by Amy Sparling
I shove open the stiff cabin door and lock it and then deposit the key back into the box at the front of the campgrounds. Then my spider-less car and me get the hell out of there.
The clock on my dash says it’s just after four in the morning. Good enough for me. I hit the road with a vague sense of which direction I’m supposed to be driving. Once I get back to the main road that cuts through Blackwell, I see some other cars and it feels good to finally be back in civilization. I keep an eye out for a convenient store or fast food place that’s open this early so I can stop and get some breakfast before looking up the GPS on my phone.
Just as I’m puling into a Jack-in-the-box, my phone lights up with a call. An actual phone call, what a miracle! Ethan’s name isn’t on my screen, but rather a series of random numbers, but maybe he’s calling from another sat phone or something.
“Hello?” I say, unable to hide the smile in my voice. The greasy smell of food coming from the restaurant makes me even happier. Soon this crap will be over. I’ll have breakfast, and then I’ll be with my boyfriend, and we’ll be able to watch the hurricane unfold from the safety of the Poe’s hotel room.
“Is this Ella?”
The timid voice on the other end of the line is so familiar but I can’t place it. “Yes,” I say. “Who is this?”
“Oh, Ella, it’s so good to hear your voice! This is your Aunt Donna.”
I swallow. When I was a kid, I loved my aunt so much. She’s about ten years older than my mom and always smelled like sugary coffee. She’d bring me gifts and teach me how to cook and we’d have a great time together. But my mom never let her take me to the movies, or anywhere else for that matter. Aunt Donna didn’t babysit me or do anything that normal aunts do. She would come over and share her world of whimsy with me for a few hours, and then she’d leave.
It wasn’t until I was much older that my mom told me why Aunt Donna was a little different from other people. She was a free spirit who had also been diagnosed with a handful of mental illnesses. She wasn’t a danger, my mom assured me, but she also couldn’t totally be trusted. It seemed weird to me at the time, and it still does. Aunt Donna has always been nice and sweet to me. But she lives in a halfway house and has never married or dated or gotten a job or anything else that “normal” people do.
Sometimes I hate that she’s stuck in that halfway house that Mom and Grandma arranged for her, but the few times I’ve seen her over the last years, she doesn’t seem to mind. I guess if she’s happy, then it doesn’t matter.
“Hi,” I say as I stare up at the sign in the window of the Jack-in-the-Box. It’s advertising an iced coffee that looks delicious. “What’s up?”
“Honey, I’m so glad you answered. I’ve been calling all night. Your momma told me she’s in Louisiana but she said you might be able to help me if we’re close to each other.”
I sit up a little straighter. “What’s wrong? Where are you?”
Her home is located just north of Galveston island which means she definitely would have had to evacuate.
“I’m at a place called Kountry Korner and it’s spelled with K’s instead of C’s. That’s kind of stupid if you ask me. I lost my group that I was travelling with. They just left me, can you believe it? I’ve spent the last two damn nights sleeping on the ground like some kind of hobo and no one treats me with any respect. I keep telling them I have do a place to live, I just had to leave it.”
My heart aches. Knowing my Aunt Donna, she’s probably wearing her beloved thrift store clothing, and her long dark hair is probably messy like always. Even if she was homeless, that doesn’t give people the right to treat her like shit. People are people no matter what’s in their bank account.
“I know where that is,” I say. How could I forget a store with such a stupid name? It was the last store I saw before I entered Blackwell. “I’ll come get you.”
“Sweetheart, you’re such a blessing,” she says. “I knew I could count on you.”
It makes me feel good to be of some use, and I try thinking of the last time I saw my Aunt Donna. I guess it was two Christmases ago when Mom brought her to our house for the day.
I make a quick trip through the drive thru and then call my mom. She doesn’t answer, probably because it’s four in the morning, but I leave her a voicemail message telling her about Aunt Donna. Then I take a sip of my iced coffee which is just as good as the picture made it look, and I call Ethan.
“Baby,” he answers. The one word, spoken in a raspy sleepy voice, makes my heart warm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m perfect,” I say, unable to hide my smile now that I’m talking to him again. I guess the cell phone towers are finally calming down and letting calls go through again.
I tell him that I’m back on the road but that I have to pick up my aunt first. He tells me which route to take, and I don’t think I’ll have trouble remembering it. All we have to do once I pick up my aunt is take a right on a county road and ride it straight to I-45 and then it’s a straight shot to De Sota. Ethan tells me that the interstate is still open on both sides of the road, all lanes going north. So we’ll be able to make it to our destination in no time. He also tells me what he’s seen on the news, about how the storm just touched down on the coast as a category five.
I try not to think about the damage being caused right now. I just need to focus on getting back safely. Ethan and I both agree that his parents probably won’t mind if I bring my aunt. If we don’t have enough beds, I’ll just sleep on the floor. I’m pretty sure their nice hotel suite won’t have spiders the size of my head crawling around. Ethan talks to me the whole time I’m driving down to the Kountry Korner store. It feels like a part of my soul has been put back into place, and I’m energized with hope and happiness again.
These last twenty four hours sucked, but they’re almost over. The sun will be up in an hour, and we’ll be so close to the hotel, it won’t take long at all to get there. Ethan says he’ll leave soon and meet me at the hotel. He doesn’t say much about his night, but that’s probably because I spend the whole time talking about what a nightmare mine was.
“I can’t wait to see you,” I say.
“You have no idea how badly I want to see you,” Ethan says. “I’m going to wrap my arms around you and never let go.”
“I’m not sure they’ll want me attending my college classes with you holding onto me.” I’m trying to be playful, but the mention of college sends a stinging ache through my chest. Just because we’re dealing with this stupid storm doesn’t mean all my real life problems have gone away. If anything, they’ve only been made worse. This week was supposed to be my last fun time with Ethan. Now it’s all ruined, and he’s probably going to be pushed even further from me once I go to college.
He chuckles, seemingly unaware of how much my own comment hurt me. “Drive safe, okay? I’ll head out soon. As soon as we get to the hotel, we’re hitting the hot tub. Just you and me.”
I swallow down my pain. “Sounds good. I love you.”
“I love you too, baby,” he says, and it doesn’t sound like anything’s wrong. I hold onto that hope as I find the sign for Kountry Korner and pull into the parking lot. It’s a combination gas station and diner, and there’s already some people eating inside. I don’t have to look hard to find my aunt.
She’s the tall woman wearing a long patchwork skirt and a black tank top that shows off her tanned skin. She has two tattered suitcases beside her, and she waves excitedly as I get out of my car. She looks pretty much exactly how I remember her. Her skin is weathered from years of being in the sun, making her look older than she is. She’s thin and tall, and has a smile that fills her whole face like Julia Roberts.
“Hey, darlin’,” she says, wrapping me in a hug that smells faintly of coffee and body odor. I can’t complain because I’m pretty sure I smell the same way.
I’m starting to think that this little detour will be okay. Aunt Donna seems fine, and even though we’ve never been alone
together before, I think having someone to talk to in the car ride will be better than being all by myself. Plus, I’m an adult now. There’s nothing to be worried about.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask.
“Yep,” she says. “I spent my last five bucks on breakfast and coffee. There’s nothing left for me here.”
I take her suitcases and carry them toward my car.
“Wait a second,” Aunt Donna says. Then she turns to the side and calls out, “Roscoe! Come meet Ella!”
I lift an eyebrow. She hadn’t said she was with anyone, and the sudden thought of bringing some strange man in my car does not sit well with me.
But then a large dog lumbers toward us, his tail wagging and his mouth hanging open in a big smile. He walks right up to me and licks my hand.
“This is Roscoe?” I ask.
Aunt Donna nods and pats him on the head. The dog is huge, probably two hundred pounds and all shaggy white fur. “I hope it’s okay that he comes along, too? He’s my best friend. I can’t live without him.”
I stare into my car’s backseat which barely has enough room for Aunt Donna’s two suitcases. My trunk is full of my stuff, and the front seats aren’t made to accompany a gigantic bear of a dog.
“Sure,” I say, wondering if pets are allowed at the Poe’s swanky hotel.
It’s not like things could possibly get any more complicated.
Chapter 16
Kennedy: Where are you? Did you leave!?!
I take a bite of my waffle while I stare at Kenney’s text on my phone. It’s just after seven in the morning and the hotel’s deluxe breakfast bar has just opened. I’m closer to De Sota than Ella is, so I figured I could stay just long enough to fill up on free breakfast foods before I hit the road.
Kennedy was still asleep when I woke up this morning. It was easy to get dressed, grab my backpack, and slip out the door. It had been even easier to step into the hallway when Ella called me at four in the morning earlier. Kennedy sleeps like the dead.
I was planning on texting her before I left just so she knows I’m gone. I set down my fork and type out a reply.
Me: I’m getting breakfast downstairs. I’ll leave after this.
Kennedy: Wait, you can’t leave yet. I have to come with you.
I roll my eyes. We already agreed that she’ll stay here until after the hurricane has passed and we all get to go back home. I ignore her text and go back to my food, but soon she’s blowing up my phone in typical Kennedy fashion.
Kennedy: Hello?
Kennedy: don’t leave me!!
Kennedy: come back up here asap!
Kennedy: Answer me?!?!?
I feel like ignoring her some more just for fun, but then she’d probably barge down here and scream at me. I reply, telling her I’ll be there in a minute, and then I take my sweet time finishing my breakfast.
Kennedy is dressed in jean shorts and a WCHS cheer T-shirt when I return to the hotel room. Her stuff seems to be packed up as well, judging by the overstuffed suitcase on her bed.
“There you are,” she says, throwing me a nasty look. “I thought you were going to abandon me.”
“We already agreed that you’re staying here,” I say.
She shakes her head. “Apparently my dad could only get me one night here. We have to check out by noon and they have no more rooms available.”
My chest constricts. Please, God, tell me this isn’t true. “Are you serious? What about other hotels around here?”
She shrugs. “All the hotels are booked. So you have to take me with you.”
Her eyes widen when she sees my hesitation. “Ethan! You have to take me! I don’t even have my car here. I’d be stranded.”
I take a deep breath. There wasn’t going to be room for Kennedy at my parent’s hotel anyway, and now that Ella is bringing her aunt, there’s really no room. But I’m not a horrible person who would leave her literally stranded here.
I exhale and feel a dread rising up in my bones. Ella is going to kill me.
“I guess we’ll figure something out,” I say, shifting my backpack on my shoulders. It doesn’t weigh much, but suddenly it feels like a thousand pounds pressing on me.
“Let’s go,” I say. Kennedy doesn’t object, and for once she doesn’t talk the entire time while we walk to the elevators and then head out to my truck. It’s a sunny day here, which is ironic because just a hundred miles south of us is being hit by one of the strongest hurricanes we’ve had in a century. My phone has all kinds of notifications, especially from Snapchat which I barely use on normal days. I ignore them all because none are from Ella, and I tell my parents we’re headed that way.
I set my GPS for my parent’s hotel, and then I get on the interstate. Both sides of the road are going north, and although there’s plenty of people on the road, the traffic is flowing at the speed limit. I’ll be there in half an hour.
It’s ironic how ever since Ella and I left our homes for the evacuation, I’d been desperately wanting to get to my parent’s hotel. But now that Kennedy is sitting next to me playing on her phone, I wish the trip would take a lot longer. As soon as I get there I’ll have to tell Ella what happened. I’ll have to explain why my bitch of an ex-girlfriend is here and will be staying in the same hotel with us. I wouldn’t be surprised if I have two ex-girlfriends by the end of this trip.
I shake the thought away. Ella won’t break up with me. Our love is real and our relationship is the kind that lasts. We never fight or even argue, and that’s saying something. My relationship with Kennedy was about ninety percent fighting. What Ella and I have is special and we can get through this. She’ll probably be annoyed, but she’ll understand.
Maybe my parents will break the no sleeping together rule and let us share a bed since the hotel is going to be pretty crowded.
I turn on the radio and listen to the news updates on the storm. Kennedy groans, dragging out the sound so that she’s more annoying than usual.
“Do we have to listen to this crap?” she says, looking up from her phone to give me a glare. “I’m so sick of the news.”
“I’m trying to stay updated on the storm that’s going to blow through our town,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “My house is strong, so I’m not worried about it.”
I turn up the volume and secretly hope that her bedroom windows bust out and all of her favorite things get ruined. That’ll teach her.
“So is Ella mad that you’re taking me?” Kennedy asks.
I focus on the road, and don’t look over at her. She could always tell when I’m lying. I give a casual shrug. “She’s not exactly your biggest fan.”
“Well it’s not like I want to be here,” she says with a scoff. “Is she pissed at you? Did she tell you to leave me?”
I don’t have to look at her to know what kind of expression she has right now. It’s that fiery glow she gets when she’s hearing gossip. Kennedy would want nothing more than to know her very presence is pissing off my girlfriend. After all, Kennedy still holds onto the false belief that Ella stole me away from her.
I guess I don’t answer fast enough because Kennedy gasps. “Oh my God, you did tell your girlfriend, right?” She grabs my arm. “Did you lie to her?”
I grit my teeth. “My relationship is none of your business.”
She laughs. “This’ll be great. Ella will be so pissed. If she’s not already…”
That last part feels like a threat, but I don’t feel like getting involved with Kennedy’s stupid games. Nothing would make her happier than seeing me and Ella get into a huge fight over her. Well, I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen.
We reach the exit for De Sota and now the hotel is just a few miles away. I text Ella at a stop light.
Me: I’m almost there. What about you?
Ella: soon
That’s kind of weird for Ella to write a one word text, but she’s probably speeding down the highway trying to get here as soon as possible. I can feel Kenn
edy’s amusement from across the cab of my truck, and I make a promise to myself that by the time Ella arrives, I’ll have figured out a way to smooth this over.
I’ll just have to get to Ella before Kennedy does. And I’ll explain it all. And we won’t fight.
And Kennedy can shut her stupid gossipy mouth because there won’t be any drama for her to witness.
Chapter 17
Roscoe smells like a dog who has spent his entire life in a sweaty locker room filled with pigs. It’s not just that normal dog smell when a dog is dirty or has been outside a while. It’s about a thousand times worse than that. I know I probably smell too, since I’ve only given myself a fresh coat of deodorant in the last two days instead of a real shower, and Aunt Donna isn’t too great herself, but the dog makes the air a stifling fog of stank.
I drive with the windows down and the air conditioning cranked. Aunt Donna insisted that Roscoe was fine in the back seat laying on top of her bags, and so far he doesn’t look too uncomfortable. The massive white dog hangs his head out of the window, letting a stream of drool splatter all over the outside of my car.
I’m starting to think that letting the car get taken in the hurricane would have been a better fate for this poor thing.
But at least we’re on the road, and the traffic isn’t bad, and for the first time since I left my house, I know exactly where to go. It’s a straight shot up Interstate 45, and then we exit at the De Sota exit. It’s easy to remember, but I keep repeating it to myself anyway.
I get plenty of cell phone signal now, so I have my phone plugged into the car’s USB port to charge and the GPS is locked onto our hotel. I refuse to get lost again.
