The Hurricane (18 page)

He reached over and grabbed Anna’s hand.

It was so easy. It was like he couldn’t
not
do it. He
felt her warm and soft palm against his own, felt her small and dexterous
fingers curl around his,
accepting
. He rubbed his thumb up and down the
back of her fingers, marveling at how simple and correct the harmless act felt.
Some kind of raw power surged through him, a joy that threatened to burst out
through his chest if his heart couldn’t contain it. Then Anna tilted her head
to the side and rested it on Daniel’s shoulder, and she made the unimprovable
better
.

The world slid into the past. The future came at them
blindly. With the wind drowning out the sound of the blinker, the stops and
turns took them by surprise, causing them to stiffen and brace for what came
next. But they remained like that, leaning on one another, hands caressing
hands, fingers learning how they interlocked, and Daniel realized that if it
was happening so fast, it wasn’t because of anything apocalyptic. He realized
that Anna had been waiting just as long for him as he had been for her.

As they rode slowly through town, Daniel was glad for the
extended tour and the leisurely pace. He could’ve ridden in that Bronco
forever.

They passed a gas station with a line of vehicles all trying
to get to a single pump. The rattle of a portable generator and the sight of a
man in coveralls working the nozzle gave them a bit of hope that civilization
could reopen for business, albeit slowly and at a trickle.

Two police cars sat outside the Save-Mart, their blue lights
flashing in circles. There was yellow tape over the front glass, which was
patched with full sheets of plywood.

“Storm damage or looting?” Daniel asked.

Anna let go of his hand to grab the edge of the rear window
and peer out. “I hope storm damage,” she said, but not too convincingly.

Daniel rubbed his hands together. He felt the residual heat
from her skin touching his. He glanced at Anna’s hand and had the powerful
surety that he could grab it again if he wanted. It was a new power, like
waking up one morning to discover you could fly. He could touch someone in a
loving way and have them not flinch, or think him a creep. They would even
reciprocate.

Daniel had a sudden impulse to leap out of the back of the
Bronco and run down the street, screaming at the top of his voice.

“Look at that,” Anna said. She pointed off to the other
side. Daniel could hear his father and Edward jabbering in the front. His
brother cursed.

Daniel leaned forward and peered out the back of the Bronco
and off to the side. The hulk of a dozen boats were scattered over the marsh
between the highway and the Beaufort River. Normally, the craft were bobbing in
the gentle swell or stiff current of the ever-changing tide, like ducks all
swimming in the same direction. The high tide and storm surge had pulled their
moorings free and had dragged them over dry land before receding. Now they sat
on their sides, forlorn and looking like toys, masts angling up toward the sky
in unusual angles, the tatters of an unfurled headsail hanging from a forestay
like laundry left out to dry. A pickup truck was parked out on a gravel
turnout, the driver standing by the front bumper, his hands on the sides of his
head, elbows jutting, disbelieving, to either side. Daniel wondered if he was
one of the owners, or just a stunned gawker like the rest of them.

“Over there,” Anna said.

She pointed across the river. Daniel saw the stern and prop
of a boat lost among the trees on the far bank. A small sailboat stood high and
dry, tangled in the broken limbs of an old oak. It seemed to be what Anna was
pointing at. He heard Hunter and Chen conversing back and forth; he looked to
the side to see their faces hanging out the window, eyes wide and darting.

Daniel imagined what the City Marina must look like if this
anchorage, known affectionately as “Hurricane Hole” for its relatively nice
protection, could be so decimated. He was frankly glad when Edward did a U-Turn
at the end of town and started heading back toward home, keeping him from
having to see what his dad had been through.

“Doesn’t look like much of anything’s open for business,”
Daniel said.

They passed the gas station with the single operational
pump. Edward didn’t even slow down, obviously deciding he had enough fuel to
not endure the wait.

“It’s only been two days,” Anna pointed out. Daniel felt a
stabbing fear that she was referring to their hand-holding and the rapidity of
his feelings for her. He shook such doubts away. She was talking about the
storm, the signs of progress already. She was saying that this was as bad as it
would be, and it would only get better.

Daniel nearly reached out and tested whatever was between
them by grabbing her hand, but such actions still felt like they needed a
moment
.
It could feel casual and right during a
moment
, but not just anytime.
Right then, it would have felt desperate. Physical, rather than emotional.
Daniel marveled that he knew such things. He could now see through walls as
well as fly. He wondered what other new powers he’d discover next.

The Bronco picked up speed as they left town, and Daniel and
Anna watched the road move beneath them, their chins hanging over the rear
door. Sporadic traffic roared by in the other direction. Daniel waved to some
kids in the back of a pickup, who waved back.

They turned into their neighborhood, and Hunter whistled at
the sight of the tree across the road. Edward steered them through the tight
gap once again, the smell of cut wood and sap just as strong as before.
Chainsaws were still busy at work somewhere. People were out doing what Daniel
had been doing for days: dragging limbs, waving to foreign neighbors, drinking
warm water and sweating. He felt like an explorer returning home from a
dangerous circumnavigation. He felt alive with a new knowledge of what the
outside world looked like and what other people were going through. He imagined
himself going door to door to fill people in, despite the fact that they could
just as easily drive through town and gawk for themselves.

Edward passed by his and Anna’s house and drove to the end
of the cul-de-sac. He pulled up Daniel’s driveway, past the several neat mounds
of debris.

“Holy shit,” Hunter said, when he saw the size of the tree
resting against the house.

Chen said something to him about watching his language as
the Bronco squealed to a stop. Doors popped open and the six of them staggered
out.

Daniel heard Zola squeal their mother’s name. She then ran
across the yard and threw herself into Hunter’s arms, who picked her up and
spun her around. For Daniel, the scene was as bizarre and new as the tree
denting their roof. Their mom walked briskly across the yard, tugging her
gloves off, and waited for Zola to be set down. She hugged Hunter, her eyes wet
with tears. She let go and stepped back to look at him, her hands still on his
cheeks.

“You okay?” she asked.

Hunter looked embarrassed. “I’m fine.”

Their mother nodded to Chen, then reached out and hugged
her. She glanced at Daniel over Chen’s shoulder, then her eyes went to Anna and
widened.

“Mom, this is Anna.”

He wanted to add
my girlfriend, whose hand I’ve held
,
but refrained.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, letting go of Chen and shaking
her hand.

“And this is her dad, Edward.” His mom turned and waved,
thanking him. Edward smiled back, and Daniel saw the way their father was
watching the entire scene from across the hood of the Bronco. His mother looked
at their father for a second, and his father smiled. Daniel could’ve sworn his
mom nodded his direction just a little as she squeezed Hunter’s arm.

“Carlton borrowed a canister of propane from the couple
across the street,” their mom said. “He’s grilling some chicken out back before
it spoils. Daniel, why don’t you go see if he needs any help.” She nodded to
Hunter and Chen. “You two can get freshened up. And Edward, we’ve got plenty if
the two of you will join us. It’s the least we can do to repay you for picking
Hunter up.”

“Love to,” Edward said, smiling. He rubbed his beard. “Let’s
unload and I’ll go park the car and grab some tomatoes.”

“Yum,” Hunter said, rubbing his stomach.

Daniel wanted to point out to his mom that Hunter and Chen
hadn’t been doing much of anything for the past two days and didn’t need
“freshening up.” But Anna was grabbing bags out of the back and forcing them
into his hands, his mother shooing him toward the house before he could
complain. Before he knew it, he was setting the bags down in the dining room
and watching the Bronco back out of the driveway. He could see Anna’s face in
the passenger seat as she peered out toward the house. Daniel wondered suddenly
if the connection between them would be severed as soon as she was out of
sight. What would it feel like to see her again, for the first time
post-hand-holding? What
were
they? How did millions of people go through
this and survive to giggle about it on the other side?

Daniel pulled some canned goods from one of the bags and
arranged them on the table. He could feel a powerful depression looming if Anna
decided their
moment
had been a mistake. It was easy to imagine only
Edward coming over for dinner, telling the rest of them that “Anna didn’t feel
well,” casting a glance toward Daniel as if he’d done something wrong.

Misery and joy
, Daniel decided.
This is how you
know you’re in love.

Fortunately, Anna did come over, and a shy smile in Daniel’s
direction let him know their bond could survive stretching the length of their
neighborhood. She and her dad arranged some vegetables on the chopping block in
the kitchen. Everyone else was out back, wrestling the furniture on the rear
deck into place, picking the twigs and leaves out of the webbed chairs and
fussing over the smorgasbord of food scavenged from the cabinets. Daniel could
see Carlton and his dad standing by the grill, the chicken hissing and smoking,
two small pots on the upper rack spitting with side dishes. The sight of the
two men—father and stepfather—standing together amicably seemed surreal. Daniel
accepted the plate of freshly sliced tomatoes shoved into his hands and allowed
Anna to steer him toward the sliding screen door.

“I think we’re almost ready,” his mom yelled at the upper
floor. Daniel heard his brother shout something back through the open window.
The temporary sleeping arrangements had been quickly set: Daniel was moving
into Hunter’s room with his brother, and Chen and Zola were sharing his. He had
tried not to grumble about it too much. His brother had looked ready to be
dropped back off at Chen’s house.

“Grab a plate,” his mom said. She pointed to a stack of
paper plates on the table. Daniel grabbed one for Anna and took one for
himself. Carlton dropped a piece of BBQ-rubbed chicken on each of their plates.
Daniel’s father added a scoop of warmed-up canned beans and instant mashed
potatoes. To Daniel, the sparse fare looked like Thanksgiving.

His brother and Chen joined them on the deck, followed soon
after by Zola. Edward went around forking slices of tomato onto everyone’s
plates. Daniel and Anna sat on the steps leading down to the back yard while
the others scrambled for room around the oval table. Their father put his food
together last and ate standing, his cup balanced on the deck’s wooden rail.

While they ate, Hunter and Edward took turns telling the
others about what they’d seen in town, about the gas pump, the cops at the
grocery store, the beached fleet of sailboats, all the downed power lines and
the wrecked roofs. Zola asked if there’d been any cell phone signal, and
everyone was surprised to realize that they hadn’t even checked.

Daniel dove into his food and watched Anna enjoy hers. They
exchanged smiles while they chewed, as if the two of them possessed a secret.
Chainsaws hummed in the distance; everyone laughed and ate and gossiped. Chen
seemed to take perverse delight in telling their mom that she’d warned Hunter
to park the Taurus out in the yard. News of the car, however, was still a sore
spot for their mom, who chewed her dinner and didn’t laugh with the others
while they recounted their search for the insurance card and their attempts to
work the radio.

As far as Daniel could tell, it was the most normal, bizarre
meal he’d ever had. Looking up, he could see the limbs of the great oak from
the front yard reaching over the peak of the damaged roof. One massive broken
limb draped over the back and was bushy with leaves. That he could get so
quickly used to such newness as the tree on his house made his infatuation with
Anna almost believable. Which was stranger or more sudden? As Anna stabbed the
last of his tomato off his plate and popped it into her mouth, Daniel slashed
at her fork with his as if jousting, and oddly enough wished that nothing in
his world would ever change—

“Holy shit, I’ve got a bar,” Zola said.

“Language, young lady,” their mother said, but everyone else
stopped chewing and turned to look at her. She held her phone in the air,
tilted the screen down and peered up at it. She spun in place, as if trying to
divine the pocket of most reception. Hunter and Chen both began digging their
phones out of their pockets.

“It’s gone,” Zola said. She walked down the steps between
Daniel and Anna, waving the phone in the air. “Come back,” she called after the
ephemeral bar.

“I’ve got signal,” Hunter said. He pressed some buttons.

“Who’re you calling?” Chen asked.

“You,” he said. Everyone sat breathless. He lowered the
phone and looked at it. “It says the network is full.”

“Me too,” Zola said, holding the phone to her ear.