FINDING THE LOST - Jeanne Tody Beroza (the rosie project txt) 📗

should never be dependent only upon your sight. You know, I think that maybe the more you follow your insights the better you might get at being able to use them.”

“Well, I’ve got to get back and knuckle down.” Jana was an artist selling her work throughout the hills. “The galleries are asking for new pieces. I’ve got enough made but if I don’t get things delivered, I won’t sell anything and then I don’t get paid. Have you got appointments lined up today?”

“I do,” Cristi answered. “I’ve got a new client with MS coming at two and then later a client with cancer that I’ve been seeing for several months. I’m working with both as part of their long-term, pain management programs. I’ve been using a combination of massage and energy work with both of them.”

Jana could hear the excitement in her friend’s voice when she talked about her work. “Is what you’re doing able to help them? You like working with sick people?”

“It is. I like helping people cope with serious illness and treating specific injuries. Most massage therapists in town give general relaxation massages. I’ll tell you that’s a lot easier on the arms and hands but I like the challenge of personalizing treatments. I’ve got a man coming in this week for back pain management, a client with lupus, one with sciatic nerve pain and one with frozen shoulder issues.”

“Wow, you’re all over the place, Cristi. They’re lucky they have you to come to. Ah, speaking of injuries and shoulder problems, JJ just about pulled my arm out of the socket today. My shoulder the malamutes dislocated during sled training a year ago bothers me more each time I do a trail with her. I think I need to make an appointment to come see you too.”


CHAPTER TWO:

As Cristi drove home, south on Highway 385 through the Wind Cave National Park, thinking about Charlie’s grey eyes and crooked smile, she noticed the park’s bison were thinner than a week ago when she’d noticed the herd grazing near the road. It was so dry; the grass was non-existent, short, brown and brittle already. I hope the mom’s have milk for their calves through weaning time, she thought. Hopefully the national park feeds them hay through the winter in drought years like Custer State Park does their herd.

This was the fourth year of serious drought for the Black Hills and surrounding areas. All campfires were banned, even in the state and federal parks where campers used approved fire rings. Charlie spent a lot of his time patrolling campgrounds and ticketing violators. He and every other security officer, ranger and camp host in the park also watched the skies for smoke as they worked. Jana watched as she walked and worked her dogs.

Everyone was on edge, listening to the weather, praying for rain, waiting for the page to fight a big one. They hadn’t had a big one now in several years but every firefighter knew the time was coming. Jana and Cristi knew they might be called out to help get hikers out of the forests and off the trails if a big one started up in the Harney Peak or Black Elk Wilderness areas. Both of these heavily visited areas easily saw 50 or more people a day on their trails during the peak summer tourist months.

Cristi so did not want to put Blaze in the way of a fire. She loved her smart, funny, and very dedicated little friend as much as any parent loved her child. It was hard, always hard to send Blaze into a rock slide, to consider working with sheriff’s deputies in trailing an armed subject, or to think of going into an area filled with smoke and flames, looking for hikers in the path of the fire.

She wasn’t sure she would answer the page if the big one hit and they were looking for dogs to assist in locating people. Was it really worth risking Blaze’s life?

Wednesday morning the phone rang at 0500 hours. Gus was lying by Cristi’s feet. Blaze had worked her way up from the foot of the bed to lay with her head on the pillow next to Cristi’s sometime during the night. She yelped as Cristi lunged for the phone in the dark, squishing the little bed hog beneath her body. “Sorry,” Cristi mumbled, “Sorry. Hello,” she croaked groggily into the phone.

“Sorry to wake you Cristi but I’m heading to the Pine Ridge Reservation. They’ve had eighteen known lightening strikes in the past three hours. If you can believe it, the storm that’s just gone through even had twisters. Two houses and a mobile home were ripped to shreds with the people still in them.

They’ve called firefighters from all over, even got the Hotshots from Custer and the Black Hats from Rapid. It’s a mess. Those lightening strikes have almost all resulted in fires starting right where the strike occurred. It’s so dry; the fires are instantaneous.”

“Jana, slow down,” Cristi moaned. “It’s five in the morning. I’m not awake. You going to Pine Ridge to fight fires?”

“No, not fight fires, look for people. They’ve called the dogs in from Martin to search the rubble for survivors. A group of kids were camping overnight in the badlands right where several of the fires have started. They need more dogs to find the kids and get them out.”

“You want me to come with Blaze,” Cristi asked hoping the answer was no.

"No, you need to stay there in case something happens on our home turf. I’ve been called in with both JJ and Sky to help look for victims and Dave’s is even heading over with Argyle fire. You know its bad when fires take precedence over his going to work.”

“Custer County’s got another big storm coming in from Wyoming. It may also hit the northern part of Fall River County. We’ve been listening to the national weather report on the scanner all night. Right now Fall River and southern Custer County are under a fire weather watch with red flag conditions.

Some of our local fire fighters are staying behind on severity watch for our own counties. The storm coming in has dry lightening, high winds and hot temperatures. It’s almost a hundred degrees in Hanna, Wyoming right now and they’ve got fires in the Laramie Mountains. That’s supposed to hit us later today. You need to stay there in case they need you since I’m not going to be available.”

“Jana, I don’t know if I can go if there’s a fire. I’m afraid of fire; you know that. I don’t want to put Blaze in a situation where she might get seriously hurt.”

“Let Charlie know I’m gone, Cristi. He and Mike are both volunteer fire fighters for Custer. Either or both of them will help if you get called in. They know enough about fire to keep you and Blaze safe.” Cristi knew this was true. Even though Mike worked as a member of the blasting team carving the Crazy Horse Mountain Monument and Charlie was full time law enforcement for the park, either one or both of them would drop everything for a fire or search and rescue page.

Most services in the Black Hills were provided on a volunteer basis. Without paid fire, rescue and even rural medical services, volunteers like Cristi or any of her friends trained at their own expense, carried pagers full-time, and ran when the hills or its people were in danger.

“Either Charlie or Mike will flank you if you need them. They’ll be there for you and I’ll be back as soon as I get done on the reservation. You can do it. I’m counting on you.”

“Cristi, I need to go now. Dave’s got my van loaded. We’re going to caravan down with the fire trucks. I may need you to feed the horses and dogs I’m leaving behind if I don’t make it back for chores.”

“What if there’s a fire by you?”

“We’ve got the horse trailer and truck hooked up, ready to load horses, and the dog trailer can be pulled by one of the neighbors’ vehicles. They’re watching our place. If we’re threatened, they’ll get the animals out. I’ve got to depend on you, Cristi. You going to be ok?”

“I am, I can handle it. If they need me, I’ll go. I’ll start scanning all channels now so I hear if there’s a page in either county.”

Cristi got out of bed after the call, loaded Blaze and her buddy, JJ’s husky-mal mix brother Gus, into her all-wheel-drive Subaru and headed for the nearby recreation area for their morning run. She had her first client at 0900, plenty of time to exercise the dogs, eat breakfast, take a shower, pack her search and rescue gear just in case it was needed, and still get her treatment room ready before he arrived.

At 0600 she heard Custer County dispatch report a fire in the Bismark Lake and Bob Marshall Campground area north of Stockade Lake. Oh no, she thought. The national forest service land in that area was Jana and her favorite place to train dogs. Not only was the area drop dead gorgeous with its towering pines, broken granite landscapes and picturesque lakes, it was a training area to die for.

Because of the ever changing terrain and vegetation, the abrupt drops or rises in elevation and the swirling breezes, it was a killer of a place for a dog to find and follow scent. Jana always said if a dog is able to find a lost person in the wild, rocky landscapes of the central hills, the dog is capable of succeeding anywhere. A fire will ruin that beautiful area, she thought. I hope they get it under control quickly.

At 0830 as she readied her treatment room for her first client, she left her radio/pager on her desk in the outer office area.

Her sixty-year-old client had been in a head-on collision eight months ago and was still undergoing physical therapy at the hospital. Both of his legs had been pinned in the twisted vehicle. He’d suffered whiplash and his limbs and torso had been covered in contusions and lacerations.

As his muscles healed, they had tightened in spite of the stretching and exercise routine physical therapy had him performing on a daily basis. Cristi had been working to relax his muscles and to break up adhesions preventing his muscles from stretching properly for several weeks. She was working on his body’s pressure points and also was running energy through his body. Her energy cleared out blockages that kept his body’s energy from flowing properly. It also stimulated blood flow and promoted healing.

He was doing well. She was at the point where she could feel her energy running almost freely through his tissues, realigning his energy to do the same.

She was halfway through the session when the radio started wailing its piercing ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo, undulating Custer SAR page. She’d have to let it go and check in with dispatch after she finished. “You need to get that?” her client asked, his voice muffled due to the fact he was lying face down against a padded donut that cradled his head.

“No, it’s not necessarily for me. That’s a general page. I’ll check on it when I’m done.”

She had just sent the client on his way when her cell phone rang. Flicking the phone open she saw Charlie’s number in the display and answered,