I'm pretty sure I don't owe Nelly jack, but I don't argue. It can only be to my benefit if she wants to think that I'm in her debt. Maybe she'll underestimate me and I can use it to my advantage. Until then, all I can do is blend into everyday life in O-town.
In the next few days, Lola takes me to each level of the hydroponic farm. There are three or four other people – mostly senior citizens – working in each room to maintain the crops, but she sticks with me and eventually explains what everything is and how to take care of all the different plants. The setup on the sixth - and thereby top - floor is the coolest because opposed to the other table-top gardens, these are laid out in vertical columns of planters reaching from the floor to the ceiling. I'm told that they're more suited for the plants that like to creep upward or would otherwise benefit from not being crowded on a flat surface. Although like this the gardeners can squeeze more crops into a smaller space, the setup looks more complicated because it makes it necessary for the artificial lighting to be located on the sides. Maintaining the plants also has to be done mostly from ladders, which means that the workers here are somewhat younger than on the other floors.
Lola's more excited today than usual because a crop of strawberries is ready to be harvested. We decide to tackle a column as a team; I work from the ground, while she climbs a ladder to collect the sweet fruit into her bucket.
"Are you sure you can manage up there, kiddo?" I watch her dangle precariously from a rung five feet above the ground.
"Sure, I do this all the time. Don't worry, Will." She smiles back at me.
The work's easy, but monotonous. After about two hours, I get so hungry that I seriously consider digging into the contents of my basket in spite of Lola's constant watch over me. She's warned me several times about telling her dad on me, but I'm almost at the point where I'll even risk the wrath of Governor Bradford for another taste.
"Can we go get something to eat?" I put my full bucket on a cart with dozens of others we've already filled.
"Let me get just these up at the top and--," I hear her reply from behind a column, but a low grumbling and the vibration of the floor interrupt her.
"Earthquake!" someone yells, but not knowing how to react, I just freeze. When the heavy cart rolls down the aisle past me, I at least realize what we shouldn't be doing.
"Lola! Get down off the ladder!" I run toward her, hoping she's already started her descent. The shaking stops even before I get to her, but I'm too late to stop the cart from hitting the eight foot tall, industrial grow light that was next to the planter she was working on.
I watch helplessly as the massive piece of equipment slowly tips away from me, heading straight at the wall-sized glass window. Because the cart and the light are blocking my way, I round the column hoping to get to Lola in time. The screeching of metal, a loud thud, and Lola's unmistakable scream tell me that I don't.
"Hang on! I'm coming," I reply, but by then it's too late.
The grow light has hit the glass, cracking it into a million pieces. Luckily, the pane was made in such a way that it doesn't shatter; however, I can see rays of sunlight seeping through the edges. Damn, the entire window can fall out any second!
Everything's happening so fast that Lola's only been able to come down just a few steps, but she's still on the ladder, frantically holding on to the edges. A brief glimmer of hope flashes across her face when she sees me standing next to her, but before I can grab her, another small tremor dislodges the window from its casing, makes the column of strawberries tip, and knocks the ladder - with Lola still perched on top of it - out the gaping hole right in front of my eyes.
"Lolaaaaa!" I instinctively run to the window. Pushing my way past the column of strawberries that's come to a rest across the sill, I exhale with relief when I see that the ladder's been wedged under it and the little girl is still hanging on.
"Will, help!" she yells frantically, dangling in the sunlight.
By now, the three others who are also in the room with us have reached the window, as well. However, I can see that they're purposefully staying back, away from the light.
Wiiiilll! Help!
"Come! Help me!" I motion toward the others. "We need to drag her back in before she gets burned."
But the middle-aged men just look at me with blank expressions, their feet rooted to the floor.
"I said help me!" I step back and shake one by the shoulders.
He finally seems to snap out of his stupor. "Yeah, right. I'm going to go get the governor," he says before running away.
I can't believe it, but Lola's screams continue and I know that we have to get to her quickly.
"Fine. You, find something flat. Anything," I say to the other man. "A light board. A sheet or tarp."
He disappears behind a row of strawberries and I hope that he is doing what I asked.
I'm burning! Will. Where are you?
"I'm coming, Lola. Hold on."
I return to the window, but when I see that the ladder is only being held from falling five stories onto the canopy of the entranceway by the counterweight of the planter stack, all of my thoughts about my own well-being disappear. She's only about two feet out, but I can't reach her from inside the building. I know that I need to climb out to reach the girl, but I don't know if this setup can hold both of us.
I can't hold on, Will!
"What's your name?" I ask the remaining man, who's still staring motionlessly at us.
"Uhm. Tom."
Aaaah. My hands are slipping!
"Okay, Tom. This is what I need you to do. Climb on to that planter. Put your entire weight on it so that it can't move. I'll go out and get her, okay?"
"Yeah, I think so." He gets on the end of the planter, crushing a half dozen strawberry plants in the process.
"Is this okay?" the other's returned with a red bag labeled "fire blanket". I take the heavy material out and fold it into thirds length-wise.
"Excellent. Now, stay close by because I'll need you to pull us back in."
The ladder is lying on its side, and I throw the blanket over the top half that is hanging out the window. Careful not to throw it off balance, I slowly straddle the leg not under the planter and then lower myself onto my stomach. Fully exposed to the sun, I can feel the skin on my back that's covered by clothes becoming warmer within seconds.
Lola's been out here minutes longer and now that I'm this much closer, I can see that her little fingers are blistering and beginning to slip from the rung.
Don't look down. Don't look down, I tell myself, but her legs dangling above the void draw my attention and I have to force myself to not think about the possibility that I can't get to her in time.
With the top half of my body lying on the ladder outside of the building, I reach out toward her. Damn. She's still a few inches too far. No big deal. It's not that far down. I can do this. Slowly scooting outward, I can feel the contraption holding us teeter. Oh, boy.
I stretch my arms as far as I can and grab her wrists.
"I've got you, but I need to pull you back in. You're going to have to let go, Lola," I instruct her. "On three, okay?"
"Okay," she says between sobs.
"One, two, three," I feel all of her weight press my body into the thin piece of metal below me. "You can start pulling us back in. Grab the blanket, but go slow," I instruct and with Lola at least partially secure in my hands, I focus more on what's going on inside the building.
Hearing an increased commotion behind me, I now realize that at least half a dozen others have gathered around the window. When my body's far enough in that my feet are touching the floor, several hands reach across me from one side and grab Lola, who's still hanging next to the building.
As soon as I no longer have to support her weight, I must lose consciousness because the next thing I know, I'm waking up in what looks to be a hospital. Ellen tells me that a whole week has passed by. My hands are still covered in bandages and as I try to talk, I can feel the skin on my face tighten. But still, the first thing on my mind is the little girl.
"She's got second degree burns like you, but she'll be okay," Ellen tells me. "She's a tough kid."
That's all I need to hear and I drift off once again. The next time I come to, I'm able to drink some water and stay lucid for a bit longer. Ellen tries to keep my attention by talking about her job in meteorology, but she makes no sense. "All we do all day is analyze historical weather data for the Eastern seaboard all the way up north to Labrador, and Nova Scotia," she says from the chair next to my bed.
I close my eyes and shake my head. "Why are they interested in dogs and Britain?"
My voice is hoarse from disuse, but I don't think that's why she giggles.
"Oh, Will. Not the dogs. Or Scotland. I'm talking about the provinces in Canada. Never mind. You're still too drugged up to get it."
"No. Keep talking. It's supposed to be cold in Canada, isn't it? Like, winter-gear cold?"
"More so than ever, actually if our data is correct. Technically speaking, it's cold in the summer and freaking cold in the winter."
"Is it habitable? Radiation-wise?" I ask.
"No idea. Casey's not too--" she begins, but I drift off again without hearing the rest. They keep me in the infirmary for another week, but I gradually spend more time awake than asleep. It probably means that they're reducing the sedatives that knocked me out, which is good since my pain is also getting more manageable.
Nelly and Ellen visit me several times each day - separately since they still haven't bonded even though I was unconscious - and pretty soon, I'm also well enough to be able to go over to Lola's bedside in the other room.
"See, Will? I knew that I needed to be thankful in my prayers for you! You saved my life," she beams, giving me a huge hug and I momentarily don't know how to hide the tear that wants to escape from my eye.
Before I'm discharged, I get an unexpected visitor in the form of Bradford. He brings Juanita with him, which I guess makes sense since she's Lola's mom. They're both highly appreciative for what I did for their daughter, and although I try to brush them off saying that it was nothing, I can clearly see that they're sincere.
In a final move that's no doubt thanks to his wife, Bradford lifts the restrictions on me leaving the building, as long as I'm accompanied by someone other than my sister. It's still not the opportunity I need, but it's a start.