Chapter 28

 

 

“Well, today’s the day we’ll find out if J.C. being out of the picture makes a difference in whether we get our delivery.”

“What’s scheduled?” Ben was in Trini’s office reviewing the balance sheet before emailing it to IHS. The tribe had received the first of the promised federal monies and the accounting had begun.

“Ten ventilators supposedly supplied by a company on the west coast and shipped through AMSA in Denver. It’s only half of what we requested but something is better than nothing.” Trini answered. “We’re also expecting two additional hospital tents to be erected today or tomorrow.”

“How many patients so far?”

“Fifty-six. And that’s in only three weeks. And we’ve lost an additional five. Dr. Henry estimates up to two hundred are in need, ill but have no way of seeking help. As far as the number of possibly exposed individuals? That could be up in the hundreds. Has anyone talked with you about taking some daily scouting tours? Going to outlying clusters of families to do a wellness interview?”

“No, but it sounds like that’s needed.”

“Yeah, like as of yesterday. We’re so behind on what needs to be done. We need to start with more testing—daily, and accurate with quick turnaround for results. There’s talk of setting up a lab out here. The reservation really needs to be divided into sections with each receiving the exact type of help they need, but the manpower to do that and to staff another clinic with docs and techs just isn’t going to happen.”

“Do we know when the ventilators are supposed to get here?” Ben had volunteered to check in supplies as they arrived and keep a record of serial numbers where applicable, as with any machinery.

“They said mid-morning which would put them here about now.”

“I’m going to run over to Two Sisters for a latte before I get busy. Can I bring you something?”

“I’m addicted to pumpkin lattes.”

“I’m on it.”

But Ben didn’t reach the bottom of the office’s front steps before almost running into Dr. Henry.

“That’s it. I’ve had it. You want to see something criminal? Follow me.” The doc abruptly turned and headed toward a white van parked outside the triage tent. He opened the van’s back doors and pointed inside. “There, and there, and there. Water stains on the crates. Ten ventilators and not one in working condition. See the rust? And this one with parts obviously missing? Three crates have been opened and the machines are on their sides. Who’s playing with us? Sending this crap. I want tracers put on this shipment. I want to know every stop, every time these crates have been touched.” His voice rose until finally he slammed the cargo doors of the van, walked to the triage tent, and turned at the door, “I want the report by tomorrow morning.” Then, slamming the door behind him, Dr. Henry disappeared into the tent, and Ben was left standing next to a dumbfounded driver.

“I work for a transport company. I’m assigned a route and cargo; I just pick up the van and take off. I had no idea …” The driver shook his head.

“I never thought that you did.” Ben added. “It’s just not the first time we’ve received sub-standard equipment, if we’ve gotten our order at all.”

“What happens now?”

“I’m going to make a list of all the serial numbers and begin a trace. It’s probably futile to think I can get to the bottom of what happened to the original order or if this was what was intended from the start. But I’m going to have to try.”

“Do you want me to unload these?”

“Let me make some phone calls. I’ll let you know. If you’re hungry or just want a good cup of coffee, I can recommend the Two Sisters. It’s a little early, but have lunch. Uncle Sam’s buying.” Ben pointed to the café.

“That’s great. Yeah, I left pretty early; lunch sounds good.”

Ben went back to the office, told Trini what had happened, picked up his iPad and walked back to the van. And then he remembered the pumpkin latte, made a trip to the cafeteria tent, had them put extra brown sugar and cinnamon packets along with a stir-stick in a sack before delivering one pumpkin latte to Trini.

“You are the sweetest man. I wouldn’t have blamed you for forgetting. It’s so time consuming and such a lot of extra work to trace serial numbers on damaged equipment that you may find out is salvage anyway. I’m sure Dr. Henry didn’t mean to be ordering you around. He’s just as frustrated as we all are—maybe more so since it interrupts patient care.”

Ben nodded. But he honestly had better things to do with his time. He thought of Julie. She was transcribing patient records—transferring everything handwritten into computer files.
Another one of those tedious jobs that needed to be done. And nobody available to do it. The entire pandemic and the reservation’s reaction to it depended upon good, concise, clear record keeping. At least the two of them were needed and could be helpful. But Ben was missing Zac. He hadn’t anticipated that the much-cherished vacation to New Mexico would end the way it did.

Raven had picked up their son in Seattle and taken him straight to Bellingham. School had started and so had soccer practice. She had packed clothes and school supplies ahead of time and there was no need to take a side trip to their home in Moose Flats, Alaska. Besides, she’d just rented a house in the outskirts of Seattle and had Romo with her. According to Raven, if Zac had thought the puppy would have forgotten him, he shouldn’t have worried. Raven sent a video of boy and dog getting reacquainted. Romo was so excited he finally just sat down and howled. Every other day, Zac texted with a Romo update that usually included pictures.

Eleven-thirty. Maybe he’d be able to pry Julie out from behind the computer in the office and take her to lunch. It might be the only down-time they’d have for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

They took their two Navajo tacos outside to one of the tables in the shade of the café tent. The weather was desert-perfect—warm but not yet hot--with a breeze that made sitting in the open comfortable.

“I’m so hooked on these. Is this a good enough reason not to move to Florida?”

“And miss out on some really great seafood?”

“Okay, you have a point.” Julie took a bite and the two sat in silence, finishing their lunch. The camp was quiet for lunch time with most eating inside. “Let me do the tracing for you. Give me the serial numbers of the units originally purchased—Trini should have those on the advance paperwork sent out. Then let me have the serial numbers from what was delivered this morning. I should be able to come up with some answers.”

“Sure you don’t mind? I need to meet with Chief Billie. I have an idea that I need to run by him.”

“I don’t mind at all. It makes a nice break for me, and I’m almost caught up with record transfers.”

 

* * *

 

Ben let his message for the chief go to voicemail. It wasn’t as if the man really had an office. He was more of a roving protector even though spotty phone service often put him out of range. In the meantime, Ben helped the driver of the ill-fated ventilators unload them and stack the crates behind the office. At least the driver was free to go.

The machines were in even worse condition than he’d thought at first. Rust meant cleaning them first before he could get an accurate reading of serial numbers. There was something almost diabolical about sending equipment in this shape when it was necessary to save lives. And to think it had been paid for—probably twice. It would be interesting to know if new, workable machines had even left the warehouse, and, if so, where and how had they been replaced by these. He hoped Julie would be able to come up with answers.

He’d just handed Julie the list of serial numbers when his phone buzzed—a text from Chief Billie. He was on his way to the camp; would Ben have time to meet around three?

 

* * *

 

More lattes, but Ben could think of worse ways to spend an afternoon. The chief was late and it was more like three-thirty before he pulled into camp.

“New problems?”

“Same old ones. I need to organize a search and rescue team but it’s going to mean more manpower than I have at the moment. I’m meeting with Dr. Black and several members of the All Indian Pueblo Council in the morning in Albuquerque. Health and Human Services promised halfway decent salaries for anyone wanting to join our team. Volunteers will need their own transportation but will get reimbursed at government rates as part of a per diem.

“I’m hoping to come up with seventy-five to a hundred men and women to cover every corner of the Navajo and Hopi reservations. That’s the only way we’ll have accurate numbers as to how many are affected by the virus and what kind of care is needed.”

“Count me in.”

“I thought I’d put you in charge of what I’m calling Territory One. It includes the Hopi and I think I can count on getting some volunteers from the tribe.”

“Actually, before I sign my life away, let me run this by you first. We have to get PPE and hospital equipment into camp—already inspected and functioning. As you know for every step forward, we’re pushed two backward by unusable supplies, or just plain hijacked deliveries. I’m still not over what happened in Albuquerque with the U-Haul. I’m angry. I’m tired of begging for supplies and then not receiving them. In addition, at least wherever possible, I’d like new equipment. But the priority is just getting serviceable PPE in quantity to stock this camp and possibly additional ones.”

Ben quickly filled the chief in on the shipment of faulty ventilators. “I want to concentrate on just getting equipment here—not catching thieves, but simply safeguarding what we so desperately need. I’m going to suggest we order everything to be flown in. Set up a contract with the government, and not just ask for a month’s worth but enough PPE to stock this camp for several months and possibly provide supplies for another hospital camp if your teams identify the need for another is warranted. I can pretty much bet that it will be.”

“I agree. I think additional camps are a given. I would be shocked if my search and rescue teams didn’t uncover a tremendous need across the reservation.”

“If the right strings were pulled, a government cargo plane could be made available. We’d collect everything and keep it in a guarded hangar until we could move it. I think we could use the National Guard here. I’d like to have everything in Albuquerque, ready to be loaded and delivered to the reservation in ten days’ time. I think Dr. Black has enough clout with IHS headquarters to put this plan in place.”

“I think you’re right.”

“Then, with everything in place, I believe there are enough car dealerships in Albuquerque to come up with trucks and vans to form a convoy and again with the Guard helping out, make certain our shipment gets here safely and exactly as ordered.”

“I like the plan. Can you organize it?”

“I’d be glad to. But I need to get the Navajo Nation president to request assignment of the New Mexico National Guard—that has to come from the reservation’s highest official. If he agrees with the plan, I’ll have him contact New Mexico’s governor. I’d like to hand-deliver the request letter keeping the plan as much of a secret as possible. And I’d be able to answer any questions the governor might have.”

“Then ride into Albuquerque with me in the morning. You could get things going with Dr. Black. A meeting with AIPC won’t go past lunch and we could both meet with Dr. Black if you don’t mind my tagging along.”

“I’m counting on you.”

 

* * *

 

Ben spent the afternoon on the phone. His plan was met with enthusiasm by the tribal council. President Nez’s office promised a formal vote among council members in the morning and a call to Ben with their decision before noon. The president was squarely behind Chief Billie’s search and rescue plan and Ben’s convoy delivery of enough PPE to stockpile. He asked Ben to meet with Dr. Black and report any problems that IHS might anticipate. Everyone agreed that speed was of the essence. The need was simply teetering on the edge of catastrophe.