Page 5 of Born a Hero
Sonja laughed. “I think we can safely say he isn’t suffering at all.” Her expression became serious. “How about you? I noticed you were in discomfort before the superman antics. Are you okay?”
“I’ll live.” When he saw her hesitation, he added, “Don’t worry, Jesus Lady, I’m a doctor. I can gauge exactly how my body is at the moment.”
“Right. You know the old saying about a mechanic who always drives the worst rattletrap. Or a carpenter who’s own house is—”
He interrupted with a laugh and added, “I get it. And you’re probably right. I know a few doctors who smoke and are overweight. But, you can trust me, I don’t live in the clouds. I’ll be fine now that the worst is over.”
Sonja’s habit of shaking her head when she wanted to make a point registered.
“What?”
“Have you looked out the window recently? I don’t know about you but for me it seems like the rain is worse and the water’s rising. I checked the staircase, thinking to go down and get a knife. Unfortunately, it’s moving up the stairs. We might have to think about heading for the attic if things keep up this way.”
Bryce wolfed down the cookie in his hand and followed her example, heading for the staircase. Sure enough, flash flooding had forced the water to rise so fast, it had become rather terrifying. His thoughts of returning to the hospital fled as he surveyed their situation.
Without the power on, and the darkness almost complete, he decided his most important next step would be to find some source of light. His phone had been lost in his swim to rescue the boy and he had no way of contacting anyone.
Returning to the bedroom, he nodded at Sonja’s arched silent question and said, “Do you have any flashlights up here?”
Smiling, she pointed at the night table. “I have even better. My husband believed in coal oil lamps, and he kept a few in storage along with a jar of the kerosene. I also have a couple of LED contraptions that are better than a flashlight when you pull them open. They give off a good amount of illumination, so I think we’ll be fine.” So saying, she lifted one of the articles she’d pointed at and tugged the top up to show him that she knew what she was talking about. The room suddenly seemed warmer as the lamp flashed brightly.
“Great.” He took the one she held out and said, “So… where’s your attic?”
Chapter Seven
Bryce left the old woman and boy chatting sleepily, cuddled together, while he followed her whispered directions and went into the large walk-in closet. There, he saw the opening in the ceiling where the attic could be found. Getting out the steps she’d noted that were kept to the side for the small woman to get to the upper shelves, he stood on the top rung and pushed over the moveable doorway.
Then he hiked himself up, his ribs screaming from being tortured yet again and checked around with his light. Seeing it didn’t really have a wide enough glare, he scrambled up and over the rim to climb onto the floor.
Suddenly, a worried voice called from below, and he peered down.
“Are you okay?” Sonja stood with her hands in a prayer position, agitation obvious from the way she clasped her fingers.
“It’s dry from what I can tell, Sonja. This old house was well built. Someone even laid flooring up here.”
“My husband and son were the contractors and geniuses about construction. They’d thought to build a craft room and office space up there one day, so they went ahead and started by putting in a floor. Never did get that finished. When Hank passed on, Jamie moved to Los Angeles, and the attic room never got done.”
Wishing he could continue their conversation yet knowing they were running out of time; he changed the subject. “Which side of the house are the dormer windows you mentioned?”
“On the front, facing south.”
Bryce moved the light in that direction and saw what she had meant. In the distance, he suddenly made out the form of the two windows from the flash of lightning streaks viewed through the glass.
“Your husband was brilliant for thinking of putting those features in. It might save our lives if the water doesn’t stop rising.”
“That’s what I came to tell you. It’s now leaking onto the floor in the bedroom. I think we need to start moving stuff up here as soon as possible.”
“Jesus, lady. You’re just full of good news aren’t you?”
Grinning cheekily, she answered. “Yeah, Jesus Lady is a pain in the ass. Thank goodness, I’m Sonja.”
Laughing, he added, “Sonja, my angel. Okay, let’s start planning what we need and make it happen as soon as possible. Anything you think is important, grab it, and haul it into the closet. I’ll begin packing everything up here.”
“Right on it, boss.” She sent him a sassy thumbs-up and disappeared from view.
Within the next fifteen minutes, working together, they managed to haul a number of articles up top. Worried about the chance they might have to climb outside on the roof, he pulled the sliding barn door off the closet and hauled it up as a platform should they need it.
Sonja appeared wreathed in smiles and awkwardly holding onto long, foam swimming floaters in different bright colors she’d stored in the spare bedroom. “It’s amazing what an adoring grandma will have around for when the grandkids come to visit.”