun, then slipped it out and placed the .38 under the driver’s seat.

 

* * *

 

It was four before the U-Haul was towed back to the garage adjacent to the rental agency. A faulty alternator, its serpentine belt in tatters, had drained the battery, even causing some bearings to fail in the engine. It wasn’t going to be an easy fix. In fact, there was no way it was going to be fixed in the agency’s shop. The manager was apologetic and said he had calls into shops in surrounding communities hoping to find a twenty-foot, box truck replacement. It was another hour before he walked out into the waiting area to tell Ben the good news and the bad.

The good news? He’d finally found a truck of the necessary size. The bad news? The truck wasn’t due to be returned to Santa Fe U-Haul until the following day. By the time they got it loaded, it wouldn’t be ready to roll before late afternoon.

Ben called Chief Billie and then Trini. The chief was sorry he’d volunteered Ben for the job and once again admonished him to be careful and not advertise the cargo unless he had to declare it for some reason.

Trini assured him the boys were fine. They had taken the horses up to the north pasture and she expected them back in time for supper. Ben left a message for Zac just the same explaining what had happened. And then it was back to the hospital and another night in the motel.