Chapter 53: TBD

01 October 2000 – Hilltop Road, Lancaster, Massachusetts

“There must be some really unhappy people out there today...” Jeff muttered while he and Keiko watched the evening news together.

Neptune’s Forge announced its first two commercially-available models earlier in the day. One model was sized for a private home or a small, stand-alone business such as ‘Over Easy;’ the other was sized for up to a moderate-sized strip mall or office building.

“I believe that is the understatement of the year, husband. I am quite glad we do not have any of our funds invested in oil futures.”

“I’ll have to argue the statement you just made is the understatement of the year.”

“How much do we have invested with Neptune’s Forge?”

“I have to call Jim Teller to get the exact amount now, but the last time I spoke with Tori Rocklin, the Neptune’s Forge CFO, we held a twelve percent stake in the company; we keep putting our spare money into the company after taking care of our family.”

“Will they be able to keep up with the demand, now that the units are commercially available?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it? I’m glad they decided to restrict availability to the Northeast until we’re through the winter. Once they get a handle on what kind of demand they get with pre-orders, they’ll decide how many of the four manufacturing plants they’ve contracted with to use.”

“And once initial demand is satisfied? What then?”

“The plan is a phased introduction: the Northeast this year, the rest of US snow country next, then the rest of the US. Once they clear the exportable technology check, Canada will be the first international market, then other cold-weather countries. World-wide release will come after that; that’s where the big win for the consumer will occur. If they can eliminate the pork-based products used in the design, the regions where pork is ‘unclean’ will open up and cheap, clean power will be available far outside the cities.”

“I cannot believe how far the futures have dropped in a single day, Jeffrey!”

“If the oil companies rebrand themselves as ‘energy companies,’ I think they’ll be okay in the long run; if they get behind renewable energy sources and researching different ways to power cars, so much the better. Commodities traders just took a hit and it will only get worse from here.”

“Jeff? Come on in.” Jeff rose and closed the military thriller he’d brought with him; he closed the office door behind him and settled into the large chair provided. “So how are things going, Jeff?”

“I feel like they’re going well, Phil,” he replied to Philip Johansson, Ph.D., the therapist he chose to work with. “This past month’s been a bit of a whirlwind, trying to get DMD up and running, but we’re hitting our stride. My first month of graduate school is in the books and also seems like it’s going well. Home life? If there’s anything be better than perfect, that’s what it is.”

“So there’s nothing negative in your life?”

“No, I didn’t mean for it to sound that way,” Jeff tried to clarify. “I’ve had to learn how to balance the three different parts of my life again: work, school, and home. What I should have said is that I think I’ve already hit on the balance. I’ve got a good staff in place, so I don’t spend my time at work trying to do everything myself, nor do I spend my time micro-managing others. I go to class, do my schoolwork, and put it aside. My family gets the rest of my time, and I make sure that’s the majority of it. Things have gotten hectic again, but I’m handling it.” Phil nodded; he seemed to be happier with that answer.

“Have you had any dreams about that day since our last session two weeks ago? Before my vacation?”

“A few,” Jeff admitted. “I know I woke Keiko up once; we talked about the dream and how I felt, before I forgot about it. I have the notes here.” He handed over a piece of notebook paper.

“It seems like you’re starting to see a shift in the tenor of the dreams.” Jeff nodded this time.

“I still see Lily on the stretcher in the trauma bay at the end of the dream, but she’s talking to me before we get to that point, not screaming at me. I haven’t seen Ruby at all.”

“Why do you think that might be?”

“I think running into Ruby and Jasmine at the splash park in Sterling a few days after our last session has a lot to do with it; Jasmine gave me a hug to thank me, then Ruby did as well. I was also able to introduce them to my family. I know Jasmine heard about my reactions in her apartment and at the hospital. She thanked me for fighting as hard for her family as I would for my own. She’s moved out of Medford and into an apartment here in Ayer; she’s going to be a management trainee at the Dunkin’ Donuts on 2A.”

“You’re never going to forget that day.”

“No,” Jeff agreed with a sigh. “In a life full of turning points, that’s the latest one I’ve had and certainly one of the most profound. It’s changed the direction of my professional life, and my personal life.”

“Have you spoken to anyone from your old office?”

“I spoke to Shawna, my former partner, over the weekend; she and some of the firefighters from the station we worked out of will be visiting DMD on Friday.”

“What are you hoping for in the visit?”

“On the surface, just to reconnect with some friends I haven’t seen in a couple of months. Beyond that? I’m not sure.”

“Do you think you’re still clinging to your old job?”

“I guess in a way I am, though I still keep in touch with people I worked with in Springfield; I do the same with some Army buddies, too. People with whom I’ve shared intense experiences? Maybe that’s the common thread there?”

“Come in!” was the response to Keiko’s soft knock on the door.

The main door of the residence was open behind the screen door on this warm, Indian summer day in mid-October. Jeff ushered his wife and kids into the home. TC met them when they stepped into the living room from the foyer, giving all but Jeff hugs; Heather sat on the couch behind him holding a small bundle.

“I feel slighted,” Jeff told his friend while they shook hands.

“You’ll get over it,” TC assured him.

Jeff gave his big sister a long, congratulatory hug and a kiss on the cheek. His kids all wanted to see what their Aunt Heather held. Once their interest waned Keiko gave them each something to do while the four adults sat together. Heather handed her newborn son to Jeff.

“How are you feeling, Heather?” Keiko asked.

“Pretty good, all things considered. I didn’t have to have a c-section or an episiotomy, so no incisions to worry about.”

“Your boy already has a pretty good grip, TC. When are you giving him a baseball?”

“Baseball? He’s the future of Alabama football! Roll Tide!”

“You went to BU, fella,” Jeff pointed out.

“They don’t have a football team any more, remember?”

“You could always cheer for the Eagles.”

“You can leave,” both Pelleys said in unison.

The sports teams at Boston University are called the Terriers, while those at Boston College are called the Eagles; the two schools are fierce cross-town rivals. Keiko nearly fell out of her chair laughing; Jeff ignored the comment.

“You hardly even know you’re in Worcester when you turn onto your street, guys. This house was a great find.”

“That’s one of the reasons we chose to live on Worcester’s West Side. The house needs a little work, but I think we’ll be happy here. Heather will have a ten minute commute in the mornings at worst, and mine won’t be too bad, either.”

“What about Tom the Fourth here? Have you decided where he’ll go for daycare?”

“Worcester State has a center on-campus,” Heather said, “so I’ll bring him to work with me when I go back next fall; I’m taking a sabbatical this school year. His name’s not Tom, though.”

“It’s not? With all the people named ‘Tom’ in your families?”

“Which is part of why we felt it was more important to name him something else,” TC answered.

“Okay, so, what’s his name?” TC looked at his wife and gave her a slight nod.

Heather looked Jeff in the eye before answering: “Jeffrey.” Jeff almost dropped the baby.

“What?”

“Jeffrey Cavanaugh Pelley.”

“Why did you choose that name?”

“Pelley’s obvious, Cavanaugh to honor Heather’s mother and grandparents, and Jeffrey to honor you, dummy.”

“Jeffrey was also my father’s middle name,” Heather said, which was something Jeff hadn’t known until now. “Kevin Jeffrey Donnelly.”

“You’re my best friend, Jeff, and have been since we met at Benning years ago. As badly as I treated you after Panama you still tried to be my friend, and then you kept in touch with my family. If my son can be half that loyal to his friends, I’ll be happy. You’ve been the little brother Heather’s always wanted since you two met in ‘88, and have brought her family new life and new happiness. Heather and I don’t get to this point in our lives without you.”

“Keep going straight through the intersection after the commissary, Sir,” his passenger directed; the poor kid looked frightened every time Jeff looked over. “There’s a four-way stop there.”

I think he’s sitting at attention, Jeff thought.

“Specialist Motyka - Toby - is it okay if I call you ‘Toby,’ by the way?” The nervous Army medic in the passenger’s seat nodded. “Toby, these stars on my collar don’t mean anything outside my company, okay? I am most emphatically not a general; in fact, I was an E-5 in the Army.”

“You were a sergeant, Sir, uh, Sergeant?”

“Yep, an acting squad leader by the time I got out. My name’s Jeff, okay? Civilian EMS is pretty informal.”

“Uh, they told us to be respectful, Sir, uh, Jeff.”

“And I’ll let you know if you aren’t, trust me.” Jeff chuckled. “I’ve been known to tell doctors where to get off, sometimes right in the middle of the emergency room.” Toby’s eyes bugged out at that one.

“Toby, in the Army you’re a ‘medic’ and everyone gets that you guys can do lots of medical things. In the civilian world, to the majority of the public, we’re ‘ambulance drivers’ and nothing more; if you decide to pursue a career in EMS after you ETS you’ll find that feeling exists even in the hospitals, at least outside of the regular ER staff. A few times, some doctors-in-training got a little too big for their britches and I called them on it in front of their supervising doctors. I was lucky that those senior doctors were okay with what I did; things could have turned out badly for me if they hadn’t.”

“How do you mean?”

“EMS is supposed to be an extension of the hospital, the ER specifically, into the streets; we’re all supposed to be one, big, happy family.”

“Like the Army.”

“Right. Not always the case, but that’s the theory anyway. I’ll give you respect right up until the point you no longer earn it. If the other docs hadn’t agreed with that philosophy, my life could have been difficult.”

“Turn left here, Jeff.” Jeff did so and stopped at a security checkpoint. Toby handed the MP some document while explaining who they were; the MP inspected the paper, checking something on a clipboard, before she waved them through.

“Where are we now?”

“Marne Street,” Toby explained. “On either side of us is the base golf course, Red Tail; it’s a nine-hole course but they’re in the middle of building it out to an eighteen-hole course.”

“I can see why the speed limit here is only fifteen miles-an-hour, then. Why the guard shack, though?”

“They’re moving the on-post ammo storage to a hill on the east shore of Little Mirror Lake, which is down here, so they can keep expanding Red Tail. They’re also going to move the 10th Special Forces’ offices down here along with building them their own mini training area, hence the extra security; rumor has it the 10th will also help guard the ammo dump while they run exercises around it. Turn left.”

“Not like they’re leaving us much choice,” Jeff muttered.

There were signs on the barriers blocking the road ahead directing all traffic to turn left. Jeff could see buildings through the trees beyond them.

“Salerno Housing,” Toby commented. “They’re tearing the units down to clean up the area before they build the 10th’s new home.” Jeff looked over. “Asbestos.”

They arrived at a T-intersection, with the cross-street marked “East Perimeter Road;” there was a sturdy-looking ten-foot high fence off the shoulder on the opposite side of the road.

“The concertina wire is a nice touch. Very welcoming.” Toby chuckled while telling him to turn right.

“The MPs call this ‘The Eastside Expressway’ or ‘Perimeter Parkway.’ This used to be a rail line that ran along the east edge of the base. After the World Trade Center bombing in ‘93, the commanding general here convinced the railroad to close this branch line as a security concern. The MPs use it as the main patrol road for this side of both Main and South Post.” The two-lane road meandered through an almost-straight ravine until they came to a structure Jeff recognized.

“That’s Route 2, isn’t it?” There was a large concrete tunnel ahead topped with a familiar-looking fence, complete with concertina wire, which passed under the highway.

“Yes. There’s another tunnel like this one about fifty or a hundred yards to our west, but we can’t get to it directly because of the wetlands between here and there; we won’t be able to get to it without driving around much of South Post’s perimeter.”

“And they’re going to allow us to use this road in emergencies?”

“They already allow access to the base fire trucks and ambulances; I can’t see why they wouldn’t allow your vehicles to use it.”

Thirty minutes later they crossed back under the highway through the west tunnel. Jeff followed Toby’s instructions and they popped up near the base hospital.

“That’s the place they’re replacing, right?” Jeff asked.

“Right; that’s Cutler Army Hospital. They want to build the new place on the other side of the river where the original base hospital was, just down the street from your base.”

“It’s almost lunch time. There’s a little place over on Main Street in Shirley we can hit.”

“Sure, I’ve been there a few times; they have some good food. Take the left on Givry Road up ahead; we can go through the gate behind the high school to get to Shirley. It’s open this time of day.”

While they passed the high school and were about to turn onto Main Street, however, their lunch planning was interrupted.

“Paramedic One, Operations?”

“Operations, P-One. Quarters.”

“Paramedic One, assist Paramedic Three at one-fifteen Fitchburg Road in Ayer, one-one-five Fitchburg Road, Moore Gardens Apartments, for the apartment building fire. Reports of multiple residents trapped.”

Jeff hit the emergency lights on his SUV and turned east on Main Street.

“P-One has one-fifteen Fitchburg, Moore Gardens, from the Shirley base.”

“Operations, add Sierra One to the response from Devens Regional High School in Shirley, please.”

“Sierra One and Paramedic One have the response.”

Jeff turned up his scanner while they sped up Walker Road. He heard the first arriving Ayer police officer call on-scene and report fire already venting out two floors; Ayer’s fire chief immediately called for a second alarm, then a third once he arrived minutes later.

“Toby, once we get on-scene put that safety vest and your helmet on right away and stick close.” His passenger nodded. “This isn’t gonna be good,” Jeff muttered to himself.

They rounded a curve at the Ayer-Shirley line and the apartment complex came into view. The top three floors of the building which backed up to the Nashua River were already heavily involved; residents of that building were milling around the parking lot for the middle building of the three in the complex, despite the cold weather.

A north-northwest wind pushed the fire’s smoke plume towards the Army’s airfield on the opposite side of the road obscuring the control tower. Jeff pulled his SUV into the complex and found a spot to park which was out of the way, and where they wouldn’t get blocked in. DMD’s Paramedic One followed Ayer’s Ambulance Two in and they did the same, but closer to the building. Ayer’s Ambulance One was already in the complex along with Paramedic Three; they wouldn’t be going anywhere.

Paul Estrada, one of DMD’s first employees, was the senior medic on Paramedic Three and acted as EMS Commander for the fire. He was in the middle of briefing the other EMS crews when Jeff and Toby walked up. Trying to remain upwind of the fire put the responders on the north side of the building, exposing them to the biting wind; the air temperature hovered just above freezing on this late-November day, but not by much. Light snow swirled around them in the wind.

“What do you need, Paul?” Jeff asked once the briefing concluded.

“I want to have ambulance loading over there where the driveway splits between these two buildings; trucks can pull in, circle around to the other side of the complex and pull back out onto the road again. We’ll need to find a nearby parking lot to stage them in first. The police are working on traffic control. We’re setting up triage and sheltering the residents of this building in the community room of one-thirteen; I’ve turned Cubbie loose to be the Triage Officer over there.” Cubbie was Paul’s partner, Michael Libby, a transplant from Chicago and a die-hard Cubs fan. “You taking over EMS Command?”

“Not unless you want me to. I only came to see what kind of help you needed; this is your incident to run.”

“You’re the senior person here.”

“And you already have a good handle on things. How else are you going to gain experience running an incident?”