I shook my head. “I haven’t found her.”
“That’s her backpack.” He pointed behind me. “She had it on her lap. Is that it?”
Once more I turned and I saw the backpack. “Yeah, that’s it.” The strap rested on the head of a man that lay on his side. My foot twisted as I tried to step forward and I guess I nudged that man. He grunted, grabbed his head and crawled his way into a sitting position. When he sat up, he not only knocked over the backpack, but he exposed the fact that Lacey was behind him.
There was no blood on her face, it was remarkably clean, peaceful and almost ageless. Her coat was open and her shirt was saturated in blood. Lacey’s neck was purple and twisted.
I knew instantly she was gone.
No last words, no farewell. No dying breath saying, ‘tell my family I love them.’
Not a chance for any of that.
My friend had passed away, alone.
Although they radioed for help, a bus traveling south happened upon us. They took the injured, and since I was fine, I waited for the next one. Sitting there, numb, holding Lacey’s body until it was time to go.
I had to leave her. Abandon her body on the side of the road as if she were nothing. No burial, nothing to say, no goodbyes.
I felt as if I disrespected her.
Nothing really hit me until we arrived at the camp and were taken to the medical tent. That’s when I emotionally collapsed. I began sobbing and crying, sitting there holding her belongings against my chest. Waiting on word about Del who was rushed into emergency surgery.
What happened? My mind took me to a conversation when Lacey talked to me about what happened when the tram crashed that day. Like me, she saw it coming. The trouble coming her way until impact. Everything she had described was eerily similar to the bus crash.
I couldn’t help but wonder if somehow Lacey was supposed to die on that tram that day, but fate saved her for a greater purpose. What that was remained to be discovered. Perhaps it was to find me, guide me home, or maybe it was just to get peace to her family. Maybe one day I would know. Sitting there crying and waiting for news on Del, I glanced down to the notebook. Lacey was never without it, always writing in it.
What was it that she had to write on that bus?
Still cold, still shivering, she opened that notebook and jotted something down.
Hating to do so, I opened it up and read what she had written.
Her last entries…
Davis, Jana, Ev
This is the hardest letter I have ever written. I don’t know if you will even read this. If not, I hope you know I tried. My fingers are numb and I don’t know how much I will able to write. Please know I tried with everything I had to be with you, to find you. Sometimes it is out of our control. Things were going well for us. We’ve reached the end of the line. At least I found out that you were fine. I believe you will be fine. I know you will do the best you can with the world you have before you. I love you all with my heart and soul. I am so proud of all of you. I leave this world full of love.
Mom
Just a note–
I wrote the previous entry when I believed we weren’t going to make it. I was wrong. We were saved. Keep that flag where I can see it. I will find you. I’m not dying after all.
But she did. Underneath her final entry I placed the date of her death, with my own note of thanks and that she would never be forgotten.
She had filled nearly every single page of that notebook. I remembered when I noticed how many pages she filled and how few she had left, I believed that when she finished the pages of the notebook her journey would be done.
Sadly, it was.
It broke my heart, all that she endured for the sake of finding her family, her life and plight ended too soon and so close.
It wasn’t fair. She never found them. They would never get to know all she did to be with them, how she felt.
Or would they?
I closed the notebook and looked at the picture of her family.
She didn’t find them… but I would.
If it took the rest of my life, I would find her family and give them that notebook. I would do so, or like Lacey, die trying.
Thirty-Three – Learning Lacey
The temperature in Norfolk was a balmy zero degrees. A lot warmer than it was several hundred miles north. While still cold, it was easier to keep a space warm.
I was issued a tent and bunk, but I didn’t go there. I couldn’t with a clean conscious leave the medical tent without knowing how Del’s surgery went.
His surgery was taking a long time. While sitting there waiting, I decided to start reading the notebook. Strangely, the first page was a different handwriting or maybe it was Lacey’s and she just got progressively worse with her penmanship. I started reading it and I realized not even Lacey was that mushy. It was a letter of sorts, more of a poem, telling some guy name Clark how much he was loved and the list of silly reasons why he was the perfect husband.
My curiosity as to why Lacey would leave it in the notebook was answered on the flip of a page. She got the notebook from a flight attendant named Amber. Actually, Lacey took a lot of things from Amber. She wrote a homage to her, and vowed if she ever ran into Amber’s family, she would let them know how Amber saved her life in a way. Lacey had taken refuge that first night out of the hole in a plane.
Tucked in that page were two photographs. The family looked magazine perfect. The husband was distinctive, good looking. She must have kept that picture in case she ever saw them.
Frequently, Lacey mentioned deceased strangers who in some way aided her. She always labeled it, ‘took part in saving my life’ and followed it with being forever grateful.
Sometimes she had a memento of them.
A few pages into the journal she mentioned a man named James Herron. She had taken his car and tucked in his page was his car registration and an unmailed, addressed greeting card she had removed from the glove compartment.
It was evident, in her mind, she was going to get out of the disaster zone and find the families of these people. She truly believed that a civilized and organized country awaited her emergence.
Lacey had no idea the world had pretty much come to a grinding halt.
Just as I wondered what she thought about our first meeting, I stopped. I was in mourning, I didn’t want to take a chance of interpreting it wrong.
Instead, I set my sights on the backpack.
What had she taken from her home?
Unzipping it exposed that bottle of Duke Bourbon. It was partially wrapped in an Ohio State t-shirt and surprisingly was unbroken. Even though I knew she took that for Davis, I would probably nurse it. After all, he left it behind.
Reaching inside, I pulled out a baggie. In it was a watch, wedding rings and an airline employee tag with the name Amber. All items she mentioned in her notebook that she wanted to return to Amber’s family.
There were a lot of photos in that bag along with odd items. Sippy straw, remote control, bottle opener and a VHS tape of an old Robert Downey Jr. movie. VHS? I didn’t even think anyone had them anymore. Lacey did. It meant something to her. Everything in that bag, one way or another meant something to her.
Everything I had seen and read painted a picture of a woman who placed sentimental value on everything. She cared and appreciated so much.
Little things I didn’t realize.
My expedition of learning Lacey ended shortly after I started, when a doctor brought news of Del. He was out of surgery, recovering, and would in time, heal.
Time being the key word. He was going to be placed on the next yellow ship out, but would go to a different camp. One that dealt with those who had special needs. It would be a while before Del could walk. All those who needed medical aid, went on a yellow ship.