CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Julia had been wiping her eyes and hadn’t seen the car swept away. Now she looked up and screamed, “Where’s the car? Where’s Owen?”
I needed to go back and help them, but I knew I couldn’t get her the remainder of the way to Moe’s car and get back in time. I wasn’t even certain I knew where to go back to, because with the water swirling in so many directions, I had quickly lost my bearings on where the car had been and where the three men should be. I screamed in Julia’s ear, “Put your arms around this pole and hold on until I get back. Don’t let go under any circumstance. I’ll go back and get Owen.”
Screaming back at me “Hurry, please hurry,” she encircled the pole with her arms and locked her hands together.
I started fighting my way back in the direction I believed I had last seen the three guys. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the water. I had so much water in my eyes that I couldn’t identify who it was, but from the sheer size I believed it must be Moe. He was hunched over, probably disgorging flood water and maybe looking for the other two. While watching him, I tripped on something and nearly went underwater again myself. I refocused on my journey, but changed my direction to an angle between Moe and the area of the Intracoastal where I believed I had last seen the Mini. If that was the course the car had taken, it was probably the direction Justin and Owen would have been pulled.
I was about ten yards away from Moe when I saw him pull something up from the water. He had the rag doll that turned out to be Justin doubled over his clenched arms, evidently attempting to pump water out of him. Suddenly, Justin’s arms started to flail and he began the coughing fit we had all experienced in the past ten minutes. When I reached them, we all three locked in an awkward embrace in an effort to maintain our balance in the swift moving water, which was now midway up my thigh.
I called out against the wind, “Any idea where Owen is? Did he get out of the car?”
Justin shook his head and yelled, “Last I saw him, he was still half in the car. I don’t know if he got out or not.”
I hollered, “Let’s lock arms and walk this way,” indicating the direction toward the Intracoastal, “and see if we can find him. Maybe he got out.”
Without another word the three of us locked arms and walked slowly with the current toward the Intracoastal. It was impossible to see into the dark, swirling water, so I shuffled my feet as we moved forward in an effort to feel for anything, hopefully Owen. It was getting easier to move, but more difficult to stay upright. I realized that the closer we got to the Intracoastal, the more powerful the current became. Almost simultaneously, all three of us stopped moving. Justin was the one to say what we were all thinking. “If we go any closer, we’re going to be swept into the Intracoastal.”
Moe and I nodded and we slowly turned our six-legged trinity and started back in the direction of Julia. When we reached her, Julia was still hugging the utility pole, although she had worked her way around the pole so that she could look in the direction we were searching. She cried, “Where’s Owen? Where’s Owen? You’re not going to leave Owen, are you?”
Attempting to speak compassionately but still project my voice over the wind and rain, I said, “Julia, we had no choice. Owen is gone. There is nothing we could do.”
She let go of the pole and began pounding me on the chest with both fists as she screamed, “Where’s Owen? Where’s the car? You find Owen. You’re not leaving him here.”
Moe said to me, “Boss, the water’s rising. We need to get out of here before my car floods and we can’t go anywhere.”
I wrapped my arms around Julia and pressed her against me, smothering her blows as I said, “Julia, I’m sorry, but we must go now. If we don’t go now, we may all die.” I could feel her body tremble as she quit struggling and began sobbing. Slowly, I turned her and began guiding her toward Moe’s car.
Reaching Moe’s car, we found the water level in the center of the street where he had stopped to be just under the door sills. Moe was right—if we didn’t move soon, we wouldn’t be leaving at all. At least not by car. Justin got in the front seat with Moe and I got into the back seat with Julia. She sat slumped over against the door, sobbing uncontrollable while repeating Owen’s name over and over.
With the palm tree resting on my car blocking that direction, Moe backed up the street until he found a spot where he felt he could execute a three-point turn. Once we were headed the opposite direction, I asked Moe if he had any ideas for getting across the Intracoastal. He glanced in the mirror, making eye contact with me, and said, “No ideas here, Boss. You got any?”
I replied, “None. Marge said you couldn’t get to a bridge going north some time ago. The water has risen considerably since then, so I don’t think there is any use in taking a chance going that direction.”
We fell silent for a minute, the only human sound in the car being Julia’s sobbing. Justin spoke first. “Our only option is to go back to Cap’s Place and ride it out. Or at least hold up there until the authorities come along to evacuate people trapped . . . people like us.”
I asked, “You think they’ll be doing that? Evacuating people? You saw how fast the water was rising.”
Justin shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea.”
Twice on the way back to Cap’s Place I thought the water would stall the car, but Moe managed to maneuver around the deepest spots and keep it running. By the time we pulled into the parking lot, the rain had picked up even more. I thought maybe we were now feeling the first of the rain bands of Ella. Moe parked as close to the rear door as he could and I jumped out first to unlock the door. I experienced momentary panic when I couldn’t find the keys in my pocket, but I finally found them and got the door unlocked. Moe and Justin had hurried up the steps and into the bar before we realized that Julia was still in the car. I went back and got her out of the car, half walking and half carrying her inside.
We were grateful to find the power still on. Several of the blocks we had driven through had no streetlights or traffic lights on. It was no surprise with the number of transformers we had seen spewing sparks like Fourth of July fireworks. It was difficult to tell if the power was on in many of the buildings though, because so many were shuttered. Moe suggested we get our flashlights at the ready because it was likely our power would go out soon. Part of Mickey’s preparedness plan was a supply of flashlights and a couple of battery-operated lanterns.
Justin and I went upstairs and I loaned him an ill-fitting set of dry clothes while Moe went into the office and changed into the set he had brought with him when he came back this morning. I brought an old shrunken sweatsuit of mine and a pair of flat sandals Elena had left behind on one of her last visits downstairs and offered them to Julia, but she didn’t even budge from the corner of the booth where she was curled up in a ball. I left everything on the table.
We were all banged up a little from being knocked around in the water, but the worst of our injuries were a couple of lacerations on my hand. The edges of palm fronds are sharp as razors. I must have cut my hand when I was dislodging the fronds from us in the water. I used the first-aid kit in the kitchen to clean and bandage myself. I was diligent in cleaning the wounds. It would be a shame to survive a hurricane and end up with flesh-eating bacteria.
I went into the office to attempt to call the police on the landline. All three of our cell phones were in the pretzel warmer behind the bar. We had each been carrying our phones in our pockets when we entered the flood waters. Justin suggested drying them in the warmer and praying the god of cellular service would smile on us. I was not very hopeful, but we certainly had nothing to lose. I went into the office, rather than use the bar phone, because I didn’t want Julia to overhear the conversation as I reported Owen being swept into the water. After thirty minutes of dialing and redialing to again hear a recording tell me that all lines were busy, to place my call again later, I gave up and returned to the bar area.
Moe and Justin were sitting at
the bar eating sandwiches. Moe had gone into the kitchen and made a platter of cold sandwiches. He said a hot meal sounded good, but he was too tired to go through the hassle of turning the gas on and lighting the pilot lights. Realizing I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, I told him the cold sandwiches looked great. Justin nodded toward Julia balled up in the booth and said, “We need to get some food in her, too. What was her husband’s name? Owen?”
I nodded in the affirmative to his question and Justin put a sandwich on a plate and walked over to Julia. Moe and I just looked at each other as Justin sat down near Julia and began to speak quietly to her. After a few minutes Julia sat upright. Justin pushed the plate toward her and she reached out and took a half sandwich. He continued to speak quietly. Now she was nodding in agreement. After a few minutes she reached out and pulled the pile of clothes I had left closer to her. She looked at the clothes and said something to Justin and they both chuckled. We couldn’t hear what was being said between the two of them, but obviously Justin had said something that at least temporarily pulled her from the depths of her grief. This was not a role I would have expected Justin to undertake.
Moe had turned the television behind the bar on in hopes of getting weather information, but all we got was the elegantly printed notice that we had no signal. Obviously, the satellite system was out. I told Moe that I couldn’t believe that we didn’t have a radio in the whole place and we decided that Mickey was at fault for not telling us in his preparedness materials that we needed an emergency radio. Moe said he would dig Marge’s computer out of the storeroom and we could see if we could get to the internet. I remembered that my laptop was upstairs and told him it would be much easier to use it.
I had just returned with my laptop when Justin rejoined Moe and me at the bar. He said Julia had gone into the ladies’ room to change. I asked him what magic words he had said to pull her back to life. He shrugged, looked me in the eyes, and said, “I don’t know, Jack. I guess if you have experienced enough grief, and observed others experiencing grief often enough in your life, you eventually internalize a feel for how to deal with it.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Second Mate Cox entered the bridge and asked the helmsman if he had intentionally decreased their speed. “No, it’s the weather. Engineering’s giving us all she’s got. Hope it doesn’t get much worse.” The pounding of the rain and howling of the wind was nearly deafening on the elevated bridge. It seemed as if any minute their glass house would implode from the pressure.
Cox thought to herself, You have no idea how bad it’s going to get. It was impossible to see ahead from the bridge, even with the wipers sweeping at full speed and the bow lights on high. It was as if you were looking through glass into a dark churning aquarium. The onboard weather radar left no doubt about what lay ahead though. They were heading directly toward Ella, a major hurricane.
The wind was buffeting the huge ship and it was now impossible to turn away. To attempt to turn would put them broadside to the thirty-foot waves that were now breaking over the bow. They must keep their bow into the wind and waves if they were to have any chance. Yet, the sea seemed to be roiling in all directions at once. Chief Nilsson was now on the bridge. He turned to Cox and said, “Engineering says that they’re having problems keeping the power plant operating. The beating we’re taking, listing from side to side, is setting off low oil sensors in the engine. Every time one of these sensors goes off, the power plant starts to shut down. They keep having to override them. That’s part of the reason we keep losing speed.”
Looking out the bridge wing back toward the stern, Cox could now see water washing over the decks and around the stacks of containers the entire length of the ship. She wiped her eyes in hopes that she wasn’t seeing the swaying of the container stacks that she perceived. Every time the ship rocked back to an upright position it seemed as if the containers continued to sway. If the lashings were loosening, it could cause a sudden weight shift. This thought was not frightening, it was terrifying. She hoped it was just an illusion and not reality. She could get a better view from the open bridge area extending thirty feet farther out from the enclosed bridge, but that would be suicide in this weather.
The telephone next to Nilsson rang and he grabbed it from the cradle just as a huge wave hammered the ship, nearly knocking them to the floor. “Nilsson here.” He listened for several seconds and then said, “All right, Dotson, advise as soon as you know more.” After hanging up the phone, he turned to Cox and said, “That was Chief Engineer Dotson. A hatch cover has popped open. We’re taking on water. He’s sent a crew to seal the impacted compartment to minimize the amount of water we take on.”
In an attempt to be heard over the din of the storm, the helmsman yelled out, “Sloshing water in the hold ain’t going to improve handling of this old tub.” Just then a loud siren sounded on the bridge. The helmsman quickly silenced the alarm and toggled several switches and levers. He called over his shoulder, “Waves are too strong for the autopilot. Kicked it off, but I got it reset . . . for now.”
Just then the captain returned to the bridge. “Having fun yet, gang?” His voice and the grin he wore were both strained. Just then the ship seemed to pitch and roll at the same time as if it were a breeching whale. Everyone was knocked to the deck with the exception of the helmsman who was belted into his chair. After righting themselves, Captain Clark said to Nilsson, “Status report, Chief Mate.”
Nilsson brought the captain up to date on the status of the ship. Without comment Clark walked to the weather radar screen and pushed several buttons, pulling up various views of the weather around them. He muttered to no one in particular, “Damn thing should have turned by now.” Turning toward Nicole Cox, he asked, “Any recommendations, Second Mate?” His voice lacked the condescending tone of earlier conversations.
Cox sucked in a deep breath and replied, “It looks to me like the storm is increasing in speed and intensity as it moves toward land. I recommend that we alter course easterly and decrease speed as much as possible in order to pass through the back side of the storm. Let it cross in front of us as much as possible. That’s the only option to improve our chances I see at this time.”
Nilsson spoke up and said, “If we do that Captain we need to be careful not to get ourselves broadside to the waves nor to slow to the point we can’t ride over them.”
Clark nodded and said, “Captain’s got the conn.” With that he strode confidently across the pitching deck of the bridge up to helmsman and gave him several orders. Next he picked up the telephone and advised Chief Engineer Dotson what they were doing. After hanging up the phone, he announced, “Engineering can’t get the hatch resealed, so they are attempting to get some pumps going to reduce the volume of water in the compartment.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
My laptop told us that I had no internet connection. A quick check of the modem in the office indicated that we had no incoming service. Evidently, the cable service was down just like the satellite. Moe said that he could go out into his car and try to get something on his car radio. Justin said he didn’t think it was worth the effort. We know the hurricane is coming. When and how intense is really not significant if we can’t get out. The only thing that would change our situation was if someone came to get us. I said I could attempt to get through to the police again, but Justin suggested that I call someone outside of the area being impacted and ask them to attempt to reach the local authorities for us. He was afraid that even our landline phone would be down soon. As if he was prophetic, I picked up the bar phone and found a dead line.
Julia, with my old sweatsuit hanging on her like a scarecrow, had joined us at the bar. The four of us were sitting around the corner at one end of the bar, finishing Moe’s platter of sandwiches and a large bag of potato chips he had added to the meal. None of us thought alcohol was a good idea at this time, so we had opted for Cokes. Julia drank water. Earlier, I had ingested all of the water I wanted for awhile. The episodes of flickering
lights were becoming more frequent, so each of us stuck a flashlight in our pocket. It was going to be only a matter of time until the power went out.
Moe gave Justin and me a verbal lesson on how to start the generator. It wasn’t a complicated process, other than the fact that you would need to go outside to do it. Moe had suggested a couple of years ago that we have a remote start installed inside the building, but I didn’t want to spend the money. After all, we never used the generator. Another great decision, Jack.
Although Julia was sitting with us, it seemed as if she was somewhere else. She was no longer curled in a fetal position sobbing, but she was sitting with her chin on her steepled arms just staring down at the bar. None of our efforts to pull her into the conversation were successful. I guess I couldn’t blame her—after all a few hours ago she was on her honeymoon with her new husband, and now she was a widow trapped in a hurricane with three strangers.
After we finished eating, I told Julia that I had a guest room upstairs if she would like to lie down and rest awhile. I didn’t expect her to take me up on the offer, so her acceptance surprised me. I took her upstairs and showed her the bedroom and the guest bath. I made certain that she placed the flashlight on the bedside table. If she napped at all it was likely that she would awake without electric lights available. The last thing she made me do before I left her was promise that we would not leave her alone. “Please don’t leave me alone. Please don’t.” I promised not to.
When I got back downstairs, I found Moe and Justin still in the same spots at the bar. I guess there was really nothing else to do, just wait and react to whatever Ella brought us. I was certain that we wouldn’t be leaving Cap’s Place anytime soon. I took my usual stool and swallowed the last drink of my Coke. I hesitantly asked, “So, do you guys really think we did everything we could to find Owen?”
Chaotic Be Jack (The Cap's Place Series Book 5) Page 8
