8-8-88 (Part 1)

My beta readers kept asking me, “what’s the big deal starting with Red’s birth?” They insisted I hurry up and get to the action. “Sorry,” I replied. “It’s how it starts and it serves purpose.” I did edit the scene down to its bones in FEAR. So, here’s Part 1 of the full story.

But first…

Colorado Springs, CO – May 18, 1988

The Woods are doing what they do every Wednesday evening.

Tina sits at the kitchen table reading one of her gardening journals. Her husband, Bill (Dr. Bill to his patients and staff, and most of their friends) sits across from her, sorting through the mail. He finds what looks like a greeting card, oversized and stiff. The back has a cute sticker of a cartoon baby sitting atop a large golf ball, holding an oversized golf club.

A birth announcement?

Turning it over, it’s addressed to “Dr. William Wood,” with a return address from the American Academy of Pediatrics. He opens it and begins to read the enclosed card and letter.

“Huh? This can’t be right. It’s paid for?” Dr. Bill says, more to himself than to Tina.

“What is?” Tina asks without looking up from her magazine.

“It’s an invitation to a physician’s conference, somewhere in Michigan. According to this letter, all my expenses are paid—conference fees, hotel, car rental. Even the green fees.” Dr. Bill goes silent as he continues to read.

“Green fees at a doctor’s conference?” She looks up, wondering if she heard right.

Her eyes move from the envelope to her husband’s excited expression.

“Wow, the case study symposiums have some impressive speakers. And it’s covering a lot of topics. Neonatal infections, hematologic disorders,…”

His voice fades as Tina sees her husband. A kind and gentle man, yet strong and decisive. A healer, a scientist, a writer, a handyman, a mountain man. Selfless with her and his patients. Loving, giving, and yes, even sexy without trying. The man she married who cares for children, for families, even though they are unable to have their own.

She blinks. A single tear falls gently down her cheek.

“You should go,” she says, wiping the tear and giving him a genuine, attentive smile.

“I don’t know. It’s up in Michigan, and it’s for almost a week in August.”

“When was the last time you took a vacation? And driving up to Denver doesn’t count.”

He pauses to think, and realizes there is nothing to think about.

“Maybe I should go.”

8-8-88

PART 1

St. Ignace, MI – August 8, 1988

Windows down, listening to a local classic rock station Dr. Bill Wood is enjoying a morning drive before his tee time at the St. Andrew Golf Resort.

Led Zepplin’s “Ramble On” starts to play, as he takes in the cool breeze blowing through the car, the temperature chilled by the great lakes surrounding the point where the club is located. The sun has been up for a couple of hours and Dr. Bill’s surprised he needs to wear a jacket in August.

Lake Michigan and Lake Huron fascinate the family doctor. Having spent his early youth in Seattle, he’s used to looking at a large ocean, but an ocean of fresh water gives off a different vibe. Probably because the smell is fresher than ocean air and his skin doesn’t feel sticky with a film of salt.

Yesterday, Dr. Meadows, a local pediatrician and his first golf partner, told Dr. Bill about an old light and fog signal station near Mackinaw City. A fondness for old lighthouses, he has just enough time to drive across the Straits of Mackinac (what the locals call the area between the two great lakes), tour McGulpin Point (where the old lighthouse sits), get back, play nine holes, clean up, then attend the afternoon session at the conference.

Turning south on Interstate 75, Dr. Bill drives onto the Mackinac Bridge, the almost five-mile suspension bridge connecting the upper and lower peninsulas of Michigan. Once on the bridge, he immediately hears cars honking. At first glance he can’t identify where the ruckus is coming from. Turning down the radio, the noise becomes evident. Looking in his rearview, he sees an old, red Chevy pickup blazing towards his rental.

Jerking his car to the side, the crazy truck shoots past, almost clipping him as it jumps the curb. The pickup crashes through the guardrails with a loud crack, then takes flight, snapping cables as it dives over the side. The whole scene seems surreal to him as his heart tries to escape his chest.

Dr. Bill checks the mirror, sees several cars pulled over, and only a few driving forward at a snail’s pace. He parks, then jumps out to run toward the gape in the guardrails. Looking down, the red tailgate of the pickup is almost under water.

No idea of distance. No thought of danger. Dr. Bill strips off his jacket and drops it. He climbs down to the girder and walks across to the edge. Locating the bubbles still breaking water, he jumps to get as close to them as possible.

He waves his arms for balance, then points his toes as he hits the lake.

Swimming to the surface, he takes a deep breath, then dives to swim down. The water is cool, but chills drastically the deeper he goes. He grabs his nose to equalize his ears then continues his descent. Eyes open, he sees bubbles rising from the depths, but no sign of the truck. Only darkness.

Doubling his efforts, he follows bubbles, when something floats up and smacks him in the face. He grabs it. The thing squirms in his hands. The wriggling is familiar as his hands explore the object.

A baby?

No second thought for the truck, Dr. Bill firmly grabs the child, turns and kicks for the surface. His air almost depleted, he breaks the surface and takes a deep breath as he lifts the infant out of the water to breathe.

This is a newborn! A BIG newborn. Underwater, its size felt like a few months old baby. This kid still has its umbilical cord, and what’s this?  He treads water to get a better look. Born en caul! The amniotic sac is covering his head like a diving helmet.

Dr. Bill looks around and sees a bridge footer several yards away. Turning on his back and holding the child to his chest, he backstrokes to the pillar. A small ledge is available to crawl onto. Lifting the infant is hard, he needs both hands to handle the weight.

He must weigh 10 pounds or more. Finally, the baby on the concrete, he quickly climbs up.

First, he removes the sac. The baby, a boy, takes a big breath and starts to cry in a strong, healthy voice. Giving the newborn a quick exam, he notices the placentas still attached to the cord. With just enough room, he sits, crossing his legs, and lays the boy in his lap to remove a wet shoelace. He loops the cord to tie it tight around both ends, then realizes he has nothing to cut it with.

The boy stops crying. Dr. Bill looks at the baby’s face. Overly large, green eyes stare back at him. That’s a first, he thinks. Having delivered several newborns, they normally have blue or brown eyes that change after a few months. He’s never seen a sparkling green-eyed baby. The gaze holds the good doctor spellbound. Newborns can’t focus, but I swear he can see me.

Blinking breaks the spell. The next thing he notices is the infant’s hair. Even wet, Dr. Bill can see it’s thick, curly and red as a chili pepper.

“You are quite the little, uh, big sweetheart, aren’t you?” Dr. Bill looks out on the lake where there are no more bubbles. Thinking that the mother, and whoever else is in the truck, are gone. He looks down into the green orbs and sighs.

“Son, you are one lucky baby boy. One huge, lucky boy. Your parents must be giants.” Dr. Bill wonders if both parents were in the truck.

He can hear people yelling above. He yells back, but isn’t sure anyone can hear him.

Being wet, the wind off the lake sends a chill up Dr. Bill’s spine. He lifts his shirt and holds the baby close to share warmth. Several minutes pass. In the distance, he can see a boat heading his way. As it closes, he smiles. A patrol boat. Thank goodness.

Once aboard, snuggling in blankets and refusing to let go of the boy, he tells the officers what he saw, what he did, what he found, and then asks them for a knife. After convincing them he’s a doctor (his ID is wet, but readable) they bring him one to cut the cord. He asks one of the crew to put it and the placenta in a bag and the bag in an ice chest. The baby falls asleep in Dr. Bills arms.

An ambulance team meet them at the dock. Having to convince the EMT’s he’s a doctor, he insists on riding to the hospital. Carrying the boy and the ice chest, he’s too adamant to deny. In the ambulance, Dr. Bill takes charge running vitals on the infant and is happy with the results.

“Why keep the cord, Dr. Bill?” A tech asks him.

“Doctor’s impulse,” he says, his usual excuse for doing odd things, but then explains. “I read an article discussing the use of cord blood for disease treatment.” And left it at that. 

At the hospital, Dr. Bill’s impulse to follow the boy into the exam room is blocked by the staff. He paces until a nurse comes out. Looking flabbergasted, she lets him know the 11.8 pound baby is happy and healthy.

Thanking her, Dr. Bill asks when he can see him. She’s about to answer when two police officers step up. The taller of the two ask him, “Are you Dr. William Wood?”

“Yes sir, officer.”

“Good. Been looking for you. Need you to come back to the bridge with us. You left a car on the bridge and we have several questions,…”

“But I can’t leave the baby!” Dr. Bill interrupts, adding, “Sir,” to show some respect.

“The baby will be fine.”

Reluctantly, Dr. Bill concedes, but not before leaving his contact information with the nurse.

• • •

Someone found his jacket, the keys to the rental still in the ignition. The car moved, sits in a parking lot near the bridge’s north entrance. After spending too many minutes answering questions in the lot, he rides with them up to the scene on the bridge to answer a few more.

Questions asked and answered, the two officers talk between themselves. Dr. Bill steps over to the gap in the bridge where two more officers are chatting.

“This break don’t make sense, Grant. The rail and them stringers shoulda stopped that truck like a fly on a windshield. But look here, everything just snapped like it were made a’balsa wood.” Dr. Bill listens and looks at the points of reference.

The other guy, Grant, points down, just past the broken cables. “Yep, Jim. Weird as shit. And with all that, how in the hell did it miss them side beams? Damn thing must’ve had wings.”

Before making the jump, Dr. Bill was too focused on saving people to notice any of the things they’re talking about. Feeling the broken rail, seeing the snapped cables and the distance cleared, he agrees. It don’t make sense.

Below, a barge with a large winch is floating on the lake. On the ship, several men are looking down into the water.

“Heard one guy say that looney driver picked one of the deepest spots close to shore to drop into. They may not be able to reach it.” Officer Grant says. Hearing this, Dr. Bill is thankful the boy bumped him before swimming deeper.

No one asks him to leave. Some officers direct traffic while others watch below. Eventually a cheer goes up on the barge, as the winch begins to turn. Two divers emerge as the rear end of the pickup breaks water.

“Officer? Grant?” Dr. Bill says, surprising the officer. Dr. Bill introduces himself. Both Officers Grant and Jim know who he is. After shaking his hand and letting him know he’s a brave, crazy son-of-a-bitch, Dr Bill finds out where the barge will be going with the truck.

“Bridge Authority, probably. Down there where I parked your car.” Grant informs him.

“Thank you, for doing that,” Dr. Bill says, and starts walking.

• • •

Dr. Bill notices two men in suits and a woman wearing a pantsuit examining the truck still chained down on the barge. A white sheet covers a body lying beside the pickup. Dr. Bill follows two EMTs managing a gurney up a ramp onto the boat.

“That the only body?” One of the techs asks.

The woman stops her examination to answer. “The only one in the truck. Heard there was baby that got out. Some guy dove in and saved it.”

“I just jumped. And the baby met me halfway as I tried to find the truck.” Dr. Bill says. Everyone turns to look at him. “Dr. Bill Wood.” He introduces himself, but instead of sticking out his hand to shake, he squats down to uncover the body.

The dead woman is petite. Dr. Bill figures she’s just over five feet in height. The skin looks like porcelain, the cold water having constricted her blood vessels. Her face is beautiful, even in death. Plump cheeks, pixie nose, and full lips, surrounded by a large mass of thick red hair like her child’s.

Dr. Bill moves down and presses against her stomach.

“Hey,” one of the men by the pickup yells. “You can’t do that!”

Dr. Bill ignores him as he moves further down and lifts her dress to look underneath.

“That is so wrong.” The same guy says, stomping over to stop Dr. Bill.

“She was pregnant. And,… I don’t know. Maybe she was giving birth while driving on the bridge? Could be the reason the driving was so chaotic.” Dr. Bill stands up, facing the angry man. “It’s okay, I’m a doctor,” he says.

“I don’t care what you are. You have no right…” He stops when the woman grabs his arm.

“Chill out Harry,” she says, then turns to Dr. Bill. “I’m Detective Emmons. This guy,” she pokes the angry man, “is Detective Burnett.” She points to the other man sorting soggy paper inside the pickup. “And that’s Detective Mansfield.”

“Hi. I’m Dr. Bill Wood,” he says, as if meeting new patients.

Detective Emmons moves in front of Detective Burnett, blocking the conflict. “So, you’re the crazy hero. You think she was giving birth on the bridge? While driving the truck?”

“Be my guess. Not sure she was driving, but if someone else was, no doubt she was a distraction. Hitting the bridge, then hitting the water probably pushed the baby out. Or at least got it to crown. The baby is huge and would have been a rough delivery for such a tiny woman.” Dr. Bill looks back down at the still form. “Painful.”

“Got it!” Detective Mansfield yells. “The insurance card’s sealed in plastic, so it’s still readable. Woman’s name is Jenny Blatt. Address is in Garnet. Nothing else I could find is legible. Looks like receipts and car maintenance shit.”

“Since I saved her child’s life, would it be okay if I go with you to her place? There might be prenatal records the hospital could use. I feel kind of responsible for the little, uh, big guy.”

“Hmm, I don’t see why not.” She pauses. “Doc, maybe you can help us figure something out, since you saw the accident and seem to be uncommonly observant.” She looks at Detective Burnett, offering a spiteful grin.

“Sure, what’s the puzzle?” Dr. Bill asks.

She leads him over to the front of the pickup and stares at the grill.

“Notice anything?” She asks.

Dr. Bill follows her gaze. Nothing comes to mind, until he relives the moment the pickup hit the bridge and went over.

“There’s no damage. With the impact I saw, that front end should be demolished.” Dr. Bill scratches his head. “It’s the same truck. I swear. There can’t be another one just like it out there.” He looks toward the bridge. “She was in the truck. She was pregnant.” He turns to see Detective Emmons staring at him with arms crossed, one fist lifted with a thumbs-up.

“Bingo, Doc. We’re finding all sorts of missing pieces here. Let’s go see what’s missing at Jenny Blatt’s home, shall we?”

Part 2 Coming Soon!

HOOK 7-17-2026