Hurricane Boy

by Laura Dragon

  “I bumped my knee,” Hollis said, feeling that he might as well put his two cents into the injury report.

  When he leaned over to inspect the red mark, he found himself staggering. He straightened and shook his head to clear it. It wasn’t until the floor rocked a second time that he understood. He wasn’t dizzy. The house was—

  “We’re moving,” Leta gasped.

  “I felt it, too,” Hollis said, his eyes popping.

  “Quiet, everyone!” Gee said.

  They all stared in amazement. It happened again. The house pitched like a boat.

  “We have to get out of here!” Hollis cried.

  “The storm!” Leta wailed. “We can’t go out in the storm!”

  “I’d rather be out there than in here if the house falls apart,” Hollis retorted. “We could get stuck under stuff and drown.”

  “Water’s still comin’ up,” Gee said. “I’m sittin’ in a lake.”

  Hollis glanced at his feet. Sure enough, the attic floor was covered. “We’re gonna drown!” he wailed. “Or be crushed! There’s no way out!”

  “Jonas!” Gee said. “Get the axe!”

  Crouching low to avoid hitting the nails, Jonas scrambled to a corner of the attic. He scooted back on his butt, a short-handled camp axe under his arm.

  Hollis stared. How did an axe get in the attic? He smacked his forehead. That’s why Jonas was up here yesterday!

  “Where?” Jonas asked Gee.

  She pointed to the left, where the ceiling slanted almost to the floor. Jonas crawled to the spot and, lying on his back, chopped at the low hanging boards. Bits of wood flew and the musty smell of old timber filled the room. The work was slow because of the nails, but Jonas still hacked away. Finally, a hole gaped large enough to crawl through.

  Jonas sat up, sticking his head through the opening, and ducked back into the attic. “It’s not rainin’. I think it’s over.”

  “Thank God,” Gee said as Jonas disappeared again through the hole. “Hollis, Leta, help me.”

  The two children pulled her to the opening and propped her up until Jonas could get hold of her and drag her out. Hollis followed and helped Jonas lay Gee on the roof.

  “Don’t roll around, Gee,” Jonas said with a grin.

  “That’s enough out of you, Spaghetti,” she said, wiping her tears. She stroked his arm. “Blood. You’re wounded.”

  Jonas twisted his arm to see. “Nail. No big.”

  Leta popped her head out of the hole and scrambled onto the roof, and then Jonas fished out Algie.

  “Gee?” Hollis asked.

  “What?” she answered, as Leta settled next to her.

  “How did Jonas know we’d need an axe?”

  “I told him. Years ago, Miz Jackson said people drowned in their attics durin’ Betsy, because the water came up over the roofs and they couldn’t get out. Jonas puts the axe up here for me when a bad storm is comin’.”

  Hollis shivered. Miz Jackson was a neighbor. Have to thank her when I see her. He gazed around. The choppy gray water had risen so high that the eaves of the house kept disappearing under the waves. The rain had stopped, but black clouds still boiled in the sky.

  “Sit down, boys,” Gee said.

  Everyone sat except Algie, who scrambled on hands and knees toward the edge of the roof. Leta caught his arm and pulled him into her lap.

  “Good catch, Leta!” Gee grinned.

  “I wanna see,” Algie whined, squirming in Leta’s lap. “I wanna see the water.”

  “You can see from here. Anyway, I thought you was scared.”

  “No, I wasn’t! I’m n-never scared!”

  “Look,” Hollis said, pointing to the house next door. “We’re out in the street. Our house did move.”

  “Still movin’,” Jonas said, as they felt a quiver beneath them.

  “Look at them!” Hollis pointed again.

  Across the street, three houses had been pushed into one another. People sat on the roofs of all three. Hollis waved, and one of the men flapped his hand back.

  “Wonder how far we’ll float,” Jonas said.

  “At least the storm is over.” Leta sniffled.

  Jonas scanned the gray sky with its scudding clouds. “I don’t know. It’s still early. Think we’re in the eye?”

  “Maybe,” Gee said. “Or Katrina’s just takin’ a breather.”

  “What’s the ‘I’?” Algie asked, patting his chest.

  “Middle of the storm,” Jonas said. “The quiet part. If we’re in the eye, it’s only halftime.”

  “The winds on the eye wall are the worst,” Leta squeaked. “I don’t want to be in the eye.”

  “The w-worst of the whole hurricane?” Algie asked, his eyes growing rounder. “Is stuff gonna start flyin’ around again?”

  “Probably,” Jonas said. “Good thing you’re not scared.” He rubbed his hand over Algie’s head. “Right?”

  Algie nodded, but he glanced around as if expecting something to sail up and hit him.

  “Maybe nothin’ will get blown up here,” Jonas went on.

  “Maybe?” Leta asked, her voice squeaking higher. A gentle drizzle made her eyelids flutter.

  “Jonas!” Gee said. “Take the axe and cut a two-foot trench along the roof from the hole.”

  Jonas hacked and chopped, the axe bouncing off the shingles before it bit into the faded fiberglass. The wind picked up, buffeting them.

  Not too bad. Hollis’s relief was cut short when he saw a wall of rain moving toward them from down the street. He pointed. “Look!”

  “Leta! Algie!” Gee shouted over the now-whistling wind. “Get on your stomachs. Take hold of the hole in the roof. Jonas! You lay between me and Algie and help hold us down. Hollis, get over between Algie and Leta and help Leta. Everybody, hang onto the trench!”

  No one argued, not even Algie. Everyone did just as she’d asked. Moments later, the storm struck again.

  Chapter 6

  Stranded

  The sharp edges of the shingles dug into Hollis’s arms as he clung to the hole. Fearful of something falling on him, he glanced around in the slashing rain. The sound of the wind whooshing off the peak of the roof caught his eye, and, for an instant, he saw tiny tornadoes dancing there.

  The wind shifted and drove a torrent of water down the slant into Hollis’s face. He ducked his head closer to Leta. A piercing burn across his cheek jarred his clenched eyes open just as Leta’s pigtails, with their hard plastic barrettes clipped on the end, whipped toward his face again. He jerked away and laid his sore cheek against Algie’s back.

  The bangs and crashes returned, but Hollis didn’t dare look again to see what was flying around. For a moment he recalled Jonas talking about the gnomes. “They can’t get in here,” he’d said. We’re outside now. All kinds of things can get to us.

  Leaves and sticks peppered his neck and arms and clung to his skin. A small plastic bottle and other trash skipped across the roof and bounced onto him. Every so often, pelting flecks of debris found an exposed bit of skin. They stung as badly as the time Darnell sneezed while pulling the trigger of the BB gun he’d gotten for his birthday and shot Hollis in the leg. Hollis struggled to see his arms and discovered them peppered with acorns from a neighboring oak.

  A long, slow hour crawled past before the screaming wind and brutal rain lessened. The bombardment of the elements finally over, Hollis let go of the hole and sat up, examining the deep ridges the shingles had left in his arms. Jonas uncurled and helped Leta and Algie wobble into sitting positions, too.

  “Everyone all right?” Gee croaked.

  They nodded. Rising to his knees and then to his feet, Jonas staggered over the peak of the roof and out of sight.

  “Where you going, Jonas?” Hollis called out.

  “Pee.”

  “Oh. Me too. Algie?”

  “Yeah!” Algie grabbed Hollis’s hand and disappeared over the peak as well. Leta waited until they came back.

  “
Need to pee, Gee?” Jonas asked as Leta trudged off. He and Hollis helped Gee roll over onto her back.

  “Actually,” said Gee with a wry grin, “my bladder got taken care of half an hour ago. Right about the time that hit the roof.” She waved at a huge, dead branch that had crashed next to her.

  “I’m hungry,” Algie whined, as Hollis sat him next to Gee. “Y’all got to eat. I didn’t.”

  “Nothin’ to give you now, boy,” Gee said. “Left it all down below.”

  Algie’s whine intensified as Leta reappeared. “It’s not fair! I want my breakfast!”

  Leta took Algie into her lap and sat rocking and whispering to him. Hollis felt at a loss, unsure what to do.

  “I’m beat,” he said, sinking down onto the shingles. “That wind was blowin’ so hard.”

  Leta piped up. “If it was still a Cat Four, it was probably blowing 130 to 150 miles an hour.” She sighed. “I’m tired too. So’s he.” She pointed to the boy in her lap.

  Jonas and Hollis turned their heads. Silence fell.

  “Well tell me,” Gee snapped. “I’m too tired to sit up and check.”

  “Algie’s out cold. Thank you, Jesus!” Jonas said. “No more whinin’ for a while.”

  “Watch your mouth, Jonas!” Gee’s voice lashed out. “Lord’s name in vain!”

  “Nah, Gee! I mean it. I was prayin’. Algie could break glass with that whine. And Leta! Miss Know-It-All. How can you see this mess and talk about wind speeds?” He shook his head.

  “Hollis started it,” Leta said, a hurt expression on her face.

  “That’s okay, Leta,” Gee said. “Stuff you know? I’m proud to hear it.”

  “Thanks, Gee,” Leta said, laying Algie down on the roof, where he rolled over and stuck his thumb in his mouth.

  Hollis lay back, flopped over onto his stomach, and dropped off to sleep.

  Hollis lay on a hot, hard sidewalk. All around him kids played and laughed. His eyes fluttered open, and the sidewalk tilted to a slant and became the quiet roof.

  Blinking, he peeled his sticky arms off the shingles and sat up. Algie and Leta slept next to Gee, who lay on her back, a loud buzzing snore blaring from her open mouth. Nearby, Jonas caught his eye and put a finger to his lips. Hollis nodded. He didn’t want to wake Algie, either.

  He turned his attention outward. The rain had stopped, but clouds still hung overhead. Except for the rooftops, treetops, and light poles, everything lay under dark water.

  Hollis saw their neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Joseph and their eight-year-old son, James, up on their roof. He waved to them, and Mr. Joseph waved back.

  “Y’all ok?” Mr. Joseph called.

  Jonas waved his arms.

  “Ain’t this some jacked-up mess?” Mr. Joseph went on, sounding disgusted.

  Jonas waved again.

  Neighbors sat or paced on roofs as far as Hollis could see. Every so often, he saw an empty roof jutting up from the water. Hollis figured no one in the neighborhood had evacuated. Hope those folks are okay.

  “What time is it?” he whispered to Jonas, who checked his watch.

  “Three,” he said.

  “What do we do now?”

  Jonas shrugged. “Wait. Someone’ll come.”

  “How long you think that’ll take?”

  Jonas glanced around. “Might be a while.”

  “I’m hungry now,” Hollis said. “Whether I had breakfast or not. Wish we had some of Gee’s cabbage.”

  “Yeah! Red beans and rice.”

  “With lots of sausage,” Hollis added and then sighed. “Or just some of that stuff Leta bought yesterday.”

  Jonas nodded. “Before long, you’ll be beggin’ for some of that SPAM.”

  Hollis laughed. “Never!” Anxiety bit at his stomach. “I hope they hurry.”

  “Yeah.”

  Three hours later, Hollis lay on his back, watching clouds march across the sky. I hope Darnell and them got out okay. And everyone else. All my friends and their families, all the kids at school, the football team, the coach. Even the teachers. He sat up. Jonas lay nearby, lip-syncing to himself. Hollis stifled a smile as he watched his brother scrunch up his face like he was hurting. Karaoke-face, Darnell called it. I’m glad he’s keeping that up in his head. Jonas’s singing stinks worse than a sack of farts.

  “Hey, Jonas,” he whispered. “Think the schools are gone?”

  Jonas’s eyes opened wide and he sat up. “Aw, man! Course they are. All this water! What’re we gonna do? We got to go to school.”

  “No we don’t.” Hollis grinned. “Not if we can’t.”

  “Stupid! I’m a senior. Got one year left. I miss a year of school? I get behind. You know how long I been waitin’ for senior year? ’Sides, basketball was gonna start soon.”

  “I never thought of that,” Hollis said. “Our books are down there. Can’t go to school if you don’t have books.” He pointed at the water. “Or a school!”

  “Gotta find a way. Whatta disastrophy.” Jonas clutched his head and rocked.

  “Disastrophy,” Hollis repeated. “Good one.” Jonas loved making up words. “You make that up yourself? Or did Trey or Kamal make it up?”

  “Me. Kamal couldn’t come up with that to save his life.” Jonas brooded and then gave a snort. “What’s Leta gonna do with no school?”

  “Kill herself.” Hollis laughed. “Jonas, everything is underwater. Not just school books. Our games, the TV, all our clothes.”

  Jonas nodded. “Already thought of that. Sucks.”

  “So many things ruined,” Hollis said.

  He frowned as a new thought hit. What about Dad? Is he out here somewhere? Under the water with everything else? He glanced at his brother. Jonas takes off when I talk about Dad. A smile crossed his face. He can’t get away now.

  Chapter 7

  Chopper

  Hollis peeked at the rest of his sleeping family, took a deep breath, and asked Jonas, “Ever wonder where Dad is?”

  Jonas’s head snapped around like a tether ball on its last turn around a pole. Hollis smothered a laugh.

  “Not bad enough up here, Blues? You gotta make it worse?”

  “I’m curious. You’re not? He still in New Orleans? Up on a roof?” He gulped. “Or under one?”

  “Don’t care.” Jonas’s jaw hardened.

  Anger flared in Hollis. “I’m worried about him.”

  “Don’t be,” Jonas snapped. “He ain’t worried about us.”

  “How do you know?”

  Jonas didn’t respond.

  “What happened?” Hollis’s voice grew exasperated. “Gee said something happened. What was it?”

  Jonas glared at him for a moment, but then his eyes fell. “He knocked me down.”

  Hollis couldn’t hear the mumbled words. “What?”

  In a louder voice, Jonas repeated, “Said he was goin’. I went to stop him. And he knocked me down and left anyway.”

  Hollis stared at his brother. In a small voice, he asked, “Did he mean to?”

  Jonas rolled his eyes and said nothing.

  “Oh.”

  Hollis wrapped his arms around his knees and stared out at his inundated neighborhood. The two boys sat in silence, Hollis listening to the sound of the water lapping at the eaves. It made him think of secrets.

  “Sounds like whispering,” he said to Jonas.

  “What does?”

  “The water.” He shivered and turned to Jonas again. “You remember much about him?”

  Jonas scowled. “You gonna keep at me about this?”

  Hollis nodded. “You had him longer than any of us. Who else I’m gonna ask? Not Gee. She hates him.”

  Jonas rubbed the toe of his trainer with his thumb, something he did when he got upset. The rubber pooched, and he peeled off a long strip.

  Hollis watched, frowning. “You’re gonna ruin them,” he said.

  Jonas took his hand away and stared into the water. “You were lucky,” he said at last. “Dad was a wast
e. Never came home except to eat or take money from Mama.”

  “He worked, didn’t he?”

  “He worked—and gambled and drank and did drugs. That took most of the money he made. A lot of the money she made, too.”

  “Oh.” The beginning of a worry nibbled at Hollis. “He ever do anything or say anything that seemed, y’know, good?”

  Jonas frowned. “Used to say ‘work hard.’ But then he’d say ‘play hard,’ so I don’t know. His playin’ got us in a lot of trouble.”

  Hollis waited. “There has to be something. No one’s all bad.”

  Jonas’s forehead wrinkled. “There was a while when I was gettin’ in trouble at school. Fights. With kids. Teachers, too. He said, ‘Don’t let everyone know how you feel. Keep that stuff to yourself.’”

  Hollis nodded. “That sounds good.”

  “Yeah,” Jonas said. “But then he told me to never walk straight up to a man. ‘Good way to get bashed,’ he said. ‘Sometimes you have to come at him from the side, or even the back, to take care of business.’”

  Hollis winced.

  “Man was trouble, I tell ya,” Jonas burst out, smacking the roof with his hand. “Haven’t thought about him for a long time. What I mostly remember is, except for his job, he never did anythin’. Y’know, around the house. He was never around when we needed him. And he lied all the time.”

  “Did he steal?” Hollis asked in a small voice. “I hate people who steal.”

  Jonas shrugged. “Probably. I don’t know. He left when Mama found out she was dyin’ of cancer. I think that’s worse than stealin’.”

  “Maybe he couldn’t handle her dying.”

  Jonas rubbed his shoe again and skinned off another long strip of rubber. “He just didn’t want us around his neck. Sick wife—dyin’ wife—and four kids on top of him when she’s gone? He leaves us with Gee and he’s free.”

  “You think it was us?” Hollis felt stunned. “I asked Gee if it was us that made Dad leave, and she said no.”

  Jonas frowned. “What then?”

  “Maybe she drove him off.”

  “Gee?” Jonas asked. “You’re kiddin’ me.”

  Hollis shook his head. “You know how it was. Gee was so bossy when Mama was sick. Everything had to be her way. I think he got tired of it.”