Monica had just completed eating lunch when Bob walked into her room.
"Hi there!" he said, walking towards the left side of her bed. "How is my girl doing today?"
"Other than not being able to get out of this bed, I'm doing fine," answered Monica, smiling. She reached for Bob's left hand. Their hands entwined, Bob bent over her prone form and kissed her gently on the lips.
"This is the kind of therapy I like," said Monica.
"In that case, here is another therapeutic kiss, Monica."
"You smell good," she said, sniffing at Bob's left cheek.
"And I was wondering if anyone was going to notice my new after shave." He winked his right eye. "Was Rose in to see you today?"
"Yes, we had a long talk together."
"Great," said Bob. "Did you hear about the flood in Johnstown, the other night?"
"Not a whole lot," she answered.
"It must have been pretty bad because the area has no means of communication and the downtown section was filled with dirty water. I understand from a friend of mine who was near Johnstown, that a small town named Tanneryville, which consisted of about one hundred houses, has only five still standing. No one has any idea how many people drowned up there. The news media hasn't even mentioned the town of Tanneryville."
"I guess since Johnstown is a much larger town and was the scene of a flood about forty years ago, the newscasters felt they should cover it rather than the other small towns," said Monica.
"The only problem with that type of reporting is that friends and relatives living away from the flooded areas are deprived of information about areas near Johnstown," said Bob.
"Yes, that is unfortunate, Bob."
"Many people didn't know what was going on the night Johnstown and the surrounding areas were flooded," said Bob. "I heard from this friend of mine that several people were drowned by trying to escape the rising water. One family, which consisted of a husband, wife and child, lost two-thirds of itself whenever they opened the front door when he decided they should leave. The water found an opening and rushed into the living room, overpowering the three people inside. The husband was the only survivor. I am sorry, Monica, rambling on about the flood whenever you have problems of your own."
"That is okay, Bob," she replied, "I am interested in hearing about the problems those people have. I would imagine that many people will leave Johnstown, particularly the older folks who were in the 1936 flood."
"You have a good point about the older persons seeing the same thing over again, because this flooding was worse this time. When one is in the midst of the flow of surging water knocking out all that which blocks its path, even the first time makes a lasting impression giving enough motivation to get out of the way and to stay out of the path, forever. The people who live and work in the Johnstown area sure have had more than their share of trouble this year. In addition to the cold winter we had in Western Pennsylvania and the two weeks of hot weather just prior to the flood, they picked up the additional problem of being overwhelmed by raging and twisting water. No one seems to know exactly what is happening on the earth anymore as far as the weather is concerned. I think I even heard that the temperature in the Polar region had gone below freezing for the first time in many years."
"You think we are returning to the Ice Age again, Bob?"
"Your guess is as good as any in the weather department today, Monica, in fact sometimes the meteorologists don't know which side is up in the weather division," said Bob.
"Just imagine having to clean up the mess of mud and debris that has infiltrated every little crack in the buildings and houses along the path of the flooding," said Monica.
"The state has called up the National Guard to help in the clean-up job so that the people living there can get back to normal once more," said Bob, turning his head to the ceiling. "Scrubbing the mud and silt off the walls and floors of houses and buildings isn't going to be a fantastic job and one which I don't know if I would want. The task of searching houses and buildings for people who may have died in the catastrophe doesn't sound like a great way to be making a living, either."
"Someone has to do it, Bob," consoled Monica, "and I suppose the Guard is the group selected for the job. I wonder how many persons have really died in the flood, but I don't suppose we will know the answer to the question for several weeks."
Monica's eyes drifted to the window and she gazed into the clear sky. Those poor people who died won't have to go through life the way I will, she thought. At least the problem of being crippled for the rest of their lives will not be haunting them all the time. For them, they have just gotten to someplace sooner than the rest of us and all their problems with taxes and sickness are gone forever.
Bob noticed that Monica seemed to be in a trance. He began to tap with the knuckle of his right index finger on the bed. Monica continued to occupy herself with her thoughts. Bob hit the bed hard and startled her.
"Someone is knocking on the door," she said.
"It is only me," laughed Bob, "I thought you were in a hypnotic state and were having such a good time that you didn't want to hear me gibbering about Johnstown."
"I really would like to hear all that you find out about the flood, Bob, because I am really concerned about the lives of people and besides, some of those people are in much worse shape than I am," said Monica.
"In that case, I'll ramble on a little more, Monica. You do know that practically all the people in the flood area didn't have electricity or good clean water. Imagine trying to live without water, not being able to drink or use it to flush your commode. Man, that must be terrible."
"Terrible isn't the word for it, Bob. I experienced that problem with water once and when a number of persons have to use the commode and you can't flush it after each use, I don't even want to tell you what happened once the water came on again. Talk about a mess on the bathroom floor and having to clean it up, boy was it crappy."
"I get the drift, Monica," laughed Bob. "You need say no more about commodes. I suppose enough citizens have suffered the same fate at the hands of the water companies. A friend of mine had his water line freeze on him this winter and get this Monica, the house is brand new. He built it out in the country because he didn't want to be near anyone. Bill, my friend, had to call in a plumber and the man came armed with his trusty hammer. As Bill watched, the plumber knocked a few holes in the plaster walls to try to locate the source of the freezing. Eventually, the pipe man located the problem, but not before the scrolled plaster was adorned with holey designs. Bill thought he detected a grin on the banger's face as he cocked the hammer and prepared to deliver a blow to the unprotected wall."
"That would hurt, having a new house and seeing the walls being banged in just to find where the line was frozen,"
"Holes in the plaster and the water line freezing were only two of Bill's problems during last winter," said Bob, "he had a few more."
"Did he commit suicide after all his problems?" asked Monica.
"Not quite," said Bob, smiling, "but he apparently was considering it. One of his other problems was not being able to get his auto started for several days, and when he succeeded in the starting department, he couldn't get his car up the driveway because of the ice."
"I do remember about the ice problem this winter, Bob. Sometimes there was so much snow around one could almost believe it was going to remain forever."
"Bill had a truck in addition to his car and he hauled his family around in that vehicle until he found a way to get his car up the driveway. ' I don't think the problem with the car bothered him as much as the holes that were punched in his plaster. And even then, mostly because he thought the plumber was enjoying the job of punching."
"Do you think Bill said a few swear words, Bob?"
"I know he said more than just a few, Monica, and he repeated them on more than one day. Around the same time this thing with Bill was going on, another friend of mine was telling me about riding the buses into Pittsburgh. Some of the buses didn't put out enough heat to take care of the extreme cold we had on certain days. So he started wearing his hunting cap, scarf and thermal underwear just to keep warm. On one of the mornings on the way into town, the bus broke down and the passengers had to sit for a while until another bus came along. That day happened to be one when the temperature was well down below zero, including the chill factor."
"I don't think we ever heard about the wind chill factor as much as we did during the past winter," said Monica.
"The factor has certainly played an important part in our weather and will probably continue to do so for all the winters to come," Bob agreed.
"Can you imagine living in an area where the climate is constantly cold?" Monica asked. "You mean like the Eskimos and the people who live in Iceland and those kinds of places?"
"Yes," said Monica.
"We may be able to see the same kind of climate down this way one of these days, Monica, the way things are going. Alaska had a milder winter than we did and maybe instead of going south for the winter in the years to come, vacationers will be heading to Alaska and Canada. The rapid change in the winter of last year certainly can lead to some great speculation by anyone about where our weather picture is heading. One thing for sure, Monica, is that if the Polar regions melt, all the earth is in for big trouble, because the water generated from such a move would put most of the land now above sea level, below. There would be no place for people to get out of the water's path. I believe the Bible does say that 'God will not destroy the earth by flooding, but I don't know if he meant the way we are discussing."
Suddenly, Monica fixed her eyes on the ceiling. Why didn't God let her die in the accident? Why didn't he take her so she wouldn't have to go through life the way she didn't want to?
"Monica, what is wrong?" asked Bob. "Are you thinking about the problems if earth were to be covered with water?"
"What?" she asked.
"You weren't concerning yourself with the earth being engulfed with water, were you?
"Yes, Bob," she said. "I was just trying to figure out where everyone would go if the ice started melting and water overpowered the land we live on. What a shame that would be and what would we do? Would we have to build another Ark like Noah or would we all die anyhow.?"
"Don't worry yourself about the talk that I am making, Monica, because the Polar caps will probably never melt in our lifetime or for generations to come."
"I certainly hope not, Bob."
"Well, let me get off the weather kick of last winter and tell you about another interesting thing which happened on the same bus that my friend rides."
"You are certainly full of stories," laughed Monica. "Are you sure you aren't making things up just so you will have something to tell me and make me feel better?"
"Scout's honor," he laughed.
"You never were a boy scout were you?"
"No, but that shouldn't stop a person from using his scout's honor policy. I was in the girl scouts for a time until they found out I was a boy, then they kicked me out."
"Oh, Bob, you were never in the girl scouts," she chuckled.
"Ah...ah...you are correct, Monica. I tried to join and the scoutmaster wouldn't even let me in the outfit."
"You can continue on with your story even if you were not in the Boy or Girl Scout troop, Bob."
"Thanks, Monica, I needed that," Bob howled. "You see it was like this, the express buses that travel through parts of Oakland, East Liberty and Homewood are not supposed to discharge passengers until they reach the outer limits of Homewood. They pick up passengers, but cannot let them off until they are out of Homewood. One evening, as my friend related to me, a black man got on in Homewood and the man was loaded. I don't mean he was carrying anything heavy, except liquor. Apparently, this fellow stunk up the whole bus. Even before the man boarded the bus, they informed him that the bus only stopped at the outer limits of Homewood, and that he wasn't going to discharge him if he wanted to get off sooner. The man grumbled something and got on the bus. About two blocks from where he had gotten on the vehicle, he decided that he wanted to get off. To his dismay, the driver would not discharge him. The fellow tried to run through the closed doors on the front of the bus and then tried the ones in the middle, only to find he didn't possess enough strength to open them. He staggered up and down the aisle using every swear word know to man, while the bus driver phoned into the dispatcher about the unruly man. A lot of women on the bus were afraid of the screwball and he kept mentioning that he was just out of prison.
After deciding that he was probably going to be arrested when the police came, the drunken bum made his way to the rear of the bus and crawled out an open window. He didn't even try to push it open any farther that it was, all that interested him was getting out of the bus to a place where he wouldn't be bothered by flatfoots. Of course, I think he would probably have another name for them."
"Why do we have people in the world like that man, Bob'?"
"Needless to say, it takes all kinds to make the world go round and that asshole, if you will excuse the expression, just wanted to impress everyone on the bus with his vulgarity and threaten anyone who would attempt to tell him to shut up."
"The neighborhood the bus was going through isn't exactly the spot to make a stand whenever you are a white person," said Monica. "The problem with some persons is that they think the world owes them a living," said Bob.
"I suppose they can't accept the fact that people are not just going to go along with all the baloney," said Monica.
"Have you ever been on a bus when some black dude gets on with a radio as big as he is and has the thing blaring music? Very inconsiderate," commented Bob.
"No, I can't say that I have had the experience," interrupted Monica.
"Once when I was on the bus, a young black boy boarded and went back to the rear of the bus and had his huge radio playing very loudly and sat down by a black man dressed as a security guard. The security man told the young fellow to turn the radio down and quit disturbing everyone. Another time when I was on the bus, I watched a driver go through the same routine as the driver with the drunk, except the episode I witnessed was between a male driver and a woman passenger who boarded the bus in Pittsburgh, knowing the driver wasn't supposed to let anyone off until the bus reached the, eastern side of Homewood. You guessed it; she wanted off earlier, in fact, she wanted to get off in East Liberty. The driver wouldn't let the woman depart and when she tried to get out the open doors, he immediately closed them. As he opened the middle doors to pick up some passengers, she walked to the rear and tried to get out, but he closed the doors. Every time she tried to make it to the open doors, the driver closed them. Of course, the passengers trying to get on the bus were trying to figure out what the hell was up, as they tried to get in when the doors were opened, only to find them being shut in their face. The woman allowed the passengers to board by not trying to get off, and eventually the driver let the woman off the vehicle down the road apiece, but warned her never to get on the bus when he was driving again. She informed him he was nuts and he told her she was illiterate."
"Riding the bus must be quite an experience," Monica smiled.
"One could certainly write a book about all the problems and encounters while extolling the virtues of bus riding," said Bob. "I think it's about time for me to leave, but I'll be back in tomorrow and maybe we can get you up and out of bed and have you take a ride or walk, Monica."
"I don't know about that, Bob," Monica turned her head to the window.
"We'll see about that, tomorrow," said Bob, bending over to kiss Monica. "See you in a few hours, honey." He walked from the room. "Goodbye, Bob," she said, almost whispering.