by Kate Messner
Clare wished she had a flag or bedsheet to wave. Something bigger and brighter than Nana’s purple bandanna.
The house lurched. Clare braced herself to be thrown into the water, but it was only settling, still stuck between the trees. Clare hoped the trees were strong enough to hold it. She leaned over the gutter a bit to see if they were bending.
When she did, she saw a flash of bright orange. Dad’s rain jacket from the boat! It was snagged on a jagged bit of wood floating by. Clare lay down on her belly. She stretched out her arm and tried not to think about the snakes wrapped around the life jacket earlier. When the edge of a sleeve brushed her hand, she closed her fingers around it and pulled it in.
“Yes!” Clare waved the bright jacket over her head. But when she looked up, even the distant helicopters had disappeared.
“Come back!” she shouted, though she knew no one could hear her.
Clare’s eyes filled. But she took a deep breath and spread out Dad’s orange jacket on the roof. She made it as big as she could.
Ranger flopped down on the jacket, but Clare shooed him off it. “We have to make sure the helicopter people see that. When they come back, they’ll find us,” she told Ranger. “They have to come back. There are still people left behind.” She leaned into his damp fur and gave him a squeeze. “Dogs, too.”
Ranger licked Clare’s hand and tried to be a good listener. But he was thirsty. He was hungry. And the helicopters were all gone.
Clare tried to nap, but it was too hot. Yesterday’s wind had threatened to blow the whole world apart, and today she couldn’t even catch a breeze. She took out Bud, Not Buddy. It was all soggy, but she could still make out the words. She read a few chapters aloud to Ranger.
“Rules and things number eighty-three,” Clare read. “If an adult tells you not to worry, and you weren’t worried before, you better hurry up and start ’cause you’re already running late.”
Clare almost laughed. That wasn’t really advice she needed. She’d been worrying for three days. She wished Nana were there to give her a hug and remind her not to fret.
Actually, no. She didn’t want Nana anywhere near this awful, smelly water. Hopefully, Nana was safe at the Superdome with food and water and people taking care of her.
Clare wondered what time it was. The sun was finally setting, so it wasn’t so hot. Would the helicopters come back? They couldn’t just leave so many people behind, could they?
Clare slapped at a mosquito and wondered where her father was now. She’d tried not to think too much about why he hadn’t come back. But she knew her father well enough to know that he would have come unless something had gone terribly wrong.
She leaned over and stroked Ranger’s head. “We need to get off this roof, dog,” she whispered. “Then we’ll be able to find Nana and Dad. And everything will be okay.”
They hadn’t had anything to eat or drink all afternoon, so Clare untied the garbage bag, pulled out the water bottle, and held it between her knees. She unknotted the bag of bread, pulled out two pieces, and handed one to Ranger, who scarfed it up.
“I guess you were hungry, too,” Clare said. She nibbled her own bread and shared the water with Ranger.
It was strange to see the city with all the electricity out. The sky was darker than she’d ever seen it. And it was so quiet. Usually, her neighborhood was full of the sounds of people talking and drinking sweet tea on their porches, playing music and laughing and grilling meat. But tonight, the only sound was the gurgle of floodwater.
Ranger crept onto Dad’s jacket. This time, Clare let him stay. She curled up next to him, tried to ignore the mosquitoes whining in her ear, and closed her eyes.
Clare dreamed of helicopters that turned into giant insects and ropes that twisted into snakes.
She woke to Ranger licking her cheek and barking.
“What?” Clare blinked and leaned up on her elbows. The sky was a hazy pink color. It was getting warm again. She was out of water, and she couldn’t imagine spending another day on this roof. Why couldn’t the dog have let her sleep a little longer?
But Ranger kept barking. When he stopped for just a moment, Clare heard another sound.
The buzz of a helicopter. It was coming in from the river, headed right for her.
“Oh! Here!” she shouted, even though no one in the chopper could have heard her. Clare grabbed her father’s jacket, stood up, and waved it in a long arc over her head. “Over here!”
Clare squinted up at the big brown helicopter against the blue morning sky and said a silent prayer.
Please, God. Let them see.
Soon, the helicopter was overhead. Wind from its spinning rotor blasted hot air onto the roof. Clare stared up into the whirling blades.
“They see us!” she shouted to Ranger.
A side door opened, and a man in an orange suit appeared. He waved down at her, and Clare waved back. He turned away for a moment, and the next thing Clare knew, he was dangling in a harness on a cable, dropping down from the helicopter toward the roof. He wore a dark blue helmet, black gloves on his hands, and black boots. There were swimming fins hanging from his waist. Clare hoped that didn’t mean they were going back in the water. Almost anywhere sounded better than this roof, though.
Clare pulled Ranger close. She grabbed her father’s jacket, stuffed it into her garbage bag, and tied the bag closed just as the man’s boots touched down on the roof.
“Hi, I’m Sara,” the person said.
“Oh!” Clare stared. The man dangling from the cable wasn’t a man at all. “You’re a girl!”
“Yep. I’m also your rescue swimmer.” Sara unclipped the cable from her harness and waved up at the helicopter. “Let’s get you out of here, okay?”
“Yes, please,” Clare said. She watched the cable swing as someone pulled it back into the helicopter. She looked at Sara’s swim fins and then out at the mucky water. “Do we have to swim?”
“Nope,” Sara said, and pointed up toward the helicopter. Now they were lowering some sort of giant metal laundry basket down on the cable. “You’re getting a lift.”
When the basket got close enough, Sara reached out and pulled it in until it was resting on the roof between Clare and Ranger. “Now,” Sara said. “I need you to climb into the basket, sit down, and stay put. Keep your arms and legs inside so you’re safe when you get up to the helicopter. And once you get up there, follow the directions of the person inside. Okay?”
“Okay.” Clare started to climb into the basket with her bag. Then she looked back at Ranger. She couldn’t leave him behind.
Sara seemed to read her mind. “Don’t worry,” she said. “There’s room for your dog.” She held Clare’s hand to balance her as she settled in the basket. Then she lifted Ranger by his middle and plopped him in beside her.
“Ready?” Sara asked.
“Aren’t you coming?” Clare said. She hadn’t imagined dangling in the air all by herself.
“I’ll go up on my harness after you’re safe,” Sara said. “All set?”
Clare’s heart thudded in her chest, but she nodded. She wrapped one arm around her garbage bag and the other around Ranger. Sara held the guide wire with one hand. She waved at the helicopter. Then the steel cable lifted Clare and Ranger from the roof.
“Remember, hands inside!” Sara shouted as the basket began to spin. “I’ll see you up there!”
Clare’s stomach lurched as the basket twirled. She squeezed her eyes closed and felt the dog’s warm body lean against her. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked out over her neighborhood.
Clare gasped. It was as if Lake Pontchar-train had swallowed up all of New Orleans. The black water was everywhere. Only the tops of trees and rooftops stuck out. Off in the distance, on the other side of the bridge, she could see some dry streets. Was that where Mr. Robinson had taken Nana?
The roar of the helicopter got louder and louder until Clare was right beneath it.
“Stay right there!” a ma
n called from the open door. When the basket was level with the door, he reached out to pull Clare and Ranger inside. Their basket slid onto the helicopter floor.
“You all right?” the man asked as he took Clare’s hand.
Clare nodded and let him help her climb out.
“Have a seat on the floor over there,” he said. “We’re going to take you to the highway. Buses will be waiting there to take everyone to the shelter.”
Ranger climbed out of the basket, too. The helicopter was packed with people and full of strong smells — gasoline and floodwater and wet wool blankets.
Clare pulled Ranger over to a spot away from the door, next to an older lady who reminded her of Nana. She watched the helicopter door until Sara climbed back inside. Then the door closed, and they started moving.
Where? Clare wasn’t sure. She couldn’t stop thinking about all the flooded neighborhoods. The crowds of people walking through rivers of muck on the streets. Where were they all going? And how would she ever find her family among them?
The helicopter soared over the flooded streets and finally hovered above a crowded highway overpass. Police cleared people away so it could land. Clare climbed out onto the steaming asphalt with her garbage bag over her shoulder. “Here, dog!” she called, and waited for Ranger to jump down beside her.
“Good boy.” Clare gave Ranger a scratch behind his ear. Then she looked around for the buses that were supposed to take them to the Superdome six miles away.
All she saw were police cars, a lonely Red Cross van, and a long line of people waiting for water. Clare brought Ranger to the end of the line.
“Do you know when the buses are coming?” she asked when she got to the front.
“Maybe this afternoon,” a woman said, and handed Clare a bottle of water.
“Thank you.” Clare tried not to guzzle it too fast. She bent down and dribbled some water into Ranger’s mouth, then took another drink. Even warm, the water was amazing. She hadn’t realized how much her throat hurt.
“Don’t worry,” the Red Cross woman said. “You’ll be safe in Baton Rouge before you know it.”
“Baton Rouge!” Clare nearly choked on the water. Baton Rouge was an hour-and-a-half drive on a good day. “I thought the buses were taking us to the Superdome!”
“Oh, no,” the woman said. “We’re evacuating the city at this point.” She turned to help someone else.
Clare’s thoughts swirled like leaves in the storm. She couldn’t go to Baton Rouge. She had to find Nana at the Superdome!
Clare looked around and tried to get her bearings. She’d been to the big stadium once for a football game with her dad and Uncle Jay. Could she find her way? She felt like a ghost walking through the crowd. No one seemed to notice her at all.
With Ranger at her side, Clare walked down the highway until she found an exit ramp. The streets weren’t as flooded here, but the whole city felt dirty and wet. People wandered with stuffed pillowcases and garbage bags like Clare’s. Some dragged suitcases. Everyone wore the same tired expression.
At least Clare didn’t need to worry about finding the Superdome. Everyone was going there. She and Ranger shuffled along with the crowd for more than two hours. Finally, she could see the Superdome’s battered roof. The storm had ripped off huge pieces and thrown them into the street.
As Clare and Ranger approached, guards blocked the road.
Some people started shouting. Clare walked carefully up to a police officer. “Please,” she said. “Can you help me? I have to get to the Superdome.”
“It’s way over capacity,” he said. “And trust me. It’s not a place you want to be right now anyway. There’s not enough food or water, and tempers are running hot. You’ll have to go to the convention center.”
“But my grandmother’s here!” Clare cried. “She’s sick. I have to find her.”
“If she’s sick, she’s already been evacuated.” The officer looked down at Clare. He lowered his voice. “Your best bet is actually in Gretna. I heard there are buses there now. Food and water, too. And once you get to Baton Rouge, you’ll be able to find your grandmother.”
“Gretna?” Clare said.
“That’s right.” The officer pointed in the direction of the Mississippi River. “Over the bridge.” Then he turned away.
Clare was so tired and hungry she couldn’t think straight. She needed to find Nana and her father. Were they in Gretna? Who could tell? But food and water and buses seemed like a good start. They’d already walked six miles. What was another two?
Clare led Ranger down the street toward the Crescent City Connection, the big bridge over the Mississippi River. Lots of other people were going the same way. With every block, the crowd got bigger.
Finally, Clare led Ranger onto the bridge on-ramp, and they melted into the crowd. Clare found herself walking beside two ladies pulling suitcases. She figured they must be from out of town. They sure had picked an awful time to visit New Orleans.
“Are you all right?” one of the women asked Clare. “Here.” The woman pulled a bottle of water and a couple of granola bars from her bag and handed them to Clare. “The hotel where we were staying had to evacuate, but they sent us off with water and snacks.”
The ladies waited while Clare had some water and gave Ranger a little, too. “Thank you,” Clare said as they started walking onto the bridge.
Clare was daydreaming about cold water and real food and a hug from her dad when, suddenly, the crowd stopped moving. Had they reached the buses already?
Clare’s heart sped up. “Come on, dog,” she said. “Let’s see what’s happening!” She weaved through the crowd to the front.
There were no buses. They’d stopped because a line of policemen stretched across the bridge. The officers were holding guns and shouting. When a few of the men in the crowd tried to go talk with them, an officer fired his gun into the air.
Ranger whined. The gunshot hurt his ears. Something about these men felt desperate. Dangerous. He pawed at Clare until she backed away.
Clare waited in the crowd with a sinking feeling in her chest. They couldn’t have come all this way only to be turned back. Why? Why would anyone stop people who needed help from getting it? It had to be a mistake.
But the angry voices got louder.
“Back away! Get off this bridge!” one of the officers shouted.
“We’re not going to have another Superdome here!” another voice boomed.
More gunshots rang out, and Clare found herself swept up in a river of people retreating. Away from the bridge. Away from safety and water and food. Her eyes filled with hot tears.
If Dad were here, he would have talked his way over that bridge. He’d have them all on a bus with water. She needed her father. He had to be back in the city by now, didn’t he?
Clare imagined herself walking the streets and calling his name. “Dad! Lamont Porter! Dad!” She tried to imagine him answering, running down the street to wrap her up in his big arms and tell her everything would be all right. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t see that happening.
“Come on, dog,” Clare struggled to keep her voice from trembling. “We’re going to the convention center.”
She hadn’t decided until she said it. But if her father was in the city, he’d look there eventually, wouldn’t he? And if he wasn’t … well … Clare tried not to think about that.
When they were almost to the convention center, a stray dog stepped out of a doorway, growling. Clare backed away, but the dog crept closer.
The hair on Ranger’s neck prickled. This German shepherd reminded him of the unfriendly dogs at the park. Usually, it was best to stay away from those dogs, but it was too late for that. The dog stepped forward and snapped at Clare’s ankle.
Ranger growled low in his throat. He lunged at the other dog, barking his biggest bark.
The dog ran off down the street. Ranger didn’t stop barking until it turned the corner.
Clare sank to he
r knees and hugged him. “Thank you, dog.” She wiped a tear from her cheek with Nana’s old bandanna and then stared down at it. Where was Nana? Had someone already taken her on a bus to Baton Rouge? Or was she here somewhere, hurting?
The dog had managed to find Nana once before after he’d sniffed at the jacket she left behind. Clare held out the bandanna. “Can you smell Nana?”
Ranger sniffed the damp, purple cloth. He smelled Clare’s tears and floodwater and helicopter fumes. But there was another scent, too. The old woman he’d found before. The one he’d waited with in the steamy attic before the boat took her away. Ranger looked up at Clare.
“Can you smell her?” Clare asked. “If she’s here, we need to find her!”
Find! Ranger thought back to his training with Luke and Dad. Sometimes, when the air was just right and there wasn’t too much wind, it was easy to find the person he was supposed to find. But when it was raining too hard or when there were lots of other smells, it was more difficult. Ranger knew today would be one of those times.
Clare pulled open the door of the convention center. A wave of heat and sour smells rushed out. It was dark inside, even in the middle of the day. But if Nana was in there, she needed help.
Clare said, “Come on, dog! Let’s find Nana,” and they stepped inside.
When Clare’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, her heart sank. Little kids were running around crying. Was anyone taking care of them? Old men and women leaned against every wall, their eyes closed. It looked as if no one had enough food or water. Everyone was waiting. For what? Buses that might never arrive?
Clare held out the bandanna to Ranger. “Come on … let’s find her. Find Nana?”
Ranger breathed in the Nana smell and set off through the crowd. There were so many people. Too many smells! Finally, he turned a hallway corner.
There!
Ranger followed the Nana scent down the hallway into a room that was even more crowded. People were sprawled on the floor. Many were old and sick. Some had gone to the bathroom in their clothes, and no one was cleaning them up.
