Hi, guys, I'm back with another chapter for you. I promise the one-chapter-a-day thing will not last forever.
I realise that at points it may seem like this story is set in the 80's or something, what with people tuning in the news on TV, and not their phones, but I didn't want to make it feel too dated, you know? I kind of feel that a small town like Seymour's Bay would function that way.
A Cry in the Park
Chapter 5
Once again, the Belcher family had fallen asleep together on the sofa, and awoke early. The first thing Linda did, as usual, was check her phone. To her surprise, she had several missed calls and messages, and Linda realised that the phone had been put on silent. Mentally slapping herself, she opened the latest message. "Bobby, they're at the last foot of rock!" she gasped, turning to face him. "They reached it at ten o'clock last night!"
"Oh, my God!" Bob cried, beaming as he pulled his wife into a hug. Their cries of joy caused their children to awaken.
"What is it?" asked Gene, rubbing his eyes. "Did they get her out?"
"They're at the last foot of rock," Linda grinned. "So they've only got twelve inches, and then Louise'll be free! She's been in there for.. 85 hours now, but that's okay!" she continued, checking the clock briefly and turning to her family. "Okay, you two go and brush your teeth, you're not going to school today," she pointed at Gene and Tina, who obeyed, grinning all the while, and Linda began to bustle about the kitchen, making breakfast for everyone. If she couldn't help with the rescue efforts, she could at least make sure the rest of her children were taken care of. It was the least she could do to let them watch the rescue of their little sister.
When breakfast was ready, Bob joined them from the living room, and the four of them ate silently.
When Gene and Tina had finished, Linda bustled them towards the front door. "Come on," she said, herding them in front of her. She wanted to get to the well quickly as possible, so she could comfort her youngest daughter.
Linda opened the front door to what she could only describe as a swarm of journalists. Cameras flashed, microphones were thrust into her face, and the reporters crowded on the doorstep jostled one another, anxious to be the one to get an interview. Some of them were pushing others out of the way to get the best angle, others shouting to make their voices heard in the din, the voices rising to a roar.
"Mrs. Belcher, can you give us a statement?" cried one reporter, shoving her microphone into the bewildered woman's face.
"Do you think your daughter's going to be okay?"
"Can you tell us anything?" The questions came louder and closer and more jumbled until eventually it became a cacophony of confusion; the journalists came closer to her, squeezing onto the little doorstep like a herd of cattle, pulling at microphone leads, narrowly avoiding hitting their heads on the cameras; the voices grew louder and more frenzied as each reporter fought to have their question acknowledged; the cameramen were trying to lift their equipment above the crowd to capture the expression on the mother's face, all of them still talking non-stop.
Linda froze, caught unaware. For a few moments, she actually couldn't move. Gene and Tina stood in front of her, staring out at all of the people, not knowing what to do. She saw Carol at the back, fighting her way through the crowd, and telling them to leave. Snapping back into reality, she pushed her children behind her out of the glare of the cameras and quickly closed the door, just after Carol slipped inside.
"What was that? What the hell was that?!" she cried to Bob, who had come running over at the sound. "What is going on?"
"Was it reporters?" her husband asked and she could only nod. She had never seen anything like that before.
"They're all outside the front door; I can't get out! Why are they doing this?" she asked, running a hand through her hair.
"It could be because you've only spoken to the press once," said Carol. "They want more information."
"But we can't give them any more! We don't know any more than what they do!" snapped Linda.
"I'm afraid stories like this draw reporters to them like a moth to a flame, and they can't keep repeating the same thing over and over again."
"Well, that's too bad; I've got better things to do than cater to them! I don't care how much they want a story; all I care about is getting Louise out of that well!" Linda finished, turning on her heel and marching upstairs.
"That was crazy," said Bob, who had only caught a glimpse of the journalist tsunami before Linda had slammed the door shut. "Lin is right, though," he concluded, "we know as much as they do, and they can talk to the rescue workers, can't they?"
"Well, it is a child-in-peril story, and they probably want to be the first one to get the latest news; perhaps their editors are hounding them," said Carol reassuringly.
"That's no excuse!" said Tina.
"Are they gonna stay out there until Louise is out?" asked Gene.
"Probably," said Bob.
"I still can't believe they did that," Tina was shocked at what had just transpired. "They should have some respect."
"Why are there so many?" asked Gene, as Linda returned with jackets for everyone, and a large bag.
"Because a lot of people think this is interesting," Bob tried to explain. "They want to know what's happening." Gene only nodded thoughtfully, still trying to fully absorb the past four days.
"How long will it be before they get her out?" he asked.
"I don't know, son. I don't think anybody does," Bob admitted, feeling a lump come to his throat. "But they are going to get her out," he said determinedly; that much he knew for sure.
"Will she be okay?" the little boy asked and the remaining Belchers' fell silent for the longest time.
"... I don't know," Bob repeated, doing his best to keep his voice even. "I hope she will be; we won't know until they get her out." Linda wished Gene would stop asking questions; it made everything seem all the more real. She didn't like to think about her daughter trapped underground with all sorts of possible injuries, and she did her best to think of other things, but when Gene went on his never-ending question tirade, it felt like a slap in the face from reality.
"So, I guess we won't be going to school until this is over," Gene said as calmly as he could, trying to think of the moment when it would be over, when everything would go back to normal. He didn't know when this would happen, but he knew that it would, for a rescue team would never leave someone stuck in a well.
"I guess so," Bob agreed. "At least here, they can't bother us that much," he added referring to the journalists, "at school, it might not be so easy."
Breakfast in the Bush household had been a tense affair. Logan refused to acknowledge his mother as they sat at the table, despite Cynthia's attempts to get him to speak to her.
Tom had been keeping out of the whole entire thing. Sure, he had been watching the news, following the story, but he made no comment on it, either at home or at work. The way he saw it, getting involved wouldn't help at all; this was Cynthia's problem. Privately, he couldn't understand why she kept going to the well site, and stirring the pot, but he knew all hell would break loose if he mentioned this.
He kept his face buried in the morning newspaper (which blared the headline "Concern grows for trapped child.")and sipped his coffee as his wife demanded her son's attention. Logan's constant calling of his name got him to look up.
"What?"
"I asked what would happen if she dies? Will I be arrested?" Tom laid his paper on the table.
"I don't know," he said honestly. "That's for the police to decide." Upon hearing that, Cynthia looked over at them.
"He can hardly get arrested for an accident, can he?" she snapped.
"I don't know; I'm not a lawyer. If she dies -"
"Yeah, well, she won't!" said Cynthia. "If you're that concerned, why don't you squeeze down there and check on her?!"
"There's already a doctor there," said Tom calmly, picking up his paper once more."I'm just saying that if she dies, there isn't anything we can do; it's up to the police."
"I mean, they'll understand that it was an accident, right?" asked Logan. "It's not my fault if she dies; it's not like I'm stopping them from getting her out."
"You're not going to get arrested," Cynthia told him. "Now, hurry up and finish your breakfast, or else you'll be late."
"I told you I'm not going to school today." Tom groaned quietly from behind his paper.
"I will not have you acting like a delinquent any longer!" Cynthia snapped. "You're going to school, even if I have to drive you there myself!"
"I told you, I'm not! You can't make me!"
"Wanna bet?" Cynthia's eyes narrowed, and Logan crossed his arms.
"Bring it on."
Cynthia proved she was a woman not to be trifled with as she pulled up outside Huxley High, with Logan in the passenger seat. It hadn't been easy, but she had managed it.
"Now, I will be here at exactly 3:15, and you better be outside waiting, because if you're not, you will be in big trouble, mister!"
"What are you gonna do? Ground me?"
"Oh, it will be much worse than grounding! Now, get inside!"
Logan exited the car, and slammed the door as hard as he could. He made his way into the school, and stopped at the front door, looking behind him. Cynthia was still there, watching him. Scowling, he went inside and waited for a moment. When he looked again, her car was gone, and Logan took the opportunity to leave.
Once again, he hopped onto his skateboard, and headed for the Steps.
The people of Seymour's Bay, and indeed, most of New Jersey, could now talk of nothing else except the ordeal of Louise in the well. Thanks to social media, the story had spread all over the United States, and many people over the country expressed their sympathies, and debates were had, both online and in real life.
One major part of the interest was debating whether or not Logan should be punished, and while the majority of the public were on Louise's side, there were a fair few who felt Logan was being dealt a rough hand.
"Well, of course he should, he pushed her in, after all," one Seymour's Bay native, Gina, said, sipping on her coffee whilst shopping with her friends. The five of them were sat together in a cafe at lunch.
"Yeah, but he didn't know about the well," said her friend, Helen, who was sat next to her. "He didn't intend for her to fall in."
"So? He shouldn't have pushed her in the first place."
"I agree; if he hadn't have pushed her, she wouldn't be in this mess," said Lisa.
"I think they're all being to hard on this kid, though; I mean, it was just an accident."
"An accident?" Gina raised an eyebrow. "Have you seen the video? He approaches her. She's walking along, minding her own business, when he walks up to her, and shoves her."
"And I think he's being punished enough, so why add to it?"
"Well, maybe then he'll learn not to put his hands on little girls! What's he doing, bullying a nine-year-old anyway?" Helen didn't really have an answer for that, and so she changed the subject slightly.
"Well, do you believe him when he says she hired a biker gang to cut off his ears?" she said, and the group laughed.
"No way!" cackled Gina, "no way could a little kid do that! And why would the gang do that?"
"Well, the mother backs him up on that; why would she lie about it?"
"Well, she also doesn't seem to think her son's a bully," said Lisa.
"I just think it's odd that not only do the family know a biker gang, but that Logan knows about that."
"All easily provable," said Gina, shrugging her shoulders, "it's not hard to walk past their restaurant, look in, and see it filled with bikers."
"I don't know," Helen continued, "it's all a little too easy for me. I think there is some truth to what he's saying."
"Even so, it doesn't give him the right to bully little kids!" said Gina hotly. The five of them were parents, and like many others, they had taken this story to heart. It could have been any one of their children stuck in that well. "What about when he chased her through the streets and made her cry? Trying to do a wrestling move on a little girl! He was planning on hurting her when he pushed her." She shook her head in disgust.
"Still," argued a more compassionate woman, Lillian, "they're taking their time getting her out, aren't they?" and just like that, the tone of conversation shifted.
"Tell me about it! It's taken them four days, and they still haven't reached her? Mad," Lisa took another sip of her coffee, adjusting her shopping bags beneath her chair. "If they don't hurry, she'll die."
"That doctor said she could have died from the fall, and that she will die if they don't get her out soon."
"You have to feel sorry for the girl, though. I mean, I couldn't imagine being trapped in a well for four days," Lillian shook her head.
"The council is to blame; they should have plugged that thing..." Gina decided. "I mean, what were they thinking?"
"Yeah," said Lisa. "If I were the parents, I'd sue."
"I know I'd be making that kid pay that girl's hospital bills," Gina muttered.
"But still," argued Lillian, "you wouldn't expect to fall in it, though, would you? I bet kids thought they would never fit down there."
"It's 14 inches wide; toddlers could fit down there easy," said Gina. "Actually, I'm surprised that Louise was able to fit."
"Oh, my sister knows her mom," said Lisa, "and, apparently, Louise is really skinny, so that's probably why."
"Fair enough. I just hope that that little scumbag is properly punished for what he did."
"Let's focus on the important thing," Lillian implored. "There is a little girl trapped in a well; getting her out should be the only thing that matters."
As it had been for the past few days, groups of women discussed it over lunch, men talked about it at work, and the children who didn't know about it were quickly filled in by their friends. Most of the residents of New Jersey would turn on the television as soon as they returned home, sneakily check Twitter at work; or tune their radios to the correct stations at work or in the car. Now it was getting more intense.
The local church in Seymour's Bay asked their congregation to pray for Louise and her family; Louise, Gene, and Tina's teachers had assigned their students to make get-well cards for Louise.
At lunchtime Tuesday, a little boy wriggled through to the front of the barriers and held out something for Linda; when she approached him, she saw that it was a card depicting her and her family crying around the well on the front in crayon, and when she opened it, Linda saw another drawing of her family, only this time they were smiling as a little drawing of Louise joined them on the page. The little boy told her that he saw her crying on the TV, and to not worry, because Louise would get out soon. Linda had been left speechless by this kind gesture, and had fought back tears.
Lillian from the coffee shop had set up an online fund for Louise, to help pay for her hospital care, and she went around the town, spreading the word, and the donations soon poured in; the journalists heard about this, and managed to find Lillian and interview her.
"I just wanted to help," she said modestly when asked why she had set up the fund. "I'm really concerned for that little girl, and I wanted to do something. And I realised that when she is out, she'll need to go to the hospital, so I decided to set up an Internet fund so her parents don't have to worry any more."
The screaming from below ground had stopped long ago. Louise had stopped talking, and would now respond with tired whimpers and moans as she grew more and more fatigued.
She was getting colder, and shivered almost constantly despite the warm air being pumped down to her.
Dr. Cabell was, once again, lowering a quarter of sugar water down to her.
"Louise?" Tim called, as the bottle disappeared from sight. "Louise, we're bringing some more water down to you, okay, sweetie? Louise?" He heard a faint whimper in reply, and he removed the headphones. She hadn't spoken since talking to her family the previous night. "She's still not talking," he said.
"Is she asleep?" asked Charlie.
"No; she's whimpering, but not talking."
"Is that normal?" Charlie looked up at Cabell. "I mean, she's okay, right?"
"It's hard to say," said Cabell. "She hasn't had any food for four days; even though we've given her sugar water, she will still get weaker over time." He paused for a moment, "to be honest, I don't know how much longer she'll last." Tim and Charlie could only exchange worried looks. "How much longer will it take?" asked Cabell, and Charlie shrugged.
"Got about ten inches of rock to go, so it could be tonight."
"Do you think she'll make it?" asked Tim.
"I hope so," Cabell replied honestly, "she's made it this far; hopefully, she can hang on for a little longer."
The tension in Wharf Park had almost reached breaking point. The drillers were frantically working to reach Louise before she succumbed to the cold and her injuries. Perhaps wracked with desperation and worry, fights broke out among the men; they would argue about who was going down to drill next and the heated words and shoving soon escalated.
"I'm going next," said one volunteer, Martin, placing a hard hat on his blonde head, and picking up a pick, as one dust-covered driller emerged from the rescue tunnel.
"You've already been down today," said another digger, an accusatory undertone to his voice.
"Who says I can only go once a day?" Lowering his tool, the two men faced one another, eyeing each other, each deeming the other to be an unworthy driller, not having the skills to break through the rock.
"Let someone else have a turn," said another man, as heads turned in their direction.
"Look, I said I'm going down next, so that's what I'm gonna do," Martin made to move towards the hole, only to be pushed back.
"Like hell, you are!" Not one to allow himself to be treated in such a way, Martin shoved back, and soon the two men were fighting in the middle of the circle, while the other men argued to and about them. Martin had just gained the upper-hand; pinning the other man to the ground, when they were forcefully separated. This was the second time that the police and fire chiefs' had had to break up a fight.
"What the hell is going on here?!" Richards bellowed, causing the men to fall silent, along with the onlookers, the media, and the police officers. "What are you doing?! This is a rescue operation, not a wrestling match! This is not a contest!" The drillers were standing silently, feeling ashamed, with everyone's eyes on them.
"We're not going to put up with this," added Davis, "so, if there's one more fight, the people responsible will be removed – permanently."
That got the message through, for the diggers silently hooked Martin up to the cable and lowered him down into the rescue tunnel, where the faint sound of digging soon floated up to the surface. After that, the atmosphere was much friendlier, although the tension could be cut with a knife.
Since the workers had decided that they were not leaving until Louise was free, the fights had stopped. The drillers still argued, however, so the police and fire chiefs remained nearby, ready to smooth out any aggressiveness that may occur.
The plight of the trapped child was what kept them going. If they got tired or hungry, they thought about Louise and what she must be going through. They worked so fervently, so much dust came from the tunnel that there appeared to be a fire below. They had wanted to extend their time in the tunnel; one man had drilled for an hour, and had almost collapsed when he had been brought back up to the surface, and so Richards had ordered that no man stay for more than forty minutes in the tunnel.
Richards, Davis and Dr. Cabell were already sizing up paramedics that were needed to free the girl. They needed someone who was thin, yet strong, and one who didn't mind tight places. Eventually, they decided on Patrick Baker, the paramedic who had arrived by ambulance on Friday, along with Simon Landon. Patrick was tall and slim, yet muscly, just what they were looking for, and the 36-year-old man was chosen to go down once workers had reached the well and pull Louise out.
Both Patrick and Simon had been on the scene ever since Friday; they had driven the ambulance to the park, expecting Louise to already be pulled from the well, and they had been fully prepared to check her over, and maybe take her to the hospital. When they saw the size of the well, they were shocked, and their job so far had been to stay out of the way, treating the occasional driller who came above ground coughing and choking from the heat and dust.
Back at the well, Cabell began to bring the bottle back up. Tim and Charlie hadn't heard Louise make any kind of sound since they had told her about the water.
"I'll give her another quarter tonight," Cabell was saying, as the bottle came into view, but he stopped when he saw the bottle. It was full, the liquid still at the waterline.
"Louise? Louise, can you hear me?" called Tim, grabbing the microphone, trying to ignore his pounding heart. "Answer me! Sweetheart, can you hear me? Can you make a noise?" There was no answer, and Charlie grabbed the lead providing Louise's microphone and, just as before, began to bounce it off her head. He only stopped when he heard a tired whine through the headphones, and they breathed a sigh of relief.
"Louise, did you know about the water?" called Charlie, "we put some more water down there for you, try and drink it, honey." There was a moment of silence, before he heard another tired moan. "Louise?" he looked back up at Cabell. "What do we do?"
"Put the bottle back down there, and hope that she drinks it; it's all we can do," the doctor said, as he lowered the bottle back into the well. Cabell decided not to say anything to the Belchers'; he'd already told them that Louise could likely die, he didn't see the need to keep reminding them. However, if he thought that the little girl wouldn't make it past the hour, then he, of course, would tell them, to allow them to say goodbye. But until he knew for sure, he was going to keep quiet.
The policemen could not bring themselves to look at the Belcher family; Louise wasn't even their child, and experiencing this was heart-wrenching. They couldn't even imagine how hard it was for them.
"God, I really hope they reach her soon," muttered Tim, rubbing his eyes.
"Me, too. It can't take much longer; it's gotta be today, right?"
"I'm hoping so; if the doctor doesn't think she can last much longer..." Tim did not finish his sentence, and instead looked down into the well.
A commotion by the barriers near the well caused the two chiefs to come over. A burly man, slightly older than middle age, was pushing his way through the crowd, which had doubled in size. There were several more reporters, and lots more onlookers, who stood pressed against the barriers, talking loudly, watching and waiting. The man was trying to break through the wall of journalists, who would not move from their spot, for fear of another reporter stealing it.
"Alright, what's the problem?" called Davis, holding up his hand for silence, which only a few people obeyed. The greying man finally pushed past a reporter and stood in front of Richards and Davis.
"My name's Douglas Farrell; I'm a Mine Safety and Health Specialist. I got back from vacation yesterday, and I'm here to help."
"Well, okay," truthfully, Davis and Richards were relieved to have someone like Douglas helping them; someone who had experience with drilling and digging underground. They beckoned him forward and the man crossed the barrier. "What we have so far," he began, as he led Douglas over to the sheet of plywood where the rescue operation had been sketched. "Louise is trapped eighty feet below ground, and we've dug a rescue shaft six feet away from the well; we couldn't drill it any closer, because we were worried about causing another cave-in. We're maintaining the temperature of the well, keeping it at around 90 degrees, and we're monitoring it for carbon monoxide and the like. We're digging over to her using jack hammers and rotary drills, and we're just going to dig across to her. We're at the last foot of rock, and we're digging it by hand."
"How far down does the well extend?"
"It's eighty feet, so there's no chance of her falling further down," Davis told him.
"Okay, when we reach her, you're gonna have to remove the bricks one at a time. Unless you're digging on the side of the cave-in, then you're gonna have to be prepared for that," Douglas said.
Douglas was instantly put in charge of the rescue operation and Richards and Davis told the drillers to direct all further questions to him.
It was now the afternoon. Louise had been in the well for 91 hours now. Although no one spoke about it, hope was beginning to dim. The onlookers mainly stood there silently, watching. The reporters were doing their best to capture every angle, and the volunteers, and police- and firemen looked downtrodden.
Tim and Charlie were both lying on their stomachs by the well. Tim was holding the headphones and Charlie was resting his head in his arms, sleeping. To say they were worried would be an understatement; Cabell, along with everybody else in the park, was growing increasingly concerned for the girl's health. He had not heard Louise make a sound for some time now, despite Tim calling down to her, and his growing fear that the girl was weakening escalated. He called down to her once more, again receiving no answer, and his shouts caused Charlie to awaken.
"I haven't heard her for hours," said Tim, looking over at Charlie worriedly.
"She's probably sleeping," Charlie replied, looking just as worried, putting on the headphones, and starting to call down to Louise, shouting louder when he did not get an answer.
"Yeah, that's right, she's sleeping; she's probably exhausted. She's gotta sleep sometime." The two officers looked at each other, taking in their haggard appearances; they both looked worn-out, they had barely moved from the well in four days and it was beginning to take its toll on them.
"Louise! Louise!" Charlie shouted as loud as he could, causing the people nearby to stop what they were doing and gather around them. "LOUISE! LOUISE!" Charlie began to hit the ground in desperation as he and Tim screamed for the girl. Again, he grabbed the lead and began hurriedly hitting the microphone on Louise's head, but she still did not make a sound. The frantic shouting had caught the attention Bob and Linda, and they scrambled out of their chairs, followed by their children. Bob, his clothes wrinkled and his hair a mess, ran over to the well.
"Louise? Louise?!" Bob shoved Charlie aside and began calling to his daughter, his heart pounding in his chest. There was no answer, and Bob put the headphones on. "Louise, answer me!" he screamed desperately when he heard nothing. "Oh, God, Louise! Please! Louise, say something! Make a noise! Anything!" He started crying and looked up at the officers. "Is she still alive?! Is she?!"
"I'm sure she's sleeping," said Tim, his voice wobbling slightly.
"Then why isn't she waking up?! She's supposed to be okay! Is she okay?!" he demanded, tears running down his face.
"Why can't you go faster?!" Linda snapped suddenly, stamping her foot, her shaking hands balled into fists. She couldn't help herself and Bob did not attempt to stop her. "I don't think you know what you're doing!" she spat, her eyes blazing, her face wet with tears. "What is wrong with you?! Don't you realise my daughter's in there?! It should not take this long! Get down there and get her out!" she ordered, her voice cracking, and she covered her face with trembling hands.
Carol quickly approached, and escorted a sobbing Bob, along with the rest of his family, away from the crowd, to somewhere more quiet. There was the ranger station, about 50 yards away, and that was where the Belcher family were taken. Once inside, Bob collapsed on the sofa, wailing and pounding on the seat cushions. "Louise! My baby!" he howled and Linda sat next to him and took him in her arms and he cried into her chest, and she cried into him, as well. Gene and Tina stood next to their parents, not knowing what to do or say. They felt rather sick. Everything was going so very wrong.
Teddy appeared and approached Gene and Tina. He put his arms around their shoulders, wondering if he should take them home. He didn't want to speak and intrude.
"Maybe the children should stay here with you for a while," Carol suggested, sitting on the sofa next to Linda and rubbing her back. Teddy nodded, not wanting to bring them back to the well site. Covering his face with his hands, Bob slid down to the floor and cried into his knees.
"Please, please let her be alright," he whispered to no one in particular, choking on his words.
Gene noticed that Tina's hands were shaking, and he pulled her into a hug.
"What is happening?" she asked quietly, and Gene could only shake his head.
"This isn't real, right?" he asked, releasing his sister. "I mean, this is all some crazy dream; it's gotta be."
"Well, which one of us is dreaming?" Tina wiped her wet eyes, "because if we can find out, then maybe we can wake up."
"Let me see, let me see," Gene placed a hand on his chin, before pinching his arm, hard. It was hard enough to cause him to yelp, and he concluded that he wasn't dreaming. This was doing an okay job of keeping their minds off Louise, though.
Tina then pinched herself, gasping at the pain.
"I'm not dreaming, either. Maybe it's Mom or Dad?" They both glanced over at their distraught, sobbing parents.
"Uh, I'm not sure we should pinch them right now," said Gene. "Wait! What if we're not waking up because we know it's ourselves who are pinching us?" At Tina's confused look, he continued, "pinch me as hard as you can; don't hold back!" he held out his arm, and Tina hesitated slightly before pinching.
Gene let out a high pitched whimper at the pain, and pulled his arm out of her grip. "Okay, so I'm definitely not dreaming; let me pinch you." Tina groaned before holding out her arm, and Gene pinched her, not as hard as he could have, but hard enough to wake her up, if she was dreaming.
Tina yanked her arm away, and looked around. She was in the park; there were police and firemen, paramedics, journalists, and her heartbroken parents. "I'm not dreaming, either," she admitted sadly.
"So, this is real?" Gene drooped upon realisation. "... What are we going to do?" he asked after a while.
"I don't know," cried Tina, looking close to tears, "there isn't anything we can do, and I'm sick of standing around and waiting!"
"This cannot be happening, I don't understand!" At that moment, Teddy approached them again.
"Ju – just think of the moment when they get her," he stuttered, trying to keep calm, trying to keep the children distracted and full of hope. "Think of how great it will be to see her."
"She will be alright, won't she, Teddy?" Gene turned to face him.
"Louise is strong; she's a fighter. She won't give up, no matter what," Teddy didn't want to lie to them.
"But – but why isn't she answering us?" asked Tina, sounding close to tears.
"I think she's in a very deep sleep," said Teddy truthfully. "I think she hasn't been sleeping much over the past couple of days, and she's so tired, she can't stay awake any more."
"Do you really believe that?" asked Gene.
"We've been telling her to get some sleep for ages; I think she's taking our advice."
Most teachers kept the televisions in their rooms now, and tuned to the news. They figured it was better than their students on their phones throughout the lesson.
They still expected work to be done, however; the television was so they could keep up with the updates, especially Louise's classes, where the students would talk of nothing else.
Due to it being a widely publicized local story, the rescue attempts were given live updates every hour, sometimes every half hour, which was what kept the students interested. Of course, many of them simply watched to avoid doing less school work.
"The rescuers are still chipping away at the rock, using hand tools," Olsen Benner was saying, reporting live from the well site, and the children in the fourth grade maths class looked up at the television. "Volunteers are unsure of how much longer it will take before they reach the well, but many believe it may not be until tomorrow."
Rudy stared at the television, his chest tightening with worry. He had already made up his mind to go down to Wharf Park after school had let out, again. He couldn't believe that his friend was still trapped. He felt sick as the camera panned down to the little well, with the wires and hoses inside it. His chest got even tighter; those wires and hoses were keeping his friend alive. He pulled out his inhaler, and pumped it, but it didn't seem to have any effect, so he did it again.
He took a deep breath, trying to get some air into his lungs, but it wasn't working, and he raised his hand, gasping.
"Ms. LaBonz?" he gasped, as the rest of the class turned around to look at him.
"What, Rudy?" she asked, looking up at the boy.
"Can I go to the nurse's office, please?"
"Fine, whatever," she waved her hand, and the boy rose from his seat and left the classroom.
Rudy walked down the hallways, still gasping. His inhaler felt pretty full, but it couldn't hurt to have it checked, and possibly have a lie down in the meantime. He needed to get his mind off of what was happening to his friend.
When he reached the nurses' office, he entered, and Liz came over to him, looking bored. Unable to speak, he held out his inhaler, and she took it.
Rudy sat on the nearest bed, gasping for breath, while she went into her office. Liz reappeared a few moments' later, and handed him the inhaler. Rudy pumped it, again feeling no better. He pumped it again, and lay down on his back. His breathing seemed to be easing up slightly, and he closed his eyes, trying to relax.
Even the teachers at Huxley High had given up trying to get their students to learn, and instead let the classes talk about the rescue operation during their -one had expected it to take as long as it was, and in the playground, the odds that Louise would die that day grew even higher; now the winner would receive fifty dollars. Of course, there were other bets, would Louise die before the workers reached her (the odds were 10 - 1 that she would), the odds that she had one or more broken bones (the odds were 5 - 1 on that) and if she somehow made it out alive, how long her hospital stay would be; most people agreed on two weeks.
"You guys are sick," said Sarah, a ninth grader, as she overheard two boys, John and Harrison, discussing their bets with each other. John had bet that Louise would die Tuesday night, before the drillers reached her, while Harrison bet that Louise would make it until Wednesday morning, after they had reached her, but before they could free her.
"What?" John turned to face her. "If I win, I get fifty dollars!"
"This is not a competition, or a horse race! A kid could die!" Like a lot of her classmates, Sarah was very invested in the story. She had a younger sister, and so she really empathised with Louise. She could not believe that people could be so callous as to take bets on a little girl's life and death situation. The television in the classroom was on and turned to the local news where Olsen Benner was giving a live report.
"Louise Belcher has been trapped eighty feet below ground for 92 hours now. It is no longer clear when rescuers are going to reach her; deadlines have passed several times now, and some rescue workers estimate that it could be another full day until they reach her. A Mine Safety specialist arrived a few hours ago to assist in the operation." Olsenlooked away as Davis approached her. "Chief Davis, could you give us an update, please?"
"Well, we are still digging over to reach the girl. We're still on the last foot, which we're digging by hand so as not to cause another cave-in. At the rate we're going, we could get her out by the end of today."
"Thank you, Chief," came Olsen's voice as Davis left. "Of course, hope is dwindling; the two police officers at the well have been constantly talking to Louise, trying to keep her awake and alert, but this morning, she wasn't answering, uh, they've been shouting down to her, but as far as we know, the little girl still isn't answering. Of course, everyone is hoping that she's sleeping, and they keep shouting down to her to try and wake her up. But, hopefully, she can hang in there for a little while longer." and the image cut back to Valerie Hope in the news studio.
"Thank you, Olsen. Like everyone else, us here at the studio hope they can get Louise out very soon, as well. Of course, you have to feel for the rest of her family, especially her poor father; we have a video clip from this afternoon here; let's watch."
The class watched silently as the camera focused on Tim and Charlie hollering down the well, trying to get Louise to answer them, and then Bob came into frame, screaming for his child and crying hysterically.
"I hope Louise is okay," said Charlotte sincerely, and a few of her more sympathetic classmates nodded.
"She's dead," said Blake, as though he knew for sure.
"You're sick!" the girl spat.
"And you're stupid!" he retorted. "Come on; four days in a well, no food. She's dead; deal with it."
"I don't understand how you can be so cruel," she shook her head in disbelief.
"Well, that's real life for you," he sneered before addressing the room as a whole. "How many people here think that she's dead?" he asked and about a third of the students raised their hands.
"I hope she isn't," said Charlotte, "because that would be a horrible way to die."
Four o'clock Tuesday afternoon marked Louise's 94th hour in the well. Bob and Linda remained at the little cafe, unable to face the fact that their daughter could be dead. Tim and Charlie had not yet heard Louise make a sound, although they continued to call her, and the images on the news truck showed Louise lying still, her head resting on her shoulder.
The drillers were still digging, and during the course of the past few hours, they had dug over three inches closer to where Louise was. Now that they were digging by hand, and only needed pick axes, there was little for the other rescue workers to do while they were waiting for their turn, except for sharpening the picks. Every fifteen minutes, a pick axe would be sent up to the surface, worn down to the core. The rescue workers would send down more equipment while they sharpened the tools.
Some of them spoke to reporters. Others spoke to the onlookers surrounding the well, mainly the little children. But mainly, they stood around the rescue shaft and well, occasionally talking to one another, waiting for their turn.
Gene, Tina and Teddy stood near the ambulance, too afraid to get any closer, silently watching the ongoing efforts. Gene's eyes were fixed on the workers surrounding the tunnel, while Tina couldn't even bring herself to look at the well. Teddy looked as though he had aged ten years.
As they continued to watch, they remained quiet; indeed, Tina feared she would vomit if she opened her mouth, so she just watched and waited, trying her best to not think of the worst, although it was difficult not when she was surrounded by the very thing she was trying not to think about.
Cheering jolted her from the thoughts she was trying not to think, and Tina instantly straightened up, her brown eyes scanning the park.
The rescue workers were gathered around the well, as were Richards and Davis. Tim and Charlie were up on their knees; they were all grinning widely. Davis noticed the kids' staring and hurried over to them.
"She was only sleeping," he grinned, relief all over his face. "She's awake now; she's making noises." For some reason, Tina felt like vomiting again. She had to be sure. She ran over to the well, along with Gene and Teddy, and jammed the headphones over her ears. At first, she couldn't hear anything, but then Charlie called down the well, and she soon heard Louise's faint, tired whimpering. Falling back onto her knees, Tina passed the headphones over to Gene in a daze. Gene beckoned Teddy in and they both ended up listening to Louise together.
That was what they needed to do; they needed to confirm that Louise was really alive before they told their parents, and the children ran over to the cafe to find Bob and Linda on the bench. Bob's arms were wrapped around Linda's crumpled form, and they were both staring blankly into space, their faces swollen from crying.
"She was sleeping; she's awake!" shouted Gene, causing the parents' to look around at him. "I heard her; she's awake! She's alive!"
Linda did not say a word; she leapt up, and ran over to the well, where she dropped to her knees and jammed the headphones on her head.
"Louise? Louise?!" she called desperately, holding her breath until she heard her daughter's voice. "Oh, thank God!" Linda visibly sagged in relief, buried her face in her hands and cried. Bob, who was kneeling next to her, cried as well, as she passed him the headphones.
The two of them remained there for the rest of the afternoon, taking turns listening to their daughter.
The fact that Louise was still alive seemed to give the rescue workers new hope, and they worked harder than ever before, determined to free the girl. The volunteers crowded around the rescue shaft, waiting for the digger's shift to be over, and when it was, they were unable to bring them up fast enough, so that they could swap over. They continued to strengthen and sharpen drill bits, and when it was their turn to go down into the tunnel, they dug with all of their might, although the process remained frustratingly slow.
Olsen Benner was standing in front of the camera, giving an impromptu news report.
"This is Olsen Benner, reporting live from Wharf Park. We have an update in the rescue attempt of Louise Belcher. Throughout most of the day, uh, the little girl has been silent, which has led people to fear the worst, but it has now been confirmed that Louise was only sleeping, and they can now hear her. She's still alive, and is now awake. Of course, uh, the drilling of the tunnel continues, but it is still unknown just how long it will be before she will be rescued." There wasn't anything more to say, and so the camera switched off. Nathan had instructed her to call Louise names like "the little girl," "the child," and "the young girl," in order to garner sympathy, and so that's what she
was doing. Almost as soon as she had finished, she received a phone call from Nathan asking her to get one of the rescuers to do a live interview shortly. Olsen replied that she would see what she could do, and ventured into the park, making inquiries.
Linda and Bob were still sat by the well, sharing the headphones. They wouldn't let anyone else use them, barring Gene and Tina, of course. Their other children were sat on the camp chairs, with Teddy and Mort either side of them. Carol remained nearby, talking to Davis.
Bob was holding his wife's hand tightly, as she held the microphone, trembling slightly.
"It's okay, honey," she called down into the darkness. "We're almost there; it won't be long, now. You'll be out soon, okay?" It upset her at how much she sounded like a broken record, but comforting her daughter was the only thing she could do for her, and she meant to do it. As long as they could hear Louise, then it meant that she was still alive.
Tim and Charlie did not ask them to move; after the scare they had all had, they couldn't ask these distraught parents to leave their child. Comforting Louise seemed to calm them down, and they were sure that Louise appreciated it, so they allowed them to stay as long as they wanted.
Not long after Olsen's report, newsreader Valerie Hope was giving an update for the afternoon news on the television.
"Welcome to the six o'clock news, I'm Valerie Hope," she smiled into the camera. "Our top story; the ongoing rescue attempt of Louise Belcher. The nine-year-old girl has been trapped in a 14-inch well for over 96 hours now. She was pushed in on Friday evening, and since then, over two hundred volunteers have been working non stop to free her. We're live with one of the drillers now. Hello?" Viewers were then greeted with an image of a tired, dirty man with bags under his eyes. The driller, 28-year-old Kyle, was standing off to the side, looking into Olsen Benner's camera, an earpiece in his ear, covered by his dark hair.
"Yes, hello?" he asked, hearing a woman's voice in his ear.
"Hi, sir, we were wondering if you -"
"Hi." Naturally, being live, there was a slight audio delay.
"Hi, we were wondering what you can tell us about the rescue operation, and how it's going so far?"
"Well, we are still digging a tunnel to reach her; we have about seven inches of rock to go, so we're hoping it's gonna be soon."
"Could you try and answer the question on everybody's lips, which is 'what is taking so long'?"
"We were not prepared for the rock to be so hard; we didn't have the correct equipment at first." Kyle spoke as professionally as he could; he had never been on television before. Olsen had been helping, advising him to speak clearly and to not hesitate. It wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be.
"Can you explain what's going to happen when you reach the well?"
"As soon as we reach it, we're going to use something to remove the bricks; we have to do that carefully, and then we'll send the paramedics down to actually get her out."
"Why wait for the paramedics?" Valerie asked politely. "Why not one of you just pull her out?" That caught Kyle off guard. He didn't really know why they had to send down the paramedics. Louise had been down there for far too long; why waste time re-rigging somebody when whoever was down there could just reach in and pull her out?
"Well, uh, well the, uh, the paramedics are trained in this kinda thing; I mean, we're just here to dig, but they know what they're doing." Not the best answer, but it would do. Kyle made a mental note to speak to the paramedics later.
"Okay. Tell me, sir, how is Louise holding up? What's the atmosphere like over there?"
"Louise is still alive; she hasn't been talking much lately. We think she's been sleeping, and every so often, one of the officers by the well will keep calling and shouting down to her until she answers. Poor kid's probably exhausted, but we need her to keep communicating with us. The atmosphere is tense. The whole thing is just going far too slow for us. We're down there, working as hard and as fast as we can, and it feels like we're not getting anywhere. We all of us want to get her out, and the fact that's it's taking so long is like torture for us. We've been arguing and snapping at each other because we just feel so bad for that kid."
"What keeps you guys together? What makes you put aside the arguments and work with each other?"
"We think about Louise," said Kyle simply. "We think about her and what she must be going through. Once, a few of the guys were hungry and they were complaining, and then we remembered that Louise hasn't eaten in four days. It really puts things in perspective. If we get tired, we just think about Louise, and we work harder and faster."
"Okay. Well, thank you very much, Kyle, for your time, and we -"
"Thank you."
"We hope you can get her out very soon."
"We hope so, too," and thus Kyle's interview was concluded, and Valerie addressed the viewers once more.
"Of course, another reason the rescue is taking so long is the fact that they don't want another cave-in. When Louise first fell in the well, a cave-in occurred when she landed at the bottom, leaving her buried in rubble up to her chest. So, the rescue tunnel was dug six feet away, to prevent another one from happening.
"The policemen, firemen, and the volunteers are saying that even though they've spent four days digging, if anyone has any quicker suggestions on how to get Louise out, they urge you to get in touch. However, one idea they have firmly vetoed is putting anybody else down into the well, as that would mean removing the oxygen lines being given to Louise, and putting her at risk of suffocation.
"Now Janet has your weather report, and after the latest sports updates, we will be talking to the doctor on site. Stay tuned."
Tina and Gene now felt slightly relieved, now that they knew Louise was still alive. They was still worried, and would remain that way until their sister was free, which could not come soon enough.
They were sat with Teddy and Carol, watching their parents sit by the well.
The men surrounding the tunnel wore mixed expressions of happiness and apprehension. The air between the workers was still extremely tense, but right now they were too busy focusing on the fact that Louise was still alive to argue about who was going down to dig next.
The neighbours, kids from school, and other curious onlookers were still pressed up behind the barriers, amongst the reporters; Olsen and Ed were the only ones lucky enough to be near the well, and they stood off to the side, waiting.
The policemen on duty hung around the edges of the park, trying to prevent reporters from getting too close while simultaneously watching the rescue effort; the firemen crowded around the well and the rescue shaft, two of them helping Cabell monitor the amount of oxygen and warm air being given to Louise, exchanging the old tanks for new; the rest of the volunteers were standing around the flat-bed truck, continuing to mend and sharpen the pick axes.
Everyone's eyes remained on the small hole in the centre of all this chaos; the sight of the well with the wire and hoses snaking down into it reminded everyone of what they were fighting for.
After a while, Bob came back over and sat with his children, while Linda remained by the well, still wearing the headphones.
"She.. doesn't wanna leave," said Bob after a while. "She wants to stay with her." The kids' did not reply. There was nothing they could say. Even though they had the good news that Louise was alive, the atmosphere was still very tense and sombre. Sometimes, Tina could hardly believe that what was happening was real. It seemed like a bad dream, or an overly dramatic television movie, where unrealistic scenes kept being forced upon them, no matter how ridiculous they were. But this was real, and it was so scary. If she were writing this as a story, she wouldn't have allowed this to happen.
"Is Louise scared?" asked Gene after a while in a small voice.
"Probably," said Bob, although he felt certain that Louise was scared; it was not something he wanted to think about. The fact that he was unable to do anything for his frightened child felt as though he were being continually punched in the gut. "Why?"
"Because she hasn't been talking much lately." Of course, they knew why; the longer Louise remained in the well, the weaker and more dehydrated she became; after a while, talking would require energy that she just did not have.
"I guess she's pretty tired," Bob told his son, trying to keep his voice even.
"Why doesn't she sleep?" asked Gene, which only brought up more scenarios that the family did not really want to think of. Perhaps Louise wasn't sleeping because she was too scared; perhaps the noise from the drilling was too loud, or perhaps she simply was unable to in her current position.
"I don't know," Bob said honestly, while Tina was silently willing Gene to fall quiet. "She's just woken up; maybe she's not tired right now."
"I just wanna know if Louise is okay," he whispered after a while, looking at the ground. Bob looked down at his son, before pulling him onto his lap.
"The truth is... we don't know," he said quietly, his voice cracking slightly. "We know she's alive, and that's good news, but that's all we know."
"But she'll be okay when they get her out, right?" Gene looked up at his frazzled father.
"We don't that, either," Bob admitted, deciding to just tell his son the truth. "She could be in any condition down there."
"Can we be there when they bring her up? I want to see her," said Gene.
"'Course you can," said Bob, unable to stop a tear rolling down his cheek. "We'll all be there, and we'll be the first people Louise sees when she comes up."
"Don't cry, Dad, they'll get her," said Gene innocently, wiping the stray tear away from his father's face.
"I know they will," Bob was unable to stop more tears from falling. "I know they will; I just want her now."
"Me, too," Gene was welling up, and he wrapped his arms around Bob's neck, hugging him tightly, and both of them crying.
Tina was fighting back tears; she was determined not to cry. It was very emotional, and Tina felt close to tears, but she wouldn't cry. She had this strange paranoia that crying would be inviting the worst to happen, and so she concentrated on keeping her dry eyes focused on the well.
Over by the ambulance, Olsen was fitting Dr. Cabell with an earpiece in preparation for his interview.
"Just remember to speak clearly," she told him, as Ed raised his camera, "and you'll be fine. I'll cue you in when it's about to start."
"Okay," Cabell nodded, looking into the camera.
Valerie Hope, in an update for the 6:30 news slot, smiled into the camera.
"Good evening, everyone. I'm Valerie Hope. We're live now with Dr. Cabell, a physician who has been monitoring Louise Belcher ever since Friday. Doctor, can you tell us anything new, either about the rescue operation or Louise's condition?"
"Well, the drillers are still digging, Louise is still alive, and we're just hoping they can get to her very soon."
"Do you have any concerns about Louise, being stuck in that well?" Cabell took a deep breath.
"I am overly concerned. I'm not sure if Louise has sustained any major injuries; she hasn't been talking lately, and she doesn't sound like she's in any pain, but she sounds exhausted. If she were bleeding, she would have bled out already. However, as she's trapped under rubble, there is the possibility of organ damage. Louise told us her back hurts, so she could potentially have a spinal injury. Right now, my biggest worries are dehydration and her breathing; she's breathing quite quickly. We've given her water, but not too much, in case of internal injuries. I've already given the paramedics strict instructions, that when they get her out, to not treat her in the tunnel. Just get her above ground, so we can get her in the ambulance and to the hospital. I don't want to waste any time."
"You said that she'd had water, but only a little bit?" Valerie confirmed.
"Yeah, we don't want to complicate any internal injuries she may have; we don't know what injuries she has; we won't know until she's out."
"Okay, thank you very much."
"Thank you, ma'am," said Cabell, and Olsen held up her finger briefly before telling him he was finished.
"Okay, cut! That was great, thank you, doctor," she grinned. Cabell smiled back, before heading back over to the well.
"As Dr. Cabell has mentioned," Valerie continued for the viewers at home, "it is still unknown what sort of injuries the little girl has, and organ damage is quite possible. Hopefully, it will not be too long until she is freed. Keep tuning for regular live updates on the rescue progress."
A group of the dishevelled diggers stood around the rescue shaft, as one volunteer did his best to break through the rock.
Kyle, the man who had been interviewed, was talking to them.
"So, I was talking to that lady, just answering her questions, and she asks me, why can't one of us get Louise out? Think about it, whoever breaks through, just pulls the bricks out, and grabs her."
"Well, what did you tell her?" asked Martin.
"The question kinda stumped me; I kinda stuttered over it. But it's true, right? Why waste time with the paramedics, when one of us could just do it?"
"Didn't the doctor say she could have a back injury?" said Joe. "That's probably why they want the medics down there."
"I get that, I get what you're saying, but I really think that it wouldn't be a big deal if one of us got her out."
Martin managed to catch the attention of Patrick, and beckoned him over. "Hey, do you think it would be a good idea if whoever broke through to the well, got Louise out?" he asked, and Patrick looked shocked.
"That would be terrible," he said.
"But why?" asked Kyle. "She needs to get out of there."
"I know, but, no offence, you guys don't have training. We're gonna have to do this carefully. If you pull her the wrong way, you could break her spine. If the nerves that control her breathing are severed, she could die." Upon hearing that, the group of men fell silent. That was all they needed to hear.
"Well.. thanks, man. We'll, uh, leave that up to you, then," said Kyle quietly, and Patrick only nodded before walking away.
Bob returned to the well and sat down, placing his arm around Linda's shoulders. Neither of them spoke; she merely passed him the headphones, and Bob put them on.
"Louise?" he called down the well, hearing nothing. "Louise?" he called again when he got no answer, trying not to worry.
"You have to... call her a few times," said Linda, her voice thick. "She's trying so hard," she bit her lip, trying to hold in the tears. Bob nodded, trying to keep from crying himself, and continued to call down to his daughter. Soon enough, he heard a faint little noise, and he sighed in relief, a few tears falling down his cheeks. "Don't cry," Linda said quietly. "Don't cry; everything's gonna be fine." That was what she kept telling herself; she refused to believe the worst, because if she did, then what was the point of carrying on?
"I know it is," Bob tried his best to think positively. "But I just want her out."
"So do I, but she'll be out tonight; you wait and see."
Bob and Linda remained seated by the well, taking turns to listen and talk to Louise, sharing the headphones between them, while Gene and Tina sat together with Teddy, Mort, and Carol.
Louise was still alive, but she was growing weaker and weaker. She could only make the faintest sounds and she sounded so utterly exhausted. She no longer whimpered, but she kept breathing heavily, as though she was out of breath, or as though she was too tired to cry.
Linda felt awful for making Louise answer her, but it was their only way of making sure that she was still alive. At times, Tim or Charlie would lower the microphone down even further to try to hear her breathing without them having to call her.
Now, what seemed like every household in New Jersey was glued to their televisions, tuned in to the drama at Wharf Park, Seymour's Bay. A lot of this interest was outrage at the amount of time the rescue was taking. Many thought that it was getting beyond a joke, and that this all should have ended days ago.
The national news were all over the story; many major newspapers featured the ongoing rescue as a cover story, while the rest of the reporters from out of state kept their viewers interested by drawing attention to the fact that a young girl was struggling to stay alive, and at how long it was taking to save her.
Another thing which kept the story in the news was the fact that Louise was still alive, which caused even more disbelief. Viewers from over New Jersey and beyond wondered how it was possible that Louise was still alive; she had had no food for four days. Again, it was just the sort of drama that the press loved.
"I cannot believe she's still alive; she's a fighter," said one mother, as she and her friends sat in her comfortable home just outside of Seymour's Bay, watching the news reports.
"I know," said her friends. "Such a brave little girl," and the rest of the ladies nodded in agreement.
"She must have been put on this Earth for a reason," one elderly man said to his wife as they heard a radio blurb whilst out shopping in Cumberland.
"How the hell is she still alive?!" a group of men were shouting as they stood around the water cooler in Galloway.
"I can't believe she's still down there. Poor kid," said a wife to her husband over dinner in New York.
"Yeah," he agreed. "If they get her out in time, she's gonna need a lot of help."
"Are they actually gonna get her out, or just stand around and talk about it?" one young man said sarcastically, as he sat in a bar in Oklahoma.
Bob tried not to get his hopes up, but he couldn't help thinking that Louise could be out of the well before the day was out. He and Linda had finally moved away, so they could sit with Gene and Tina for a while. They had around eight inches of rock to go until they reached her, and hearing that made his heart leap. It couldn't take much longer, it had to be soon. Carol was standing next to them, having just told them this information.
"I'm gonna go talk to Louise," said Gene after moment, making his way over to the well.
"Can't wait to see her," Linda sounded strained, but she kept her voice even. "I wanna ride in the ambulance with her, in the back."
"Oh, well, it might be a bit crowded -"
"I don't care; I want to be with her. I'm her mother."
"I know ma'am, but your doctor is going to be in the back, and it's likely that the paramedic will be in the back, too. There just won't be enough room."
"Well, then, the paramedic can ride up front!" Linda said, glancing over at the well, where Gene was sat with the headphones over his ears.
"Well, I'll speak to the Chief; see what I can do, but I don't think they'll allow it," Carol warned before walking away.
"I just wanna be there with her," Linda turned to Bob.
"So do I," said Bob. "I can't wait for all of this to be over. The sooner, the better."
Against all odds, the family began to feel a glimmer of hope. Louise, miraculously, was still alive, and they were close to reaching her. Even though they were all still very anxious, the thought that Louise could be rescued before the day was out made their hearts leap a tiny bit. There was still that worry hanging over them; any second bad news could come, and although none of them would admit it, each family member felt uneasy about getting their hopes up.
The only way they would be able to breathe again would be to see Louise brought up from the well, alive. Nothing else would do.
It was now 10pm. Louise had been in the well for 100 hours. The rescue workers still had five inches of rock to go, but at that moment, Bob and Linda were preparing to take Gene and Tina home, so that they could get some sleep.
"No, we wanna stay here!" cried Gene, as he and his sister were escorted by their parents and Carol to a police car.
"Gene, you need to get some sleep; you're both exhausted," Bob told him, pointing out the bags under his children's eyes.
"Well, what about you? Those aren't bags under your eyes; those are suitcases!" Gene cried, and Bob chuckled, in spite of himself.
"I'm a grown-up; I'm supposed to have them," he said, ushering his children into the car, before climbing in himself. He and Linda had already decided that they were going to return to the well site once Gene and Tina were asleep.
As the car set off, the Belcher kids continued to complain.
"But, Mom, they're so close! It could happen tonight!" said Tina, leaning forward so she could see her mother.
"I know, sweetie, and when they reach her, they'll come get us," said Linda patiently. "We won't miss them bringing her up, okay?"
"You promise?"
"I promise."
Once the children were in bed asleep, Bob and Linda prepared to go back out. Carol was waiting for them in the hallway.
Naturally, the parents hadn't been too concerned about themselves over the past couple of days, and Bob and Linda took the opportunity to freshen up a tiny bit. She brushed her wild hair, and put on deodorant, while Bob hurriedly brushed his teeth, as he could swear his were growing moss.
They both went into the living room, where the phone was charging. Linda had only sat down for a micro-second, to re-tie her shoe, before she had fallen asleep.
Bob momentarily considered leaving her there, before deciding against it. He knew she wanted to be there with Louise, just as he did. He wouldn't have wanted her to leave him asleep, and so he bent down to wake her up.
Carol entered the living room to find both parents sleeping on the sofa. She thought about waking them up, but they looked so exhausted, that she decided to leave them be.
Heading quietly down the stairs, Carol closed the front door softly, before heading back to Wharf Park.
~ X ~
So, what did you think?
I have the next chapter all written out, so if you want, I could upload earlier? Let me know!