Chapter 54
"Christmas Day in Lockerbie"
December 25th…Christmas Day, the day that marked the birth of Jesus, when the angel Gabriel proclaimed to the shepherds that the savior was born, when children discover whether or not Santa had left them presents or lumps of coal. But in Lockerbie, the scars of December 21st were continuing to heal. The human toll of the carnage when Pan Am 103 fell from the sky had been astronomical and 11 of its citizens were missing, mostly in the neighborhood where the crater was formed. I had already spent time with the cockpit of the Maid of the Seas, now Psyduck and I were going to the crater where the bulk of the Maid of the Seas had come down.
"Wow!" I gasped, looking at the enormous crater. "Are you sure that this is used to be a row of houses?"
"Yes," replied Farmer Jones. "This used to be a neighborhood, Sherwood Crescent. As you can see, three houses were destroyed."
Getting out of the truck, I made my way over to the crater and I got to the edge of the crater, being careful not to step in the dirt for fear of getting stuck. Psyduck stuck his wing in the dirt and felt it go deep into the crater. He then felt something that made him jump in shock.
"PSY!"
"Psyduck, what is it?" I asked and I stuck my hand in where Psyduck was touching and I felt a round hard object inside of it. "Mr. Jones, is there a police constable nearby?"
Sure enough, a police constable arrived on the scene having heard my cries. Bending down, he put on a glove and stuck his hand inside, grabbing the object and neither Psyduck nor I were prepared for what happened next.
"Oh my God!" I whispered, doing a sign of the cross. "That's a bone!"
Without saying a word, I watched as the constable took the bone away. It was a small bone, so it could be a finger bone or a toe bone or something of that nature. I then noticed that the crater expanded beyond the neighborhood that was Sherwood Crescent. It had extended to the highway next to the neighborhood. Obviously, the road was closed and this was a road that connected Scotland to England. Again, I found more debris and they weren't just bones.
"What is this?" I asked myself, bending down to pick up what appeared to be a paperback novel covered in dirt. Brushing it off, I saw that the book was a copy of "Gone with the Wind" by Margaret Mitchell. "This must have been from one of the houses."
Then there was more debris to be found: personal properties of the Sherwood Crescent residents that were mixed with debris from Pan Am 103. Sitting on the ground just a few feet away from me was something black and it had sequins on it. Picking it up, I could tell it was a knee length skirt judging from the fact that I personally owned one just like it. The skirt had been torn down the side and then a few feet further, Psyduck pulled out a soft looking gray scarf that had a leopard printing on it.
"Lucy?" called Farmer Jones, coming around to my location. "Lucy, there you are. What is this?"
"A black sequined knee length skirt," I sighed, opening it up. "Torn right down the side. Do you think this belongs to anyone in this area?"
"No," remarked Farmer Jones, taking the skirt and inspecting it. "Nobody in our town wears anything like this."
"Then it must have belonged to someone on the plane," I concluded, looking over towards one of the severely damaged houses, with the roof completely torn off. I don't know how, but I suddenly felt a sudden urge to go over to the house.
Stepping over to the house, I went inside and I could see that furniture was incinerated, pictures were burnt to a crisp and it seemed like nothing would have survived…but then…
"No way!" I cried, walking over to what appeared to be a small doll, completely untouched by fire of any kind. The doll was one of those cabbage patch dolls that were really big in the 1980's. "How did it survive?"
"I know who that doll belonged to," Farmer Jones said sadly, walking over to me. "That's young Joanne Flanigan's doll. Early Christmas present from her mum and dad."
"You know them?"
"Knew them," answered Farmer Jones as we then looked over to what appeared to be a tiny gold star amongst the dirt and debris. "I had actually called them a half hour before the plane crashed here. Such a pity. Thomas and Kathy were also home at the time. Just about to start dinner like they always did every night."
Bending down, Farmer Jones picked up the gold star and together, we left the house and then proceeded to the next house over. This house was smaller, but whoever lived in here probably had a quick death.
"This is Mary's house," said Farmer Jones. "Such a lass, lived here alone since her husband died 28 years ago. At least she's with him in paradise now."
We then looked down and saw what appeared to be a pair of gold framed glasses with one of the frames broken and cracked.
"I actually used to deliver eggs and milk to this neighborhood for many years, Lucy," sighed Farmer Jones. "I knew them all. I knew them all."
What was sad to me was that these people weren't even Pokemon trainers of any kind. They were families, retirees, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, cousins, you name it. They didn't deserve this in any form, especially on a day like today.
And this article of clothing, this torn black sequin skirt that likely came from a passenger on the plane, came to symbolize the fact that this town, the victims families and friends were all torn in half thanks to Team Rocket.
But surely there had to be someone in this town who still had to make the best of a bad situation and still celebrate Christmas?
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