The Birthday Storm

by Sharon M. Draper

  “The waves seem like they’re angry today,” I tell Grammy. “They’re pounding the sand.”

  “That’s the storm that’s brewing,” Grammy says. “Let’s head back to the house.”

  “Okay. I’ve worked up an appetite,” I tell her.

  Then she stops walking. “Look, Sassy!” Grammy says with excitement in her voice.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  She kneels down in the sand next to a large rock. “It’s a sea turtle nest,” she says softly.

  “Wow! How can you tell?”

  “See the tracks the mother left?” Grammy points to a long path in the sand. It leads all the way back down to the sea.

  “It looks like the track of one giant truck wheel,” I say.

  “She deposited her eggs here last night and covered them with sand,” Grammy explains.

  “When will she come back to check on her babies?”

  “She lays her eggs, then swims away. She will never return,” Grammy tells me.

  “Oh, that’s so sad!”

  “Most of these nests are marked by the Marine Turtle Protection Program, but it looks like they missed this one,” Grammy says as she rubs her hand over the dent in the sand where the eggs are hidden.

  “What difference does it make?” I ask.

  “Sea turtles are endangered animals,” Grammy explains.

  “Does that mean they are about to be extinct?” I ask.

  “Lots of people are working so that does not happen,” Grammy tells me.

  “How?”

  “Well, the nests are usually marked so beachgoers know to be very careful. We want the little eggs to hatch.”

  “How many eggs to do you think are waiting under the sand?”

  “Probably about a hundred,” Grammy tells me.

  “Wow.”

  I reach down into my Sassy Sack and pull out a bright green ribbon. Then I take my lucky pink ribbon from my hair.

  “Can we tie these to a stick as a warning?” I ask.

  “Great idea, Sassy,” Grammy replies. “Are you sure you want to use your special pink ribbon?”

  “If it’s lucky for me, then maybe it will be good for the sea turtles,” I tell her. I feel very sure of this.

  We find a piece of driftwood and stick it deep into the sand near the big rock. Then I tie the ribbons to it. “Will this help?” I ask.

  “Absolutely!” Grammy replies. “Whoever comes close will know that something special is hidden at that spot.”

  The wind blows a little harder at that moment. The ribbons flutter in the new breeze.

  “Will the turtle eggs be okay?” I ask as we turn to leave.

  “I hope so,” Grammy replies. But she doesn’t sound sure.

  “Have you ever been in a hurricane?” I ask as we head back to the house.

  “Yes. Once,” Grammy replies. “It was pretty scary.”

  I shiver and grab her hand again. I am about to ask her to tell me about that storm, but Sabin is running down the beach toward us.

  “Hey, there!” he cries out as he reaches us. “Where have you two been?”

  “Just walking and talking,” Grammy says.

  I don’t want to tell Sabin that I was glad I had a few minutes with Grammy all by myself.

  “We found a sea turtle nest!” I announce proudly.

  “Cool!” Sabin says. “Can you show it to me later?”

  “Sure! We marked it with ribbons,” I tell him.

  “I’ll race you back to the house!” Sabin says to me.

  “What’s your hurry?” Grammy asks.

  “Because I’m hungry!” Sabin replies gleefully. “The sooner we get back, the sooner we can have breakfast!”

  I crack up and run my fastest toward Grammy’s house, but even in my bare feet on the sand, I’m no match for Sabin’s long legs. He beats me down the beach and up the stone steps to the house. He waits on the deck as I catch up.

  Grammy takes her time walking back. When she gets to her kitchen, she pops a pan of biscuits into the oven and starts a skillet of bacon sizzling on the stove. The whole house smells like yummy breakfast.

  Sadora has taken the time to get dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. She has put on makeup and combed her hair. She walks into the kitchen, looking fresh and ready for the day.

  “You look like a flower from Grammy’s garden,” I tell her.

  “Is that good?” she asks.

  “I guess so. At least you don’t look like a weed!” We laugh and glance at Sabin.

  “Who are you calling a weed?” he asks. His mouth is full of the peanut butter sandwich Grammy gave him so he would not starve before breakfast. “I might be skinny, but at least my hair doesn’t explode!” He grins at me.

  I glance into a mirror and I almost scream. My hair does not like damp ocean air. It is puffy and bushy and frizzy. And I don’t have any hair gel.

  “I look like a dandelion!” I yell.

  Grammy looks up from slicing bananas for fruit salad. “Relax, Sassy. You’re on vacation. I’ll help you fix your hair a little later.”

  Daddy and Mom come into the kitchen. Mom kisses Grammy on the cheek. “Can I help you with anything?” she asks.

  “Breakfast is ready,” Grammy announces. “Let’s eat!”

  Poppy enters the kitchen just as she says the food is ready. He’s a lot like Sabin. “I’m starving!” he says in his booming voice.

  “Grab a biscuit and grab a chair,” Grammy tells him cheerfully.

  “Can we talk about the party now?” Sabin asks after he finishes two plates of eggs and grits and fruit.

  Grammy looks pleased. “The people who are bringing the food to the party called me this morning,” she tells us. “They will deliver it Thursday morning. I think we have enough to feed a small army.”

  “You’re not cooking?” Sabin asks as he eats another biscuit thick with butter and jelly.

  “Goodness, no,” Grammy says. “It’s my birthday! Besides, I don’t think I can cook enough to fill up both you and Poppy, Sabin!”

  “What about the cake?” Sadora asks.

  “The bakery called yesterday, and the cake will be delivered on Thursday also.”

  “How big is it?” Sabin wants to know.

  “Huge!” Grammy tells him. “It might take you all day to finish it!”

  “Chocolate?” Sabin looks hopeful.

  “Half is chocolate and half is vanilla,” Grammy explains. “The icing is cherry.”

  “Ooh, yum!” I say.

  “Will the band play oldies music, or cool songs we like?” Sadora asks.

  Grammy laughs. “Since I’m the birthday girl, I get to pick the music. And I love the old jams!”

  Poppy jumps up from his chair, grabs Grammy around the waist, and the two of them dance, old style, in the kitchen.

  Sadora slumps into her chair with a laugh. “We’re doomed, Sabin! Old-school music all night long!”

  “I’ve got my iPod,” Sabin says. “Maybe we can sneak in some real music later on.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Sadora says.

  “You’ll set everything up on your deck?” Daddy asks Grammy and Poppy.

  “The band will need electricity for their amps and speakers,” Poppy says, “so they will need to be on the deck.”

  “What about the food?” Sabin asks.

  “Great question!” Poppy replies.

  “You certainly do have a one-track mind!” Grammy tells them. “The food will be on the deck also, just so it is close to the kitchen. Everything else will spill onto the beach.”

  I look out of Grammy’s huge picture window. The sun is hiding behind thin purple clouds. The sand looks gray instead of yellow. I shiver a little.

  “What will we do if it rains?” I ask quietly. I don’t want to think of anything worse.

  “Has anybody checked on what’s happening with the hurricane?” Mom asks.

  Daddy looks at Poppy. They have been very quiet during most of our talk about
the party. Finally, Daddy says, “The storm is getting closer, and getting stronger. It does not look good.”

  After breakfast we are glued to Poppy’s big-screen television. The weather forecasters seem to love storms. Every five minutes they give updates on what might happen. Every station tries to outdo the other.

  “The storm is heading this way!” one announcer says on Channel Three.

  “Prepare for the worst,” says the weatherman on Channel Five.

  “Wind! Rain! Thunder! Lightning!” the Channel Seven weather lady reports.

  The weather people draw circles and arrows on weather maps, pointing to where the storm might hit. All of them look extremely excited and happy. They look like they want to jump up and dance.

  I don’t feel like dancing. Grammy’s party is going to be messed up. How can we dance on the beach in a hurricane? Our whole family looks sad.

  Grammy speaks first. “Today is Tuesday. The storm is due on Thursday. We need to prepare.”

  “But Thursday is your birthday!” I wail.

  “There’s still a chance it will turn and go back out to sea,” Sadora says hopefully.

  “Suppose it doesn’t?” Sabin asks quietly.

  “This house is really tough,” Poppy says with confidence. “We had it built with storms in mind. It is made of stone.”

  “Stones don’t blow in the wind?” I ask. I’m a little scared.

  “The windows are made of glass,” Sadora says as she looks at the huge picture window that faces the ocean.

  “You’re right, Sadora, but Grammy and Poppy have storm shutters on most of the windows. The others we can board up,” Daddy reminds her.

  Grammy looks brave and relaxed. “Our home has weathered many big storms. And one small hurricane!” She takes Poppy’s hand into hers.

  “How bad was it?” I ask.

  “Oh, it was about this bad!” Grammy says as she reaches for me. I guess she can see I’m a little scared, because she tickles me until I can’t stop laughing.

  In spite of all my giggles, Sadora says seriously, “All the weather forecasters are saying this storm is a Category One.” I can tell she is really hoping this one will go away.

  “Storms can grow,” Mom adds.

  I wonder about the sea turtles. “Daddy, are sea turtles safe in a hurricane?”

  He stops to think. “Probably so,” he says slowly. “Except for nesting, they live in the ocean all their lives. So I guess they’re used to riding the big waves.”

  “But what about the babies in the nests on the beach?” I ask.

  “I have heard of storm surges washing away turtle nests,” Daddy tells me honestly.

  “Oh, no!” I exclaim. “Me and Grammy found a sea turtle nest on the beach! What will happen to the eggs if we have a big storm?”

  “If the storm is really big, the baby turtles might not make it,” Daddy admits.

  “Can we do anything about it?” Sabin asks.

  “Let’s make some phone calls this afternoon,” Daddy suggests, “and see if we can find some answers.”

  “I’ve got friends I can call in the marine science department at the university,” Poppy adds.

  “Great idea,” Mom agrees. “Sabin, you can check on the Internet and see what you can find out.”

  “In the meantime,” Grammy says, “I need some help.”

  “Just tell us what you need,” Daddy offers.

  Grammy smiles. “Sam, can you and Sabin and Poppy help me board up the windows? We keep wood in the garage, just in case.”

  “Of course!” Daddy tells her. “Sabin, let’s get busy.” Poppy stands and stretches.

  “I’d rather check for sea turtle Web sites,” Sabin replies, looking hopeful.

  “You plan to eat dinner?” Grammy asks him, hands on her hips.

  “Sure! Actually, I’m just about hungry for lunch!”

  “Well, I’m only feeding carpenters this afternoon!”

  “Gotcha.” Sabin jumps up, puts on his sneakers, and heads out to the garage with Daddy and Poppy.

  Mom says, “Sadora and Sassy, let’s go to the supermarket and pick up a few items.”

  Grammy chuckles. “Everybody in town will be there, buying food and flashlights. Plan to stand in line awhile!”

  I love shopping. It doesn’t matter if it’s for clothes or for groceries. I just like being in a store, looking for stuff.

  I run upstairs to change my clothes. Mom brushes my hair and whips it into a puffball with a ponytail holder. I race Sadora to Grammy’s car.

  Instead of using the air conditioner, we roll down the windows. The slight breeze feels good on my face.

  “The air feels thick,” Sadora says.

  “Like soup,” I say, nodding my head.

  “But the sky is blue again, and those clouds don’t look so scary.” Sadora looks up at the sky.

  Grammy is right about the grocery store. Crowds of people are rushing around, throwing items in their metal carts. Long lines of shoppers wait to be checked out at the register.

  “This is worse than the airport,” I whisper to Sadora.

  Mom, dressed in a pretty yellow sundress, looks like a sunflower on a summer day. She grabs a cart.

  “Let’s see what goodies we can find, girls. Everybody seems to have the same plan as we do.”

  Sadora offers, “I’ll go find some bags of ice. How many should I get?”

  “Two or three,” Mom replies.

  Sadora walks off, looking for the ice machine.

  “Should we buy party stuff?” I ask Mom. “You know, like streamers and balloons?”

  “Let’s focus on food,” Mom tells me. She tosses cans of green beans and corn into the cart, along with cans of tuna and salmon.

  “Yuck! Boring!” I tell her. I add a couple of packs of cookies and a box of Frosted Flakes.

  Mom doesn’t make me put them back, so I add several bars of chocolate candy, some corn chips, and a box of microwave popcorn.

  Mom puts the popcorn back on the shelf. “Suppose we lose electricity?” she asks me.

  “Is that possible?” I ask.

  “Absolutely!” Mom tells me.

  Sadora returns empty-handed.

  “Where’s the ice?” I ask her.

  “They’re all sold out,” she tells us. “One lady told me there is no ice left in the whole town.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Mom says. “Let’s see what else we can find, girls. Look for items that do not have to go in the refrigerator.”

  In the fruit section, Sadora chooses bananas and apples and plums. I like oranges, so I add a bag of those.

  “Can we get some canned fruit, Mom?” I ask.

  “Good idea, Sassy,” she says as we head to that aisle. I toss canned pineapple and peaches into our cart. Sadora adds applesauce.

  “Let’s get some bottled water,” Sadora suggests.

  There are only a few cases left. “Wow! I’ve never seen so many empty shelves in a store,” I tell them.

  “Maybe these people know something we don’t know,” Sadora says.

  “They watch the same weather stations we do,” Mom replies. “They’re just like us. They want to be ready.”

  “For what?” I ask.

  “For whatever comes,” she replies.

  That’s a scary answer.

  “Should we buy flashlights and batteries?” Sadora asks as we pass by that section of the store.

  “I’m sure Grammy and Poppy have those in the house,” I tell her. But we get two flashlights and extra batteries anyway, just in case.

  “Let’s buy some candles and matches, also,” Mom suggests.

  We put boxes of juice drinks, crackers, chips, and peanut butter in the cart.

  “Did we get everything we might need?” Mom asks.

  “Toilet paper,” I suggest.

  Mom nods and I go to find two packages.

  “Maybe the party won’t be canceled,” I say hopefully. “Then we won’t need all this stuff.”
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br />   “But maybe we’ll all get blown away like in The Wizard of Oz!” Sadora teases.

  I don’t answer her. I keep thinking about the poor little sea turtle babies all alone on the beach. I wonder if they will get blown away.

  The checkout line is very long.

  “People are buying crazy things,” I whisper to Sadora. “Look at that lady in aisle three. Her whole cart is full of diet soda!”

  Sadora laughs. “I guess she really likes the stuff!”

  “And look at the lady in aisle one,” I say, nudging Sadora. Her cart is filled with toys. Red plastic balls. Dolls. Cars. Games.

  “I bet she has a house full of little kids,” Sadora says. “I guess she wants to keep them busy.”

  We pay for our purchases and head out into the parking lot. The sun has finally broken through the clouds and the day is crisp and clear.

  I look at the sky and smile. “I think everything is gonna be fine, Mom!”

  She loads the groceries into the back of Grammy’s SUV.

  “I certainly hope so, Sassy. But this just might be the calm before the storm.”

  When we get back to Grammy’s house, things have changed. The storm shutters are pulled down. The huge picture window is covered with wood.

  “Her house was so pretty. Now it looks like a stone barn,” I tell Sadora sadly.

  “It’s just temporary, Sassy.”

  “I know, but it still makes me sad. And a little scared,” I admit.

  I can hear the sound of hammering. Sabin and Poppy and Daddy must be working hard. I like to hammer, too. Maybe they will let me help later on.

  We take the groceries into the house. Inside, instead of the sunlight coming through the many windows, the rooms are dim and dark. Grammy has already turned on lights.

  “What is the latest from the Weather Channel?” Sadora asks as she helps Grammy put the canned goods away in the cabinets.

  “The storm is still churning in the ocean. It looks like it is heading straight for us,” Grammy explains.

  I shudder. “It looks like we’re going to have a real adventure!” I’m trying to sound brave.

  Grammy puts the cookies and the candy on a high shelf and the fruit on the counter, where it can be easily reached. I smile at her because I know why she is doing it.