Myra shivered, aware for the first time of the goose bumps across her shoulders and arms. Her legs, too. She rubbed her arms vigorously as Sam stood up striking a full point in the direction of the closed door and whimpered softly.
"What's the matter, girl?" Myra tousled the golden retriever's old grey head. Sam looked up briefly and wagged her tail but went back to her all-consuming inspection of the door. . . an expectant waiting.
Myra shrugged and bent her head back over her calculations but she was distracted and couldn't concentrate. She stood up and stretched. Sam had moved to the door and was standing with her nose pressed tight against it.
"Do you need to go out, silly ol' dog?" Myra reached for the door knob and sensed something different. Kind of like hearing but there was no sound she could detect. Was it a change in air pressure or a sound beyond consciousness? Her heart beat faster as she yanked the door open and sprinted outside and around the cabin in her socks. Shading her eyes, she scanned the mountain. Nothing. Nothing looked different but Myra knew that it was. She could feel it everywhere. The lack of bird sounds. Sam's nervous whine. Her own goose bumps and that feeling in her ears. She knew. She forced herself to exhale and slow her racing heart.
Now what? How long? Even months of seismic readings and steam plume evaluation and bulge measurements gave no clue as to when. It was still a guessing game. They had all kinds of jackpots going now. The pub on the road to town had a dart board for picking a date and taking your chance with your buck.
But Myra knew it was NOW! And she had a job to do even though she didn't want to turn her back on the mountain. She wanted to see everything. With a feeling of desperation and immediacy, she raced back in to grab the camcorder case, a tri-pod and some tie-downs. The speed with which she placed the camcorder in its protective shell, adjusted the pick-up mics and mounted it on the tripod gave testimony to her months of practice. She lashed the tripod to the poles buried in the ground for that purpose. Grabbing a pole, she could feel the vibrations deep in the earth. In moments they reached her feet and she paused, letting them climb her bones until she, too, was part of the incredible power.
Sam was frantic. She wanted to be inside but would not leave Myra unprotected outside. Every time Myra turned around, Sam was under her feet, getting in the way. Kind of like her fiance had been. "Poor Mom," Myra thought, "she never did understand why I called off the wedding at the last minute. She probably never will, either. But I'm not sorry for my decision."
"Come on, old friend," she called to the dog, dashing again to the cabin. She closed Sam in the small sleeping room and pulled on coveralls while she monitored instrumentation to make sure everything was in working order. She fired up the generator in the back ventilated room and shut down the circuit breakers to the overland power lines. Again she checked the instrument panels to make sure they were all functional. Her coffee mug walked off the edge of the desk and crashed to the floor. Myra laughed exhuberently, grabbed her hat, coat and gloves and crammed her feet in her boots, charging back outside.
The audible rumble now enveloped the air which was hot and the landscape danced in front of, making her feel a bit dizzy. Kind of the same way she had felt when she had closed her heart to Mike and told him goodby. He was a nice guy, but she wanted more than their relationship provided, good as it had been. She wanted a man driven by the same passion and fire she was. The same passion that now filled her with an impatient feeling, waiting for something prophetic to happen. She checked the camcorder one last time and sat down to wait. It couldn't be long. She put her ear plugs in.
She would be fairly well protected here on the backside of the bulge but still with a good view. The cabin was in the center of a clearing where falling timber wouldn't be a hazard and she was away from any anticipated mud flows. The cabin itself was shored up with earth mounds and had a strong supporting roof with more than ample insulation. She had plenty of food and water and using the stationary bike set up she could keep the batteries charged indefinitely. The generator itself would last for weeks if she used the fuel conservatively. Myra figured she could make it as as long as she needed to on her own provided she wasn't injured. The air filtration system would recycle her air. All she had to do was keep the exhaust vents clear. She also knew that in itself might take superhuman effort, depending on the volume of ash and debris. The cellar garbage storage facility was ample to keep the bags from the port-a-potty, she thought ruefully.
Sitting flat on the ground, she felt it when it happened . . . CORE BREACH!! The magma broke its way through the core plug and Myra knew . . . barely moments before the side of the mountain exploded outward as she watched in awe, the magma and the mountain joining as one in the all-consuming blast driven by the same deep force from the center of the earth.
She watched a forest of trees instantly denuded and blown to the ground before the sound reached her and rolled up over her and continued past like she wasn't even there. She watched the forests laying down in front of the leading edge of the pyroclastic flow, blown to oblivion by the rushing gasses. The fragmented rock billowed into the air seemingly in slow motion, building up and up and up. She watched while an upper air current caught the plume and swung it around to her direction. Over the mountain the particles rained back into the plume where they were reheated and forced back upward to rejoin the ever-rising plume but she knew that as the cloud reached her location on the prevailing transport winds, tons of ash and rock would blanket her little clearing. She had lost track of time. It seemed like she had been here an eternity . . . or was it just a heartbeat? How long had she calculated it would take for the leading edge of the ash cloud to reach her? She couldn't remember, but she also knew she couldn't wait too long because the ash would still be super-heated and could incinerate everything in its path. As the rock and ash began descending to earth, headed her way, it obliterated any hopes of seeing more.
Myra rose slowly and took time to retrieve the camcorder before retreating to the safety of the cinder block cabin and rapidly sealing it off to the outside air.
She had lived for this exact moment through eight years of school. Through eight years of rejection and proving herself. Through all those years of single mindedness. This was her dream. Her mother would never understand her dedication . . . not even now when there were finally results. Myra was 32 years old and her mother was still trying to fix her up with "nice boys." Myra doubted there was a man alive who could hold a candle to that exact moment of the core breach. But if there was, Myra would be happy to met him when she finally dug her way out.
Myra turned Sam lose, gave her a reassuring pat and hoped the dog didn't have to go for a day or so . . . that could be a problem. She shed her extra clothes, retrieved her mug from the floor, blew it off and poured herself a cup of coffee from the 1/2 gallon urn. The air was hot and thick, like being in an oven. She rewound the tape and turned on the VCR. Three times she watched her explosion, reliving every emotion over again. She finally got up to respond to the frantic radio communications.
"Base Station 3 to Base Station 1. Hey, guys, how ya' doin'? Was this everything we'd waited for and more? All's well here, over." There was no response. Probably interference from the ash cloud. After two more unsuccessful attempts, she shut down the radio. She'd try again tomorrow when the atmosphere was clearer. She turned to the machines and began stripping information for evaluation. When the coffee pot was empty, Myra looked at her watch 2317 hrs. She could hardly believe it. Evaluation could wait until tomorrow. She got ready for bed, switched the machines to battery-packs and turned off the generator. She stretched out limply on her bunk and slept more soundly than she had in years, the continued rumblings of the mountain crooning her a bone-felt bass lullaby. Thus fulfilled, she dreamed a new dream. Of a man who gave her goose bumps and made her bones vibrate from her toes to her head . . .
