Disclaimer: I don't own MASH. If I did, it would've been even slashier than it already was, if that's humanly possible.
Challenge: Response to Lisa's ABC challenge: Write a fic for every letter of the alphabet.
A/N: C, calamity. Radar's POV, purely because I suck at writing tension, and that's what's going on in the OR. This one is more of a drabble than the other two are. Oh, and one more brief note--I'm not sure about farming in the 50s, or in Iowa. I don't know whether a milkhouse would have been used, or whether that's common terminology or a term unique to my farming friend.
Calamity
I look up suddenly from milking Edna. "Uh-oh," I say to her. "You know what Edna, Hawkeye and B.J. are in trouble."
She doesn't say anything back--my animals never do, even though they gotta have stuff on their minds.
"Hawkeye thinks B.J.'s mad at him," I continue. "And B.J. can't do anything about it 'cause he's got a patient in OR that's keeping him busy. I hope he's okay," I add anxiously. "You know Edna, it seems like everything always goes wrong at the same time. There's trouble in Korea, and the well went dry, you know. It'll rain next week and fill it up some, but we'll have to be real careful on water for a few months. And Ester just died last week too."
I stop talking for a minute, out of respect for the dead hen.
"But our chicks'll grow up, and we'll have enough hens again," I say to Edna. I grin at her. "It'll all get better around here, you'll see."
I finish the milking and move the bucket. I start to take it to the milkhouse, and then I set it on the ground and run back to Edna.
"And Hawkeye and B.J. will be okay too," I say quickly. "It just might take a little while."
Edna looks at me and starts chewing her cud. I know that she's as relieved as I am.