“Are you kidding?”
Her mother shook her head and smiled to check herself in the mirror. “Poor man. Maybe we should have him over for dinner sometime.” Sylvie turned a bright smile at Josie. “Now go and give your brother some attention.”
The sleek car withdrew to the street. Its headlights turned and left.
Josie walked the driveway. No wind stirred. An eerie stillness, after all the brisk wind sweeps, draped the evening.
Back inside the house, she had Colin help her clean the dishes, which she could easily do herself, but he had to learn some household tasks. He scraped food from plates without complaining, and while Josie did dishes he adjusted their chairs at the table. Josie saw he didn’t go near their father’s chair.
Colin took their place mats to the trash can and shook them off. With a damp sponge, he cleaned a light food stain. Such a little man, Josie decided. So responsible and willing. His grades and teacher comments revealed he was the same way at school.
“Colin,” Josie said.
“Yeah?”
“You’re doing a good job.”
He turned his head to the side like he was waiting for some sarcastic comment to implode the compliment. Receiving none, he grinned. “Thanks.”
Josie winked. Her brother’s chore was complete, but he remained in the kitchen. He replaced the condiments, set Sylvie’s floral centerpiece in place, and said, “I want to go outside.”
“It’s getting dark and you need to hook up with Fred.”
“I know, but you said it’s windy. I want to sit on the swing and feel the breeze. I won’t be out there long, Jo-seph.” He added the syllable to make her grin.
“Okay, but not long. You put off treatment yesterday.”
His dulled eyes said he knew what would happen if he tried to go another day without dialysis. Jogging off toward the bedrooms, he came through again carrying his football. He would sit on the swing and toss it up and catch it. Or maybe he would just hold it and wish he could play ball with his friends. Or go to the park with Andrew.
Josie scoured the range and buffed it with a towel to make a shine. She used the quick vac to catch stray crumbs from the floor. She gave the kitchen one final inspection so that Sylvie would not stay up the second half of the night to get the room to her taste.
Colin came in a few minutes later.
Josie was at her sewing table making final notes for her speech to the K.C.’s. “How is it out there?”
“Good. I’m gonna take a quick shower before my movie comes on.” He flicked on the TV and went off.
He was gone quite awhile. Before he returned, Josie stopped writing. She heard him coughing.
He came in still slightly damp. In short pajamas, his legs looked longer and thinner. His hair had been blown dry but sections darker than the rest hadn’t been hit. Retrieving his football, Colin rolled it up in a toss to himself. “You want to throw a few?” he asked, not paying attention to his program, which a bulletin interrupted.
A map showed the Gulf of Mexico.
Josie pressed the remote to raise the sound.
“After stalling, Hurricane Daniel has begun moving again. He’s heading for the shoreline just east of Mobile, Alabama. Many residents of coastal cities have evacuated because although Daniel has barely attained hurricane force, it’s already causing flooding in areas well east of Mobile. The storm may have already spawned one tornado that struck this trailer park.”
The ground held only sheets of flattened material. A car looked like someone had driven it up the side of a big oak tree.
Josie willed her mind to let the meteorologist’s words filter into her consciousness. “All coastal residents are urged to stay tuned,” he said. Then he and his map went away.
“Is it coming to us?” Colin’s words made Josie surprised to notice him standing near, for her mind had begun counting backwards. She had reached three.
Swallowing, she noted her brother’s stiff body. He was clenching the football against his belly.
“No,” she said, switching channels.
The next one gave a regional update. “…is the same person who admitted to five other crimes he could not possibly have committed.” A long shot showed Maurice Exely, his sleeves hanging over both hands.
Josie flicked off the set, hoping her little brother hadn’t recognized their neighbor.
Colin’s cheeks had flattened. His eyes were unmoving.
“Hey,” Josie said, “how about a little game before you have to snuggle with Fred?” She nudged Colin’s shoulder.
He appeared to leave a trance. “Yeah.”
She slipped the ball away from him, took a few steps, and tossed it back. He caught the ball, but his mind obviously remained elsewhere. Like her, Josie reckoned he could still see all that destruction. Grabbing the ball he finally threw back, she said, “You know what I really wonder?”
Fear haunted his eyes. “No.”
“I wonder…” She forced on a grin. “If Fred could kiss, would he kiss as well as the Kissing Bandit? If he did, you might go for him.”
As she expected, her brother threw himself against her. “You,” he said.
“Ah,” she cried in feigned anguish.
“I’ll get you for that.” Colin shoved and she let herself fall to the floor. Josie started laughing, so he pushed his fingers in her armpits and wiggled.
“No, stop it,” she said with a chuckle.
“No way.” Colin’s fingers reached new tickling spaces, causing Josie to really giggle.
Until the lights blinked.
Josie and her brother stopped moving.
He backed off and scooted to the floor beside her. “What happened?”
She stared at the lights overhead. Their full glow had returned. “Nothing. See?”
Colin’s gaze remained with hers on the bright lights. Josie heard him release breaths matching her own. Making herself smile, she rose with a hand out to help him get up.
A whoosh came from beneath the closed windows. Something seemed to shove against the outer wall. A crackle echoed.
Josie swallowed. She stared at the eight-year-old who stared back at her. They moved to the front door. She unlocked it and drew it open.
The door yanked back against her.
A white plastic bag few across the front lawn, resembling a tiny ghost scouring the night. Wind gusts swept the arms of their maple trees to the west. Lights on posts dimmed. Then brightened. On the rim of their yard, the bag dropped as the wind fell off.
Colin gripped Josie’s arm. “Is it here?”
Struggling to suppress her fear, Josie tried a normal tone of assurance. “You heard what the weather guy said.” She gave Colin a smile, aware that her eyes belied what her lips told. “And he knows better than I do. It’s going in around Mobile. We’re pretty far from there.” She and Colin backed into the den. She shoved the door, locked it, and tested it to make sure it wouldn’t move.
Her brother’s gaze drifted toward the television.
She turned it off. “We don’t need that. We can talk.” She retrieved the blood pressure monitor while her thoughts ran to the coastline, where Hurricane Daniel might have switched courses. Josie wanted to know everything that was going on. But Colin looked as terrified as she felt.
“Come on, buddy, it’s time to weigh in.” She stood beside the scale. “Time for your other best friend.”
Colin held back.
Josie forced her voice even. “We put off treatment an extra day to go to the beach, and you will be one sick young man if you don’t hook up soon.”
Or maybe a dead one.
“We’ll be finishing late as it is,” she said, checking the time, “with me having to teach you how to play football and all.” She hoped he would return her smile.
He stood beside her. “Not yet, okay?”
His eyes had widened. While struggling with her own panicky feelings, she hadn’t realized how frightened he might be of such weather. But now the child didn’t move. His gaze was unblinking.
Wishing she hadn’t called attention to the bulletin, she clasped his hand. “Okay.”
His lips remained tight, his eyes fearful.
“Colin,” she said with a forced smile, “it’s okay. That was just wind.”
Her gaze shifted to where his did, toward the windows that once again started to whistle.
Together they sat on the sofa. “You smell pretty good,” Josie said, sniffing his hair, trying to pretend things were normal. “Did you use the herbal shampoo?”
He looked at her but didn’t seem to comprehend that she’d asked a question.
Turn on the TV, Josie told herself, and get rid of that noise at the window. The sound had to be frightening him the most, just as the whistles and crackles were making tension tighten her body.
She saw she had left the remote on her sewing table. Colin was pressing against her. Josie placed a protective arm around him.
His ribs pushed on her side, and he looked so small. Colin’s face turned up to hers, and she thought he tried for a smile, but his chin trembled. She felt his shivers.
“Those are only outer bands,” she said for his sake and her own. “The storm is a long way from here.” She pushed aside his bangs and grinned as they fell. Her inner tremble was getting calmer. Josie could imagine herself as a mother soothing her child.
One day she would.
If only things hadn’t changed with Andrew. He would be near, helping to allay their apprehension.
“Do you think Mom would have left if there would be a real problem?” she asked.
Colin’s eyes seemed to have sunken.
She squeezed him. “Do you?”
He swallowed.
I know your fear
she wanted to tell him.
I’m feeling it myself
.
The phone rang and she hopped up. “That’s probably Sylvie checking in.”
Josie grabbed the phone in the kitchen. “Hi,” she said, giving a smile to Colin, who’d followed.
A shrill voice sounded in Josie’s ear.
“Help!” Annie screamed. “Help. Please help me!”
Chapter 21
“Annie, what’s wrong?” Josie asked, wishing she could see the other end of the line.
“I need help.” Buzzing let her know Annie had hung up.
“What’s the matter?” Colin stood close.
Josie shoved the phone down. “Stay here. I need to go get Annie.”
The girl must be alone. Could something have happened to one of her parents? Or maybe they went into the yard and the electricity going out made Annie frightened. “The wind probably scared her,” Josie said. “I’ll be right back.” She hustled out the back door.
Grumbling came from the sky, which appeared cloaked with a halo. The air felt different. Cooler. Light rain fell but at an oblique angle.
A strange whistling came from somewhere. The swing on their patio twisted. Clattering came from the garage, and Josie knew from the sound that whatever it was had hit her car.
Trying to still the quiver in her stomach, she darted across the lawn, glancing toward the street. No vehicles moved. Tree branches swept sideways. Josie swallowed tightness in her throat and forced her feet to move on. She stepped over LauraLee Allen’s bent daylilies and crossed their driveway. The garage door was shut. The house windows were black.
A light from a post adjacent to the side door bounced, giving an unusual radiance.
The whole house looked dark.
A thought occurred to Josie. Maybe Annie hadn’t phoned from here. She could be somewhere else.
The wind blew Josie’s hair and flapped her shirt. She pushed the doorbell.
Its dong echoed inside. She rapped on the door. A dropping off of the wind made her peer back to see what happened.
Everything had stopped moving. Each branch and leaf seemed to have been let go and allowed to hang still with an absolute calm. The lamp on the nearby pole gave off the same golden brilliance as usual. Josie momentarily wondered if she had imagined the wind, but leaves and small branches lay strewn on the Allen driveway.
Glancing back at her house, she could see the lights on. Perhaps she had heard Annie wrong. The child had spoken so fast, blurting her words.
Or possibly it wasn’t Annie at all. Another girl might have dialed the wrong number.
The wind suddenly gusted, scooping twigs and greenery from the concrete and tossing them into the night. The blast pressed against Josie. Her gaze strained toward her house and its whitish rectangles. Colin was in there, probably with his nose pressed to the den window, and something was happening out here. She needed to get back to him.
She gave a big wave in case he could see her.
A large box-shaped object toppled over the grass. Rain pricked Josie’s face.
One more try for Annie and then she had to return home.
She pressed the doorbell and pounded on the door. Ready to start back, she tried the doorknob.
The door opened.
Blackness spread inside.
“Annie,” Josie whispered.
The door squeaked as she shoved it farther. Trying to adjust her eyes, she called louder. “Annie! Annie, are you in here?”
Shadows even darker than out there draped the kitchen. Mrs. Allen’s maple cabinet doors caught some and let others fall to the wayside.
“Annie,” Josie called, tiptoeing in, wondering if the child could be hurt. Her hand swept the wall for the light switch. She felt one and raised it.
The lights didn’t come on.
She tried another one. Still nothing.
Glancing back out the door, Josie saw lights still glowing from her house and the Allens’ light posts.
But the power was out in here.
If Annie was alone in the house, she would surely be frightened.
“Annie.” Josie touched chair backs to move through the kitchen. She heard the wind whistling. Something outside snapped. Just a branch, she told herself in reprimand for the tremble in her legs. You are not a child again. There will be no young body lying out on the ground.
But she had to find Annie.
She stopped and turned back for the door. Maybe Annie had phoned again from a different place. Colin would have answered. He’d know where she was, probably separated from her parents. With the weather brewing up, Annie had gotten scared. Josie knew the feeling.
Determining to phone Sylvie once she returned home, Josie retraced her steps to the kitchen door. She turned the knob to lock it as she walked out.