Forever My Hero, page 26
She could see how high up the water had gotten, since the waterline was visible because of the debris. But she couldn’t see any sign of water getting high enough to come into the house.
“So far, so good,” she said, and then Dan turned the corner and she saw the roof of her house. “The roof is still on the front of the house. The garage is still standing.”
He pulled up in the drive and parked behind her car. “Your car is fine,” he said. “The attached garage held up, and your windows are still boarded up. Let’s go inside and see if you have any leaks.”
Alice unbuckled her seat belt, and Dan helped her down. “Got your key?” he asked.
She unlocked the security alarm, then Dan unlocked the door and stepped aside for her to enter. Even as she was walking in, she could feel the balance. Nothing had been disturbed.
“Everything is okay in here,” she said, and then went from room to room, checking for signs of a leaking roof or broken windows. She walked through it twice, just to make sure she hadn’t missed anything, and then sat down in the living room with a sigh of relief. “There is a crack in the window in the utility room, but it’s still boarded up. Other than that, all is well.”
“It won’t take much to replace the glass,” Dan said. “I can do it easily.” Then there was a knock at her door, and Julia, her neighbor from across the street, peeked in.
“I saw you walk in. I just wanted to check on you and the kids. I knew you weren’t home, but I was worried.”
“That is so sweet of you,” Alice said. “We have been Mr. Amos’s guests throughout the storm. He also sheltered his elderly neighbor from across the street. Julia, do you know Dan Amos?”
“Only by reputation. One of my aunts rents one of the properties you manage. I’m Julia Youngman. Nice to meet you.”
“Ms. Youngman, it’s my pleasure,” Dan said.
Alice stood up. “We were just about to leave. I told the kids we wouldn’t be gone long, so thank you for thinking of us.”
“Of course,” Julia said. She gave Dan one last lingering smile, and then she was gone.
Alice grinned. “You made a conquest.”
“It’s the hat,” he said, and then stole a quick kiss before they left.
Once they were back in the truck, Dan headed toward Main, curious what might have happened to it. There was still water in the streets, but only a few inches.
“Look at all the flood debris,” Alice said, then gasped. “Oh no! The Piggly Wiggly sign is gone. And the sign at Granny’s is gone, too. Part of the roof at the travel agency has been damaged. Looks like it was hit by some kind of flying debris.”
“None of that is permanent, and so far, we haven’t heard of any fatalities. That’s the miracle.”
“You’re right,” Alice said.
“Let’s check Bloomer’s Hardware,” Dan suggested, and drove a little farther up Main. “Looks okay, unless Fred had roof damage, too.”
“Once we get power back up, we’re likely to be very busy for a few months as people start fixing or rebuilding what was destroyed,” Alice said.
“It all looks pretty sad right now, but it will get fixed. Nothing is open, so are you ready to go home?”
She nodded, thinking how easily she’d thought of the big house when he said home, then realized it wasn’t the house, it was Dan who made it home.
* * *
Albert watched his daddy’s face as they drove out of Hinesville and saw something he never thought he’d see. His daddy was a broken man. Witnessing his son’s death had hurt him to the core.
Big Tom cleared his throat. “What if they never find Junior? What if—”
“Daddy! Don’t!” Albert said. “Junior is with the Lord now, and with Mama. He’s not suffering anymore. He’s home. We’re the ones who are sad. We’re the ones who will have to figure out how to make the rest of our lives matter without him in them.”
“But—”
“No buts, Daddy! Sailors are buried at sea, so losing his body in a flood only means we won’t be digging a hole and putting him in it later. What happens to a body once someone dies doesn’t change a thing. The deceased don’t care now. Don’t you see? No matter how family chooses to put their loved ones to rest, it’s never for the ones they’ve lost. It’s always for the ones left behind. We’ll figure it out day by day.”
Big Tom sighed. “How did you get so smart?”
Albert shrugged. “That’s not being smart. That’s just knowing what I know.”
Big Tom reached across the console and gave Albert a pat on the shoulder. “Thank you for coming with me today. This would have been twice as hard if I’d come on my own.”
Albert nodded. “Staying home alone would have been worse for me, too.” Then he pointed. “Look, Daddy! Look toward the west where the clouds are thinning out. It’s a rainbow!”
The sight made Big Tom’s heart a little bit lighter.
“It’s a sign, isn’t it? That’s Junior telling us he’s okay,” Albert said.
His father looked up. “I don’t know if it’s Junior, but someone is telling us that eventually it will be okay.”
* * *
Chief Pittman was on a mission to get repair crews to Blessings. He’d been able to contact utility companies to let them know there were some ongoing life-or-death situations with people who used oxygen tanks, and power companies to get them to assess Blessings and replace power poles. He knew they were only one of many small towns on a list with cities in the same shape, but Blessings was his responsibility, and he’d do anything to keep it and the people safe and well.
* * *
Moses Gatlin was standing quietly in the front room of their farmhouse. He’d been listening for some time now and was convinced that the wind wasn’t blowing as hard as it had been. He took a chance and opened the front door to look out, then breathed a quiet sigh of relief. The rain was falling, but gently, not in a blowing gale.
Thank you, Lord.
They didn’t have a battery-powered radio to verify what he thought, but he was guessing this was the hurricane in its death throes.
J. B. came up behind him and gave him a pat on the back. “Looks like we made it, Moses. There were a couple of times this past week when I wasn’t sure we would.”
Moses nodded. “I hear you. I’ll go tell Mama. This will perk her right up.”
“Something needs to,” J. B. muttered. “She’s been as cranky as an old bear.”
Moses nodded as he shut the door, then went down the hall to her room. He knocked, and when she didn’t answer, he peeked in. She was on her side facing the door, staring at the wall.
“Mama! The storm is passing! Winds are dying. It’s still raining a bit, but not bad. It’ll feel good to get out of the house. Want to come with us? We’re going to go check on the livestock and buildings.”
“Close the door and leave me be,” Beulah Gatlin said.
“Mama, what’s wrong?” Moses asked. “Are you ailing? Do you need to see a doctor?”
“Get out! Get out! Get out!” Beulah screamed, and grabbed a coffee cup from the side table and threw it at him.
Moses ducked and slammed the door shut just before the cup hit him in the head, then yelled at her from the hall. “What’s the matter with you?”
She threw something else at the door as an answer.
J. B. came running. “What’s happening? Was that you shouting?”
Moses shoved a shaky hand through his hair. “It was both of us. I don’t know what’s wrong with Mama, but she’s losing it.”
“Are we still going out to check on the livestock?” J. B. asked.
Moses nodded. “Someone has to keep their shit together. I guess it’s gonna be us.”
They got on their work boots and rain gear and headed out the door. They found a fence down, a door at the hen house blown off its hinges, and all of the chickens drowned. It was a depressing sight, and Moses was glad his mother had stayed in the house after all.
It took over two hours to bury the chickens and repair the doors, before they had time to go check on their goats and the roof on the hay barn. The reality of their situation was that what was left of their livestock needed tending, and their mama did not. So they kept on working.
* * *
Beulah was angry. Marty wouldn’t leave her alone. He showed up when she was asleep and stared at her without talking, and when she was awake, she could hear his voice in her head.
I thought you loved me, Mama, but when my family needed you most, you threw them away.
She’d started out trying to explain why, but it didn’t stop him. He was digging at her daily, picking off the scab on her conscience. And there was the wind that blew and blew and never stopped, and the rain that kept falling and still didn’t wash away her sins.
She had been staring at the wall, waiting for the wind to blow it down on top of her and put an end to her misery, but instead, Number Two son was telling her the wind was easing—that the hurricane was coming to an end.
Too soon! Too soon! she screamed, and then realized the scream was just in her head. And there was Marty again, sitting on the foot of her bed.
“Go away! You don’t belong here anymore.”
I thought you loved me.
“I did. You ruined everything with the meth. It’s your fault,” Beulah said, and covered her face with her hands.
If it was my fault, then why did you punish my family? Why didn’t you say something to me, instead?
“She was your wife! She should have been the one strong enough to change you. It’s her fault, too!” Beulah cried, and then sat up on the side of the bed. “Go away! Go away! You aren’t allowed to be here anymore.”
I can be anywhere I want now, Mama. You have no power here.
Beulah stood up, then laid the old rag doll she’d been holding back down on the pillow and walked out of the bedroom.
I know where you’re going, Mama. You’re going to hell.
Tears were rolling down Beulah’s face as she staggered up the hall. “Don’t talk. Stop talking.”
Coward. You are a coward, Mama. You want to die, but you want something or someone to make it happen to you. No wall is going to fall on you. No hurricane is going to blow you away. No flood is going to wash you away. You will live with this memory for the rest of your life.
Beulah moaned. “No, no, no,” she said, and then got all the way to the kitchen.
She stood for a few moments, weighing her options. There was no thought in her mind but to escape. But how? Then she looked at the propane cookstove and sighed. Yes. Yes. This would work. She reached for the controls and turned them on, one burner at a time, then went over to the table and sat, listening to the hiss of escaping gas and thinking of all the meals she’d served at this table. Watching her boys blow out the candles on their birthday cakes here. Teaching Charlie, her first grandson, how to drink from a cup. Feeding Patty her first dish of oatmeal. And watching Alice, with her young girl wiles, taking Marty away from her.
She could smell the gas now. The room was full of it. She stood up, then opened the back door and stood on the threshold looking through the storm door. She wanted her last sight of this earth to be what she loved best.
She could see Moses and J. B. down at the barn. They were far enough away not to be hurt. She took the little matchbox out of her apron pocket, took out a match, and pulled it across the striker. There was a loud and distinct sound of moving air, like a sleeping giant behind her suddenly inhaled, then the flash of flame. The walls in the house blew out into the yard, while the upstairs fell down into the pyre.
* * *
Moses was in the barn when he heard the explosion and felt the ground shake beneath his feet.
“What the heck was that?” he asked.
J. B. ran out to look, then started screaming. “Run, Moses, run. The house blew up! Mama! Oh my God, Mama!”
Moses came out of the barn in long, giant strides, trying to catch up with J. B. as he flew across the muddy ground, knowing as he ran that she was gone.
J. B. had stopped about fifty yards from the house when Moses caught up. He was out of breath and talking in shorthand. “Too hot. No closer.”
Moses stopped, then bent over and grabbed his knees to keep from falling facedown. When he could breathe without thinking he was going to pass out, he rose up and stared at the flames eating into the wood and at the smoke spiraling up into the air.
Which part of that is Mama? he wondered, and kept hearing the mad shriek in her voice as she ordered him to get out. He was never going to voice the fear, but he’d bet his last dollar that none of this was an accident.
“Oh my God, Moses! What are we going to do?” J. B. cried.
“This makes no sense. We live through a hurricane and now this?” J. B. was grasping at straws, trying to make sense of it. “Wait! What if it was the hurricane? What if it loosened the propane connection on the cookstove? What if it had been leaking gas, and when Mama went to heat up her coffee, it exploded?”
Moses shook his head. “All I know is we’re just as homeless now as Alice and the kids were when Marty set their house on fire. That’s God paying us back,” he whispered, and dropped to his knees.
“At least the truck is in the shed,” J. B. said.
“And the keys were in the house,” Moses added.
J. B. started to cry. “The house is gone, Brother. Mama is gone. What are we gonna do?”
Moses pulled himself up to his feet. “If the extra set of keys isn’t in the truck, I’m gonna hot-wire it and drive to Hinesville and tell the sheriff.”
“I’m going with you,” J. B. said.
“Of course you are. I wouldn’t leave you behind,” Moses said.
* * *
Deputy Sheriff Hunt Terrell had just come back from a call and was hanging up his raincoat and shaking the water off his hat when the clerk came to the office door.
“Moses and J. B. Gatlin are up front. They want to talk to you.”
Hunt frowned. “Why is that name familiar?”
“Their brother was Marty Conroy.”
Hunt snapped his fingers. “That’s it! He’s the one who blew up his home, himself, and everything he and his family owned the first part of this year, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then send them on back. Do we have any news on repair crews in the area?” Hunt asked.
“Not to my knowledge, sir.”
“Okay. Just checking. We’re lucky to have a generator but it’s barely enough to power lights and heat. We need communication up and running.”
“Yes, sir,” the clerk said, and left the room.
Hunt poured himself a cup of hot coffee and was stirring in sugar when the men knocked. “Come in,” Hunt said. “Take a seat. Can I offer you a cup of coffee?”
Moses looked at J. B. There was no telling when they’d have the luxury of making themselves a cup of coffee again.
“Yes, sir, we sure would appreciate it,” Moses said, then watched the deputy fill two Styrofoam cups.
“Creamer or sugar?” Hunt asked.
“Black is fine,” J. B. said.
Hunt set the coffee down in front of them, then sat down in his chair and took a quick sip of his own. “So, gentlemen, what brings you here?” he asked, then was surprised when they both teared up.
“We came to report our mama’s death,” Moses said.
Hunt grimaced. “My sympathies. I remember her. What happened?”
“We’re not sure,” Moses said. “The hurricane has been wearing on her disposition something fierce. The more the wind blew, the more she withdrew. The last couple of days she wouldn’t come out of her room except to eat. But this morning, when the wind began to die back some and the rain was just rain, J. B. and I told her we were going out to check the property, check our livestock and outbuildings to see how they all weathered. I tried to get her to go with us, but she didn’t want to, so me and J. B. went on out.”
Hunt was listening without comment but making notes. And when Moses Gatlin paused for a moment, his brother picked up the story.
“We found a door blown off the chicken house and all of the hens had drowned. Took us a good two hours to bury all the carcasses and repair the door. We had just gone into the barn to look for roof leaks when we heard a horrible explosion. The ground actually shook beneath our feet. I ran out to look and saw our house was on fire. I shouted at Moses and then took off running.”
“And I was right behind him,” Moses said as he picked up the story again. “We couldn’t get close. The fire was so hot. But we knew Mama was gone. We don’t know what happened. Only that something blew up.”
“Did you have power?” Hunt asked.
“No, sir. We haven’t had lights or water for days,” Moses said.
“But we did have an old propane cookstove,” J. B. added.
“Didn’t your brother die earlier this year from his house exploding?” Hunt asked.
Moses’s heart sank. It was too much of a coincidence for two members of a family to both die in the same way, but months apart. “Yes, sir, he did. But he was high on meth when it happened.”
Hunt tapped his pen against his desk as he looked down at his notes, and then looked up. “Did your mother do drugs?”
Moses gasped. “No, sir! She didn’t even smoke or chew or drink alcohol.”
“So what do you think caused the explosion?” Hunt asked.
“I thought maybe the hurricane damaged something. Like maybe the fitting connecting the stove to the propane coming in the house?”
“How did you light your stove? Did it have an electric timer, or—”
“No,” Moses said, then wiped his eyes and blew his nose. “I mentioned it was older. We just turned on the burner and lit a match to it.”
