Emergency Echo Read online

  Alice sighed at the memories. Perth – that city held mixed feelings for her. Her family had taken the one holiday she had ever been on to Perth. It was before Lewis was born, while Dad was still alive. They had gone by bus. She was seven at the time and had thought it was a magical trip. Alice had spent the next few years hoping that she would get to go again.

  And then, tragically, she did. Perth was where Dad went for his treatment. Mum had gone with him by plane, leaving six-month-old Lewis with friends, while Alice and Grandad had followed by bus.

  Alice pushed the memories away, burying them, as she always did, under happier things.

  Suddenly, with a screech of tyres, a car barrelled into the airport. It ground to a halt beside the ambulance. Mum came racing out.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Grandad.

  ‘Nothing, nothing,’ said Mum, a bit out of breath. ‘I just wanted to give this to Alice.’ She reached up behind her neck and unclasped a chain that hung down under her top. Leaning over, Mum put it around Alice’s neck. ‘For luck.’

  ‘She’s not going to be allowed to wear jewellery into surgery,’ the nurse piped up.

  ‘That’s okay,’ said Grandad quickly, realising how special the gift was. ‘I’ll mind it for her when she goes in.’

  Misty-eyed, Mum gave Alice’s hand one last squeeze then headed back to the car. Alice looked over to see Ben waving through the window, and Lewis was squishing his face up against the glass, tongue hanging out, drooling. Ben looked at him, then pressed his own face to the window.

  Alice laughed and had to clutch her stomach because of the resulting pain as she was wheeled out onto the tarmac.

  She fingered the chain, with its little nugget of gold. Dad had found that nugget when he was a kid. It was what had made him decide to become a miner. He’d given it to Mum when he’d asked her to marry him and she’d worn it ever since. Mum passing it on to Alice now was very special indeed.

  Tears welled up in Alice’s eyes and she fought the urge to sob. ‘Be strong,’ Dad had said to her. ‘Be strong for your mother.’ And that’s what she had been doing ever since.

  Alice suddenly felt guilty for having wanted Grandad to come with her rather than Mum. She swallowed hard to force down the lump in her throat.

  Grandad stayed by her as she was wheeled across to the little plane. She didn’t get that good a look at it, but the blue and red stripes along its middle caught her eye. Everything was happening so quickly. She did think the plane seemed kind of small. And it only had one propeller. She wasn’t really sure what she’d been expecting … but something bigger than this.

  ‘It’s a single-engine Pilatus PC-12,’ said the nurse, following Alice’s gaze. ‘The RFDS has 33 of them in its fleet. Two of them are stationed at the Meekatharra base.’

  Alice was wheeled up to the rear side of the aircraft and two men attached her stretcher to some kind of mechanical arm that extended from the door above. As this was happening, a woman in trousers and a shirt, with a white coat over the top, approached her.

  ‘You must be Alice,’ she said with a smile. The skin around her eyes crinkled. ‘I’m Doctor Helen Blass. But you can call me Doctor Helen. I’m with the Royal Flying Doctor Service and I’ll be looking after you till we get to Perth. This bloke over here,’ she pointed to the older of the two men working the machinery, ‘is Pat the pilot. And this young fellow,’ she indicated the other man, ‘is Cameron the nurse, who’ll observe you.’

  ‘All set,’ said Cameron.

  ‘Okay,’ said Doctor Helen. ‘We’re now going to lift you and the stretcher up into the plane. I’ll just get a handover from your nurse and then I’ll check you out before we head off.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Alice. She took an instant liking to Doctor Helen. She had friendly eyes and a nice smile.

  Doctor Helen took a step back as the mechanical arm lifted Alice and the stretcher up into the plane. Again, she gritted her teeth and took a deep breath to cope with the pain that the jerky movements caused. The first splatters of rain began.

  Nurse Cameron came in through the door at the other end and unhooked the stretcher from the machine, locking it into place against the wall of the plane instead.

  Then Doctor Helen and Grandad climbed aboard. Grandad took the seat closest to the front, while Doctor Helen checked Alice over, asking her lots of questions about the pains, where they were exactly and how bad they were.

  ‘Everyone needs to get seat-belted in.’ Pilot Pat was leaning in through the doorway to the cockpit. ‘The storm is moving faster than expected, so we have to get going right now. I’ll try to skirt around the worst of the storm, but the ride may still get a little bumpy. The flight to Perth would normally take an hour, but with the detour, plus flying into headwinds, it will probably take a little longer.’

  Alice looked to see rain pattering on the windows. The thought of flying in a storm made her feel jittery.

  Doctor Helen and Nurse Cameron took the seats nearest Alice.

  As soon as everyone had done up their belts, the engine started. Alice was surprised at just how noisy it was. And how everything rattled and shook as the plane built up speed. The liquid in the IV bag shimmered with the vibrations. She hoped that all the rattling wouldn’t shake the aircraft apart.

  And then Alice’s stomach dropped as the plane lifted off. She wasn’t quick enough to hold back the shout. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath to ease the nausea and pain.

  When she opened her eyes, she gazed towards the windows on the opposite side of the cabin. At first it was just rain and cloudy sky, but as the plane banked she saw tantalising glimpses of the ground below – runway, car park, airport buildings and road all in miniature.

  Alice was in the air for the first time in her life. Flying! It would’ve been a lot better if she wasn’t strapped onto a stretcher with an IV drip connected to her veins. But, even with appendicitis, she was still pretty awestruck by her first flight.

  Then and there she decided that she wanted to fly again. Somewhere. Anywhere.

  In the distance, she heard a rumble over the noise of the plane. Is that thunder? she wondered. She looked over at Grandad and saw that he wasn’t enjoying the ride as much as she was. His hands gripped the edges of his seat and his expression was stony as he stared straight ahead, deliberately not looking through the windows. Alice grinned.

  But the grin didn’t last long.

  Alice cried out as a sharp pain sliced through her side. It was so bad she had to fight the urge to throw up. Unlike the previous pains, this one didn’t go way. Alice groaned.

  Within seconds Doctor Helen was at her side questioning her and prodding at her stomach. Alice yelped as the doctor’s fingers pressed into her abdomen.

  ‘Okay,’ said Doctor Helen, speaking loudly so as to be heard over the noise of the engine. ‘I’m going to increase the dose of morphine. That should help with the discomfort.’

  Suddenly Grandad was looking down over the doctor’s shoulder. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked, his voice a little shaky. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Hold on a moment.’ Doctor Helen finished adjusting the IV drip, then asked Nurse Cameron to check Alice’s blood pressure and heart rate.

  ‘She’s experiencing increased pain,’ said Doctor Helen, turning to Grandad.

  Alice strained to hear the conversation over the engine.

  ‘It’s not one hundred percent certain,’ continued Doctor Helen, ‘but it’s usually a sign that the appendix has ruptured.’

  Alice saw Grandad’s eyes widen.

  ‘There’s no need to worry just yet,’ said Doctor Helen. ‘We’re not far from Perth and she’ll be in surgery within the next few hours. That is well within the timeframe for treatment.’

  ‘But it’s more dangerous if it ruptures,’ said Grandad. His voice was lower now, but Alice still managed to hear.

  ‘Well, there is the higher risk of complications,’ explained the doctor. ‘But she will be given some pretty str
ong antibiotics to reduce the chances of that. The main issue is that recovery time will be a little longer. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get Pat to radio ahead to make sure the hospital is prepped for surgery.’

  A rumble of thunder sounded.

  Doctor Helen shuffled past Grandad and leaned through the doorway to the cockpit. Alice looked at Grandad fearfully as Nurse Cameron fussed around her.

  What if she didn’t get to the hospital in time? What if she died? People died in hospitals all the time … just like her father. She could feel her panic rising.

  ‘It’s okay, honey,’ Grandad said, taking the seat closest to her so that he didn’t need to shout over the engine. ‘You’ll be fine.’

  Alice nodded but didn’t say anything. Despite his reassurance, she knew that Grandad was worried. Nurse Cameron finished up and returned to his seat.

  Ben’s face suddenly sprang into her mind, along with a thought. She didn’t want to die without knowing the colour of his eyes. She told herself that if everything turned out okay, she would ask him the very next time she saw him.

  ‘We’re only about thirty minutes off,’ said Doctor Helen, turning back from the cockpit. ‘But it looks like we’ll hit the edge of the storm before we land, so we better get our seatbelts on.’ She looked at Grandad, who was in her seat.

  ‘Mind if I stay here?’ he asked. ‘I thought I’d tell Alice about my own RFDS appendix experience.’

  Alice’s eyes lit up.

  ‘Sure,’ said Doctor Helen, taking Grandad’s seat.

  Grandad took a deep breath and turned his attention back to Alice. ‘You did want to hear the story, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Alice breathed.

  ‘Well, it all happened a long time ago.’ Grandad shifted back and put his seatbelt on. ‘I was ten years old at the time, which would make it, let me think … 1961. My appendix burst right in the middle of a storm. We were out on the family farm, and there was no one around except me and my dad.’ He bit at his lip. ‘For a while there, it was looking pretty dicey.’

  Alice gazed expectantly at Grandad. She was feeling calmer. And slightly fuzzy round the edges.

  Nurse Cameron and Doctor Helen leaned forward to listen.

  Tom Gleeson lay on the couch moaning. His face was red and sweaty but he shivered as if he were cold. He clutched at his stomach and watched as his dad spoke on the two-way radio that was set up in the corner of the lounge room.

  Outside, the wind howled and the rain beat down on the tin roof. The storm sounded furious, as if it were attacking their farmhouse. It was late afternoon, but the view through the window looked like a grim evening.

  ‘I reckon it’s his appendix,’ said Mr Gleeson. ‘Over.’

  ‘Given the symptoms … likely …’ The crackly voice broke through the hissing static in little bursts. ‘You’ve described … he’s in severe pain … his appendix might have ruptured …’

  ‘That’s bad, isn’t it?’ Mr Gleeson was a large man, tall and broad, with a leathery sun-weathered face and a deep gravelly voice. He was the sort of outback man who was never rattled by anything, capable of dealing with whatever the harsh land threw at him. But, right now, his voice rose a little. ‘What do I do? Over.’

  ‘Needs to go to hospital … operation …’ came the broken response. ‘Can’t fly in this weather … need to wait until the storm is over …’ The voice disappeared completely for a few seconds, then returned. ‘For the time being, try to keep the boy comfortable. If you’ve got any painkillers, you can give him some … cold compress for the fever … lying down … radio again when we can send a plane …’ And then there was static.

  ‘Hello,’ said Mr Gleeson. ‘Hello! Flying Doctor Service! Can you hear me? Over.’

  Static.

  ‘Gleeson Farm to Royal Flying Doctor Service. Can you hear me? Over.’

  Static.

  Mr Gleeson put down the microphone and turned to his son. Tom saw his own fear reflected in his father’s eyes.

  ‘You heard what the man said.’ Mr Gleeson nodded to the radio, making an effort to keep his voice sounding normal. ‘Lie down and take it easy. And they’ll send a plane as soon as the storm breaks. I’m gonna see if I can find your mum’s headache tablets. They said you could have some.’

  Tom waited with mounting fear as his dad went to rummage in the bathroom cabinet. From his position on the couch he heard things being dropped and his dad swearing.

  Tom wished that his mum was there with him. He missed her. He knew there would be nothing she could really do to make things better, but he wanted her there anyway.

  Before long, Mr Gleeson returned with a couple of tablets and a glass of water. Tom choked them down.

  And then came the worst part of the whole experience – waiting!

  He lay on the couch, shifting from one position to another. It hurt to move, but he just couldn’t get comfortable. The medicine his dad had given him didn’t seem to do anything. And, as the afternoon wore on, the pain in his stomach seemed to get worse. It was all he could focus on.

  Mr Gleeson paced the length of the lounge room, stopping every now and then to gaze out the window. The intensity of his stare as he looked at the storm made Tom think he was trying to will the weather to improve.

  Tom drifted in and out of a fevered sleep, his mother’s face floating through his dreams.

  Eventually the rain lessened and the wind eased. And then the radio burst into life.

  ‘Royal Flying Doctor Service base to Gleeson Farm. Royal Flying Doctor Service base to Gleeson Farm. Come in, please. Over.’

  Mr Gleeson leapt across the room and grabbed the radio mic. Tom tried to sit up but slumped back down, clutching his stomach and groaning.

  ‘This is Gleeson Farm, reading you loud and clear. Over.’ The relief in his dad’s voice was obvious.

  ‘The storm has cleared up our way,’ said the man on the radio. ‘Should be clearing down your way by now, as well. We’ve got a plane fuelled up and about to take off. We’ve checked out the maps. Given how isolated you are and the seriousness of the situation, we’re hoping to land on the stretch of road coming in to your farm. Is that doable? Over.’

  ‘Yeah, I reckon so,’ answered Mr Gleeson. ‘It’s a good long road. Over.’

  ‘We need you to go and check on the condition of it after the storm. To make sure it’s safe. We’re going to assume it’s all okay, but if it isn’t, you’ll have to let us know. If there are any problems with the road, we’ll try radioing your neighbouring farms to see if there’s a better option. But that will add time. And it would be better for the patient if we could come straight to you. Over.’

  ‘Will do,’ answered Mr Gleeson. ‘Over and out.’

  Tom watched as his dad got his hat, boots and coat and headed for the door. Tom thought he looked like a proper bushman in that outfit.

  It wasn’t until he was nearly out of the house, that he stopped and looked back. Tom wondered if his dad had almost forgotten him.

  Tom’s mum and older sister were in Perth visiting relatives. Tom was supposed to have been going with them, but the idea of spending his school holidays with his aunt and uncle and their six-month-old daughter had seemed to him like a horrifying idea. So he’d begged and pestered and complained until his parents had finally agreed to let him stay on the farm with his dad. The condition was that he had to help out around the farm, which is what he had been doing. In fact, he’d been feeding the chooks when his stomach pains first began.

  ‘I think I’d better take ya with me,’ his dad said.

  Mr Gleeson got an extra blanket and wrapped Tom up in it before carrying him to the ute. Tom bit the side of this tongue in an effort not to cry out. His stomach hurt so much while he was being shifted.

  It was still quite dark outside, ominous clouds shifting above, but the rain had eased to a light drizzle. Tom looked up to face the sky, the drops of water cool and pleasant on his hot face.

  The ute rattled about
as his dad drove across their property towards the main entry road. Tom couldn’t help it – he cried out each time they went over a bump. His dad kept apologising as he drove, but the tracks were not in great condition and tears continued to stream down Tom’s face. He was a whimpering, exhausted mess by the time they approached the road.

  ‘BLAST!’ his dad spat the word out like a bad taste.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ moaned Tom, wondering how things could possibly get any worse than they already were.

  ‘That damn tree’s come down across the road,’ complained Mr Gleeson. ‘The one I’ve been meaning to get rid off since we got this place.’

  ‘So … the plane … can’t land?’ Tom’s voice was a shaky little whisper.

  ‘Don’t you worry, son,’ his dad assured him. ‘Got the chainsaw under the tarp.’

  Tom bit his lip as the ute jolted to a stop. He had done enough blubbering, he decided. He needed to be strong. His dad had enough to deal with.

  Tom watched through the window as his dad fetched the old, rusty chainsaw from the back of the ute. He watched him struggle to get the thing started, repeatedly pulling at the starter cord. He watched him as he got to work on the tree, branch by branch, piece by piece.

  Tom pressed his cheek against the cool glass. The water drops trickling down the window made everything blurry. But his mind was also foggy. It was hard to concentrate on … anything. The only constant was the pain in his stomach. But even that didn’t stop him from falling asleep.

  He opened his eyes what seemed like only moments later to see his dad dragging the last of the tree off the road. That was quick, he thought, and closed his eyes again.