"Nine gold rings" Ch06 – "A good day to be out on the water"
A little "what if", inspired by Season One, this AU story explores some plausible (if not-publicly-canon) moves on the "pairings" front in mid-season, beginning in the spring of 1996 then moving forward. No links to my other stories as at August 2021.
A/N: "they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them - apart from any character created by myself". See Ch01 for all the disclaimers.
Summary: this is a fictional story, in a fictional (slightly) Alternative Universe, about fictional characters who entertained us in a fictional TV series between 1995 and 2005. Comments and PMs and suggestions are most welcome. All mistakes are mine. Mike
Canon: Canon Episode: RL 09-11-2001
A/N: 22-JAN-2022. A reminder of how survival – or the alternative – can hinge upon the most random of choices. A take on the day which shook America.
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23/01/2022: Note: A short chapter for January, setting the scene for a busy day on Staten Island.
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Tuesday 11th September 2001, 06:43hrs EDT
Suite 1509, Marriott World Trade Centre, 3 World Trade Centre, Manhattan, New York NY USA
When one looks back on one's life, there are usually a number of memorable events – or even fleeting moments – when one realises that life could have "gone either way".
Such a moment occurred in the lives of the Boone family on the second Tuesday in September 2001.
After her sudden sickness on the Monday, Thomasina had fallen asleep early on the Monday evening and had slept right through the night. Her sleeping pattern had been a joy for her parents and had settled even before her second birthday in the June of 2001.
The Monday night undisturbed sleep meant that a fully-recharged two-year-old dynamo was running into the second bedroom of the suite and launching herself onto Alison and Tom's bed well before 7AM - some 90 minutes before her parents had planned to wake up on the fourth day of their NYC vacation...
Tom staggered to the windows and peeked out through the curtains.
"Alison, it looks like a lovely day; shall we get started earlier than we intended today?"
Alison was arranging little Harm's first morning feed, so she simply looked at Tom through the curtain of her unrestrained blonde hair, nodded and then issued her first instruction of the day.
"Yes, but with coffee, now – please, darling."
Tom nodded, popped a mock-salute in his wife's direction and then set about getting the coffee machine under way in the kitchen area. Thomasina's day began with a glass of milk. Alison set about continuing with feeding little Harm.
Even allowing for Alison and Tom's shared routine of preparing little Harm for the day and dressing Thomasina, only one hour had passed when the the Boone family was settling into the breakfast room of the hotel by 0745. By 0825, the concierge was summoning a cab for the short ride south to the Whitehall Terminal of the Staten Island Ferry, where the 0845AM departure for St George would set off right on schedule.
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Tuesday 11th September 2001, 08:46hrs EDT
Whitehall Ferry Terminal: 4 Whitehall St, New York, NY 10004, United States
Tom and Alison had marvelled at the energetic floods of New Yorkers swarming off the incoming ferries and heading away northwards into subways and buses – all part of the civilian merchant army which gave heart and life to "the Big Apple" and especially the Financial District anchored around the World Trade Centre.
The normal Tuesday morning "organised chaos" was continuing as it had done for decades. The terminal was partway through a comprehensive rebuild (which would be completed by 2005).
The Boone family were heading for a morning out on the water, with a diversion later to Liberty Island. Although neither of their children had the stamina to climb up the inside of the Statue, both Tom and Alison wanted their offspring to experience New York and gain a slight taste of the rich inventory of historical sites which abounded in the five borough areas which had united in 1898 to form "New York City".
The scheduled 25-minute journey across to Staten Island provided Tom and Allison (carefully supervising their children) with a panoramic view back towards the skyline of Lower Manhattan. The noisy commencement of their journey (the first noisy minutes of their journey in and around the terminal as the ferryboat's propulsion system got the vessel under way) had steadily faded away into the periodic splash of the bow wave as it washed up the side of the hull. About a minute or so into the journey, Tom thought that he heard a distant "thud".
Tom's plan for Staten Island was to make the short walk south from the ferry terminal to visit the national Lighthouse Museum, a site which had caught his eye some years earlier. As an historical site, it was a good place to sow the seeds of an interest in history for his daughter. Alison's parents, back in Cabot Cove days, had always emphasised to her that "it is never too early to start learning".
With their day's supplies in a pair of backpacks and with the stroller holding little Harm whilst Thomasina walked alongside, the journey from the ferry would be quite short – well inside the endurance of little legs which had only recently passed their second birthday. Tom's backpack acted as a travelling seat for Thomasina – she would ride when the time came and her legs became tired, looking out over her father's head.
Alison parked the stroller sideways, so that little Harm could see her, then took Tom's arm as they looked back from the stern, along the wake of the ferry to the Manhattan skyline. She rested her head briefly on his shoulder in a sign of companionship. Thomasina and little Harm looked up at their parents, sharing in the love.
Looking to the north, Tom's attention was drawn to the left-hand twin tower of the WTC (the one surmounted by the huge white aerial) which stood behind the closer south tower and to the left from their viewpoint. There seemed to be a growing plume of smoke from the right-hand side of the tower. Some kind of distant fire appeared to be gaining strength by the minute as the clock ticked closer to the top of the hour.
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Tuesday 11th September 2001, 09:02hrs EDT
Aboard the Staten Island Ferry, southbound, New York Harbour, New York NY USA
When Alison looked around, Tom also heard the noise of jet engines roaring as the United Airlines 767 roared in across the water.
"Is he looking to ditch?" was the fleeting thought which passed through Tom's mind as he watched the trajectory of the huge airliner. It seemed to be lining up on the South Tower, before burrowing into the south face of the WTC tower and disappearing inside the shell of the building. Moments later, a huge plume of black smoke and flames erupted out of the rear right-hand side of the building.
Tom and Alison looked at each other in shock.
Just one thought ran through their minds: "We could have been there for breakfast!"
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Tuesday 11th September 2001, 09:59hrs EDT
Staten Island Ferry terminal, 1 Bay St, Staten Island, NY 10301, United States
Once the ferryboat had disembarked the passenger load, the few passengers who still wanted to venture northwards (to the growing scene of devastation, fire, smoke and blizzards of what looked like paper spewing out into the Manhattan air) had embarked and the boat set off. Most people simply stood and watched, disbelieving, the scene of growing devastation to the north.
Tom and Alison had continued to watch the distant scene of devastation for some 45 minutes, as the distant sound of sirens drifted across the water. Eventually Alison turned to her husband. "Darling, what the hell was that all about?" Alison was comforting little Harm whilst Tom had sat Thomasina on his knee as the Boone family rested on a park bench a little way back from the water front.
He had pulled out a small pair of travelling binoculars and was examining the unfolding scene across the water. Suddenly his face grew pale and he lowered the binoculars.
"Honey, I think we might be over here for the night – that looks like a bad fire and, remember, our hotel is right at the foot of the tower. I guess the fire department will have a cordon around the site for some time whilst they fight that fire; it has to be a dozen of more floors involved."
Smoke was continuing to climb up the side of the South Tower and drift away to the southeast. Fortunately, Staten Island is to the southwest of Manhattan.
Alison reached across for the binoculars, but Tom shook his head. He leaned in to whisper in her ear: "I think I've seen people jumping from the floors above the impact zone; that cannot be good."
She reached across once more, squeezing his hand. "Good call, husband. I guess we cannot even think about how long the fire will burn…"
She had barely finished the sentence when the South Tower buckled and began its inexorable descent to the ground, swallowed up by a huge cloud of billowing smoke and dust. Some seconds passed before the sound reached them across the water. That triggered a second thought: "Hang on, where is our hotel?"
"Oh crap!" he whispered under his breath. He turned to look at Alison. "This is now serious, honey. I think we should line up a guest house for tonight."
A/N: the collapse of the first tower cleaved the WTC Marriott in half. The subsequent collapse of the North Tower near-enough levelled everything which had survived the first impact; and yet the dedicated Marriott staff had helped to achieve an efficient evacuation that day, implementing long-rehearsed emergency drills.
She looked at him, gathering little Harm to her. "Good call, Tom. What's on the map?"
Tom had picked up a guide to State Island from the tourist info display in the Reception area of the Marriott the previous evening as they had started planning their trip across on the ferry.
"Nothing marked – hey, there is a hospital over there; shall we go and give blood?"
"That sounds like a smart move, but we *will* need to find shelter for tonight."
"OK – agreed." He looked down at little Thomasina. "Time to fly on Daddy's back, munchkin?"
"Yeth pleathe" she replied, reaching up her arms. She was soon settled in the backpack seat as Alison strapped little Harm back into the stroller and they prepared to walk deeper onto Staten Island.
A/N: over on the southern end of Manhattan Island, the Whitehall Ferry Terminal was being turned into a rudimentary triage centre.
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Tuesday 11th September 2001, 10:25hrs EDT
Medical Center; Staten Island Ferry terminal, 1 Bay St, Staten Island, NY 10301, USA
Tom and Alison walked to the medical centre alongside the St George Ferry Terminal, produced their military ID and asked one simple question: "How may we help?"
They were directed to the Richmond Memorial Hospital site, two miles away at 355 Bard Avenue, heading almost due-west. They were just getting into the taxi when a second distant rumble echoed across the water. Turning around, they caught the final seconds of the fall of the second (North) WTC tower. The surreal image of the tall white radio mast, wobbling as it sank into the debris cloud, would remain with them.
Tom and Alison looked at each other, both struck by the same thought of what they had originally planned for that morning.
Alison knew that she would be searching out a church later, to give thanks.
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From that day forth, Tom and Alison would never criticise Thomasina – or little Harm – if they ever woke their mom and dad early.
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Tuesday 11th September 2001, 11:43hrs EDT
Richmond University Medical Center, 355 Bard Ave, Staten Island, NY 10310, United States
Fortunately, the notice board in the public area of the hospital gave information and details of accommodation nearby. Heading to a payphone (cell-phone coverage was intermittent), Alison made contact and agreed a two-night stay at a guest house just around the corner. With the rapidly-growing delays in processing the volunteer blood donors already stretching past 30 minutes, she quickly agreed to leave Tom in charge of their children and ran to the guest house. She identified herself, explained the situation (the TV screen in the corner of the living room was already showing slow-motion images of the WTC collapse on a loop) and paid for two nights.
She was happy - "Momma-Bear duty discharged". The Krennick-Boone tribe would not be homeless on the Tuesday and Wednesday nights. Thursday would be another day.
Then, she ran back to the hospital. Her post-pregnancy exercises had borne fruit that morning; she wasn't even breathing heavily when she picked up little Harm from Tom as the adults prepared to give blood.
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A/N: views, reviews, suggested next steps via PM please?
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End of "Nine gold rings" Ch06 – "A good day to be out on the water"
Mike, United Kingdom, 23-01-2022