Hurricane Stories

Wednesday morning, it’s pouring and it’s about to get a lot worse. A hurricane is well on its way on what seems to be a direct patch to our little town. My sister arrives with her two kids and immediately falls apart crying. I make the kids breakfast and plan our journey north. It slowly becomes clear to me that she’s not in any condition to drive after such a hectic night, trying to pack and seal the house as best as she can while her husband is away for work. I put her in the car with Claire and get in the car with the kids to what is going to be a seven-hour drive with a five year old and a three year old. I’ve heard horror stories about driving with small children in the car, but nothing could prepare me for this. All they wanted to do is play. Every question, statement or action were intended to engage me or one another in some sort of play. It was hilarious. When they wanted to pretend there was a large school of fish and quite a bit of ocean in my mouth, all I had to do was keep it shut and pretend I couldn’t talk, and they completely cracked up. Playing along kept them positive and energetic, and eventually tired them out for a blessed two hour nap. Sometimes we forget how important games are, but thanks to there little guy and girl I was reminded that life is just a game, and it really helps if you play along. 

I put a movie on and tried to distract myself from the roaring wind outside. The shingles were flying off the roof and the boarded up windows were knocking against the old walls, but the house was keeping it together for the most part. My thoughts were running wild, but I was trying to tame them by mindlessly following the characters on the screen. I don’t even remember what film it was, I was just trying to focus on their conversation, as if to inject words into my mind and push the other thoughts out. The dogs helped me keep myself composed, it’s always easier to have someone to take care of, takes your mind off the possible danger. If you have to keep it together for someone else, you can’t afford to fall apart. 

The entire house is full of candles, flickering as the winds are pounding the walls and roof. The children are in their beds but I know they are wide awake, terrified about what might happen. The horses are in the house, we can’t afford to lose them to these terrible winds. The whole place smells or wet fur and animals, but as long we’re safe I can handle the smell. We’re not sure how much stronger these winds are going to get, they started this afternoon, but it didn’t take us long to realize these weren’t regular southern winds, so I got the kids and my wife and we all spent the day boarding up our little house. From what it sounds like out there, that was a very smart move. 

This one is a monster. They’re saying it’s the size of Australia, spinning above Eurasia wreaking havoc. It should be here in 72 hours, and most people in the neighborhood are long gone. Some flew to their relatives in the Martian colony, some are underground in hotels in the old tunnels and streets that were dug for WW3, but can’t afford either of those, so we’ll have to take our chances with a storm the size of a continent. Everybody have their life and jet packs on, food capsules in every pocket. When this thing comes we’ll have to run on those for a few months. Our IFFs (individual force fields) will become our homes for those months, thankfully the government was giving those away in the days before the nukes dropped nearly six decades ago. Who knew that world peace wasn’t the solution to all our problems, now we’re at war with the planet.

            I can feel it, the continents are moving again. These things form in the ocean and out of nowhere, everything around them starts spinning. Our house is grounded, but I’ve already seen a few buildings down the street fall over with the spinning started. It’ll only get faster and faster, I can still remember how bad it got a few months ago, I was nearly blind for a few days after the spinning stopped. I couldn’t walk or stand or speak, and the noises in my head wouldn’t stop. I hope these pills work better than the old ones, because just the roaring sound of the tectonic slates crashing underneath the ground is enough to bring back those terrible memories from the last super-storm.

            It’s funny to see how kids deal with things. We adults try to ration and seek a course of action, but they’re just along for the ride, turning everything into a game. The food capsules are apparently shape-shifting magic beans that will transform us into different animals and creatures, and our IFFs are soap bubbles stolen from giants. I wish I had an imagination so powerful that it would overtake my fears of the monster-storm that will be here in a few days. My sister thought she could get away from it, but tickets to Mars went fast and the shuttles will stop this afternoon. Now it’s just a matter of time before we’re hit. We will probably lose each other in the surges, but the satellites are will get us back together. The only thing I’m worried about is the house, children need a safe space, and once this thing hits there won’t be safe spaces for months. Once it dissipates I’ll send them to Mars to stay with my aunt, my sister and her kids, she won’t be able to handle another month without a house, it’ll be for the best.