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High Water |
| Written by mike counselman | |
| Thursday, 21 August 2008 | |
HIGH WATER
Gabe stared out the window of the school bus, listening to the rain pound on the metal roof. It came in waves. A steady patter was the background noise, then the size and number of drops would increase until the pounding almost drowned out the noise of thirty bored kids, then it would gradually slow back to the steady rain. He tried to time the cycles, but after twenty minutes of sitting he detected no pattern. Rubbing the condensation off the inside of the window, he watched the rivulets of water course through the parking lot. The kids had splashed their way through the flooded streets to get to school, only to have the principal make them stay on the bus. He waited official permission to close school and send them home. If the glowering gray clouds were any indication, they might as well head home now. Gabe settled back in his seat, pulled his baseball cap low over his eyes and jammed his hands deep into his jacket pockets. Maybe he could snooze a little while they waited. He closed his eyes and let the noise of the bus wash over him. Though she sat three rows in front of him, Gabe could easily pick his little sister's voice out of the din. Alma was talking to one of her friends about, what else, animals. He gave a mental shake of his head. His sister could be so one track. Alma sat next to Kelly, feeling the water squish back and forth in her shoe as she rocked her foot. She'd tripped on the way to the bus stop and the puddle had come over the top of her rain boot. Now it soaked her sock as it sloshed back and forth. She half listened as Kelly laid out her plans for the future. They'd both decided to become veterinarians, but Alma doubted Kelly's seriousness, she knew how flighty third graders could be. Her own dedication was beyond question. She was going to be a country vet and live with her husband and kids in a small house on a country road. She'd take care of all the animals in the area, wild and tame. Thinking of the wild animals made her look out to the pouring rain. How many were out there wet and cold? Wasn't it about time they started this bus and took her home? She wanted to make sure Norman and Bundle, her two cats, were safe and dry. Before she could get the words out of her mouth, she felt the rumble of the bus starting. A cheer went up as they realized what that meant. Gabe woke with a start as the bus growled. He straightened his hat and glanced up at Alma who flashed him two thumbs up over the seat back. All right, he thought, no school, and then dozed off again. Alma would wake him at their stop. The bus dropped them off in a spray of rain and diesel fumes. Grabbing his sister's hand, they ran the long block to home through the driving rain. As they rounded the final corner, they both pulled up short. "Gabe, look at the creek!" she yelled. "Look how tall it is." "It's high Alma, not tall. But you're right, it's come up a ton since last night." They both stood staring at the muddy swirling waters, oblivious to the rain pounding down around them. Their street was a cul-de-sac, with the closed end about thirty yards from the creek. Normally there was a strip of star thistle visible before the creek bank gave way to a rock and wire reinforced levee. Last night they'd stood on that levee with Dad watching the normally placid creek rage within its banks. Now all but the very edge of the star thistle was completely underwater and the flood was lapping at the lawn of the house next door. The creek was well out of its banks and still rising. "Come on Alma, we gotta' get inside and let Mom know were home. She'll be worried." He fumbled the key from beneath his raincoat. Inside, Gabe dialed his Mom at work, while Alma let the two cats in out of the rain, and plopped down in front of the T.V. Gabe worked his way through the number and extension and ended up with his Mom's voice mail. "Mom, we're home, schools closed, uhh, we're both fine, but you oughta' see the creek, man, it's clear up on the neighbors lawn, uhh, call us, O.K.?" Between the O and the K. Gabe heard the line go dead. He pressed down the button several times, but no dial tone ever came back. "You told her to call us didn't you, Gaby." "Yeah, I told her to." he said truthfully. Why worry Alma, the phone would probably be working by the time Mom got her messages. Gabe checked all the door locks, and with a last look at the still rising creek, settled back in Mom's recliner with his Gameboy. Alma sprawled in front of the T.V. watching Shari Lewis and Lambchop. The rain still pounded on the roof. Sometime later, Alma turned from the T.V. "Shouldn't Mom have called back by now?" Gabe looked at his watch, over an hour had passed. "Let me check the phone." He grabbed the receiver and walked over to the sliding door, winding the long cord anxiously through his fingers. He held the useless phone to his ear and watched the rain pound on the surface of the pool. It was close to overflowing. He hung the phone back on the hook. "Phones on the fritz, Alma" "No way, Gabe, let me hear." She held the phone to her own ear. "Now what do we do?" she asked, wide-eyed. "What do you think we do? We don't answer the door, and we sit here until Mom or Dad get home. Just watch T.V., all right?". His little sister stomped away and flounced down in front of the set. Gabe went to the front window and pulled the curtain back. He had to stop and check his watch again. In the hour and fifteen minutes they'd been home the creek had totally covered the lawn next door and was curling a wave of muddy water around the corner of the house. My God, the creek is rising fast, he thought. He could see the water starting to reach the wheels of the boat and trailer, parked in the cul-de-sac. He felt Alma join him at the window sill. "Gabe, are we going to get flooded?" Gabe looked at the swirling, dark waters claiming more of the street and then down at his sisters scared face. "I don't think so." he said, drawing the curtain closed. "C'mon, let's see what's on," he said, pretending to take an interest in the kiddy show. He didn't want her to worry, but he couldn't help remembering when the neighbor had shown dad the watermarks on the garage studs. If it had flooded once it could do it again. At ten o'clock the lights went out. They sat in the dark house staring out the window as the creek continued to rise. By noon the little rock wall between their yard and the neighbors was just a riffle in the flooded front yard, and the water lapped at the front step. Gabe stared out, genuinely worried, and Alma was close to tears. They hadn't seen another person all day. With no electricity, they watched Gabe's little hand held color T.V. The station kept breaking in with special warnings about the record storm. When the batteries faded until the screen was a blur, he shut down the set. They felt the darkness close around. They sat very near each other in the dim light, feeling as scared and alone as they'd ever felt. Just sitting here is maddening Gabe thought. What could he do? He looked down at Alma staring out the window with her red-streaked eyes. He had to get her mind off the rain. He opened the front door just in time to see the water start to claim the third and final step before it came in the house. He shut the door before Alma could see. "Alma, it looks like we might get our feet wet." "You mean the waters coming in the house, Gabe?" "Not yet Alma, but it might soon, we better get what we can up off the floor." They looked around not knowing where to start. "Cinnamon!" Alma exclaimed, rushing to her bedroom to retrieve her hamster. "You start in there, Alma, and I'll get Dad's computer." Gabe went down the hall to his parent's room and started disconnecting and moving all the components to the top of the shelves, what else, what else? The guns, he thought. He reached under the edge of the bed, and pulled out the padlocked metal ammo box that held his dad's handguns. He put it securely on the shelf in the closet and closed the closet door. He could hear Alma dashing about in the other room making trips from her room to the kitchen. When he got there he found an unlikely assortment of things his sister had deemed important piled on the table. The hamster in his cage held center stage surrounded by assorted Barbies and the doll house her grandfather had made her. A pile of her clothes and shoes sat on a chair and she trooped in with another load as Gabe stood there. "Alma, what are you doing with all this junk. You're supposed to be saving good stuff." She fixed him with a haughty stare. "Gabe, this is all good stuff." She dumped her load and went back for more. Gabe shook his head and started unhooking the T.V. and VCR. At least she wasn't thinking about the rising water. Gabe thought about it when he walked across the entry and saw the water ooze out of the carpet. "Alma, better put your shoes on, it's starting to come under the door." He was getting seriously worried. For the next half hour they moved things up in the house. In the bathroom, everything from under the sink went to the top. Cleansers, makeup, and toilet paper covered the counter while the spare soap filled the sink. In the kitchen there was a spray of noodles and boxes and bread on one sideboard, while the drawers from below piled precariously on the other. Gabe and Alma stared at each other across the cluttered house. "What now, Gaby, Alma asked, splashing through the flooded house. The water was getting deep, and they could hear the current slapping the screen door in its frame. Out the front window no dry land was visible, just a shifting gray mass of water, swirling and dancing in evil joy. It punished the land with its wrath, and still the rain pounded down. "I think we might ought to think about getting someplace higher." he said, splashing through the flooded house. The water was close to knee deep on Alma, and even though they both swam like fish, he didn't feature having to tread water in his own house. "We'll have to get on the roof." "On the roof?" Alma said, not believing her ears. "That's crazy Gabe, it's pouring out there." "In case you haven't noticed, it's not exactly dry in here." He stared out past the redwood deck to the flooded back yard, the pool obliterated by two feet of muddy water. The deck was awash, and Mom's potted rose was a bundle of sticks poking out of the water. He could see "Woody," dad's homemade ladder, floating between the deck and the fence. The last vestiges of Dad's short carpentry career would provide access to the roof. Now all they needed was some way to keep dry. His prayers were answered when he saw a large square shape protruding from the garage door. The wing to Dad's home-built plane was floating out of the flooded garage. "Alma, wait here." He slid the door open and disappeared into the pounding rain before she could answer. Through the rain streaked window she watched her brother wrestle the old, water-logged, rickety ladder to the deck and hoist it to the roof. Then he waded through the waist deep water and floated the wing carefully out onto the deck. He motioned for Alma through the window. "I'm not coming out there, Gabe, she said with her head out the door, You're crazy." "No Alma, you're the crazy one," he said patiently, "look how high the waters getting." Alma looked around her. The water continued to burble and froth around and under the doors. Her pants were soaked from mid-thigh down and the water was creeping up as she watched. She glanced out the window to where her brother stood drenched in the pouring rain, motioning emphatically for her to come out. He looked funny with his hair plastered down over his face, but his expression was anything but comical. Her mind made up, she slid the door open and shouted over the rain, "I'm coming, but you gotta' give me one minute." Gabe nodded yes and continued to wrestle the unwieldy wing to the base of the ladder. Alma sloshed back to the kitchen and pulled two garbage bags from the open drawers on top of the counter. She wrapped one around the hamster, cage and all, the other one she used to wrap the cat carrying box she had on the table. The two cats sat on top of the table, watching Alma and the swirling water, nervous but still under control. She grabbed Norman first, and he slid into the box like a lump of liquid fur, but Bundle was another matter. He saw Norman go into the box and decided he wanted nothing to do with it. He leaped neatly from table to counter, to the other counter, and back to the table. Alma pursued him, floundering through the flooded kitchen. After about ten of these circles, Bundle misjudged his landing and slipped letting Alma get a grip on his tail. As gently as she could, she put him in the box with Norman. Gabe met her at the door, and she handed him the boxed and bagged cats. She carried the hamster. "Come on, Alma," he said, putting the animals on a bench and helped his sister up the ladder. Once she was on the roof he handed her one end of the airplane wing to steady while he walked it up the ladder. Together, they balanced the wing across the valley of the roof until it made a shelter big enough for the two of them and the animals to squat under. The rain kept shifting directions though and they were still getting wet. "Wait here," he said, heading for the ladder, "and hang on to that wing, I don't want to lose it to the wind." Alma took a grip, firm determination on her face. "Bring up my animals." "I will, he said wearily, I will." He made his way down, and waded into the house. He pulled three blankets off the table, and stuffed the entire roll of garbage bags under his arm. Back at the ladder, he handed Alma the animals and the bags, and one of the blankets. The other two he held in the water that was almost waist deep on the deck, and then dragged the sodden blankets to the roof with him. On the roof, he threw the blankets over each end of the wing, anchoring it gently but firmly against the wind. He spread the garbage bags across the two open sides, and tucked the ends under the blankets. Alma grinned at him as he ducked under the wing. "Good job, Gabe, it's like a cave." She spread the dry blanket over her and the cages and offered one side to her brother. He was about to snuggle under the cover when they both heard a loud crash from below. They looked at each other wide-eyed. "I better check it out," Gabe said, "besides, I'm already soaked." He ducked under the plastic curtain and went back down the ladder. The water was icy cold as he descended the last few rungs. Goose bumps formed as the water reached his nipples. Inside the house he heard more glass breaking, but could see nothing through the pouring rain. When he opened the door, his jaw dropped. The tongue of the neighbors' boat trailer was sticking through the front window. The water had lifted the boat, trailer and all, and rammed it through their front window. As he watched, the current shifted and the trailer tongue moved, taking out the remainder of the glass. The stern of the boat, weighed down by the motor, was starting to take on water. If he could cut that boat free, he and Alma could drift out of the flood and get rescued. Gabe fished his Swiss Army Knife out of his soaked jeans while he waded across the flooded room. The coffee table, floating half submerged, barked his shin before he saw it and pushed it out of the way, books and magazines floated by, their covers blurred and dim in the murky water. The most bizarre of all, was when the bathtub toys, hanging together as if tied, swirled into the room. They made a quick loop through the nearest eddy, and headed back towards the bathroom, Cookie Monster on a raft leading the way. Guess he didn't like what he saw, Gabe thought. He didn't like it much either. He could feel the power of the water when he touched the trailer tongue. It danced and sang in his hand, as each swirl tried to wrench it from his grasp. He held the tongue down against the submerged window sill and wiped wet hair out of his eyes. What was holding the boat to the trailer? He thought he could make out some kind of strap about mid-point on the boat, but he couldn't be sure through the rain. Climbing up, he felt the boat settle more firmly against the window. Scrambling for a foothold, he felt his tennis shoe catch on the winch on the front of the boat. It back pedaled half a turn under his weight, but held when he pulled himself up. From where he stood now, by stretching out and grabbing the corner of the windshield, it looked like he could reach the strap. With the knife held tightly in his frozen fingers, he reached out and starting sawing on the tough nylon. Now that he was out of the protection of the eaves, the rain washed his hair back in his face. He looked down, sawing blindly, while he watched the water rip at the leaves of the bushes under the living room window. He felt the strap start to part under his blade. Thank God for sharp knives, he thought, giving one last twist to the knife. The boat, nearly sunk to gunwales, by the weight of the trailer, sprung up like a freed cork, clouting Gabe under the chin as it rose, and tossing him dazed into the black water. The exhilaration of freeing the boat turned to pain and panic. He rolled in the rushing water, his feet scrambling for a grip on the muddy bottom as the lower branches of a tree ripped at his face and arm. Thrown so suddenly into the water, he'd had no time for a last breath. His lungs screamed for air. Just when he thought he could stand it no longer, his flailing feet found something solid under the water, and he shoved with all his might. His head and half his body exploded out of the water, and directly into the limbs of the neighbor's tree. He held on, taking great, shuddering breaths, as the sheer terror of how close he'd come to breathing water, started to fade. When he'd recovered some, he pulled himself out of the water and higher into the tree. He could see Alma watching him from the make-shift cave. "You okay, Gaby?" she yelled her voice barely audible over the wind and rain. He waved at her, not trusting his voice yet. She looked small and scared, peeking out from under the blanket. "I hear something, Gabe, she said. I think someone's yelling for help." Gabe paused and listened shaking the water out of his ears as he climbed higher in the tree. "Yeah, Alma, I hear it too," He could barely hear a thready cry for help over the rain. Stay there, Alma. I'm gonna' come get you." The boat was floating beneath him tangled in the same tree, still tethered to the trailer by the winch rope. He must have accidentally released the pulley when he clambered on board. The boat swung back and forth in the current beneath him, and he timed his jump to land in the ankle deep water that sloshed in the bottom of the boat. Now what, he thought. There was no way he was going to make headway against the current with the paddle. His attempts to pull himself hand over hand along the rope, had only succeeded in loosening the trailer from the window and a loss of another ten yards. He looked at the motor but there was no pull-rope. This boat was electric start, no key in the ignition either. There were several life-jackets floating about and he pulled one on, the wet canvas cold against him. While he was fishing around for the jacket he saw a large plastic float come up from beneath the seat. Curious, he picked it up. Hallelujah, a key dangled from the end. With shaking hands he inserted it in the ignition and turned it. The engine turned over vigorously, but refused to start. Gabe studied the dashboard and found a knob marked "choke." He pulled it as far as it would go and turned the key. The engine fired immediately with a low throbbing noise. He let it run for a few seconds until it started to stumble and miss and then eased the choke back in. It settled into a contented idle. Experimenting with one of the levers to his right, he heard the rpm rise as he moved it. Okay, that one's the throttle, so this control must put it in gear. He heard a thunk behind him and felt a vibration as the propeller started turning. He smiled and patted the side of the craft, good boat. Leaving it idling in gear, he climbed over the windshield and unclipped the rope from the bow. The boat swung around broadside to the current, but the tree limbs kept it from drifting away. Gabe nudged the throttle forward and felt the boat starting to make headway. He turned the wheel towards the house and Alma, and nudged the throttle a little more. Alma had been watching her brother struggle with the boat, but she cheered when he started her way. Good old Gabe, now they could get out of here. She gathered up her pets from beneath the wing and handed them to her brother as he pulled along side the roof. He helped her in and tossed her a life-jacket. "Put this on." She did as he said, the adult jacket wrapping her from chin to knee. While Gabe steered away from the house, she made the frightened animals as calm as she could. "It's okay now, Gabe's gonna' take us out of here." "Not until we find out who was yelling." he said, turning the wheel back into the current. He couldn't hear the cries for help over the engine, but from up in the tree it had sounded like it was coming from across the street. He let the boat drift, keeping just enough momentum for steering. It was eerie drifting through the back yards of the flooded homes, the barely turning propeller chattering loudly as it contacted some submerged object. He prayed it wouldn't hit anything hard enough to damage it. Alma sat in the back holding her pets and searching the windows of the houses. "There!" she said, pointing excitedly. Gabe followed her finger and saw a thin, pale arm waving frantically from a second story window. Easing closer, he saw two gray haired ladies waving and smiling. "How do, ladies," he said, slipping the motor into idle, and tying off to the roof. "Gabe's water taxi, at your service." "Why, Why you're just a boy." one of them said. "Yes ma'am," he said, climbing onto the roof and helping the two women into the boat. "But I'm the best you've got right now." He settled them into the back and passed out life-jackets. "Can we go somewhere dry now, Gaby." Alma asked. "I'm cold." "You bet, Alma." he said as the two ladies moved closer to the tiny girl in the huge life-jacket. "You bet." The trip out was fairly uneventful; well as uneventful as it can be driving a boat down the middle of your street. They passed their own house where the curtains swept out of the ruined front window, and dad's airplane wing perched securely on the roof, Alma's cave intact. Once they reached the creek itself, Gabe kept to the slower water to the edges, and made his way the two blocks upstream to where a bridge crossed the creek. To their delight, a news crew and a fire truck were on the bridge. He spotted his mom and dad standing huddled in the rain and waved excitedly, steering with his free hand. That was the lead story on the news that night as they sat in Grandpa's living room. They showed Gabe and Alma waving, and then the paramedics helping everyone out. Alma refused to get out of the boat, until all the animals were out; but finally they were all safe. The only glitch was when the firefighter holding the boat slipped on the muddy bank and lost his grip on the rope. The newscast ended with the faithful craft turning and drifting back out of sight in the pouring rain. The storm broke that night, and two days later they were able to return to their home. Tired from their ordeal and the media attention, the Counselman family returned to their debris and mud laden house. Insurance would cover the home repairs, and thanks to Gabe and Alma, most of their stuff was up out of the water. Some of the neighbors hadn't been so lucky. The perfect epilogue that put the capper on the whole thing, was when they reached the back yard. There, floating serenely in their pool, was the boat. So of course the camera crews had to come back and get pictures, and a crane called to get it out. Best of all to Gabe and Alma, was when the McAndrews sisters, the two ladies they had rescued, showed up at their door two weeks later. They motioned for the two children to follow them outside where something lay covered by a tarp in the front yard. With a flourish, they threw off the tarp to reveal the prettiest little rowboat the kids had ever seen. "For me, I, I, mean us?" Gabe stammered. "Come around to the back." They followed the sisters around to the stern where proudly emblazoned in bright red paint, were the words, "Gabe's Water Taxi" He was speechless, but his sister knew just what to do. She jumped in, right there on the front lawn, grabbed the oars and shouted, "Let's go, Captain. We've got people, and animals to rescue." Gabe thought he'd never stop grinning.
Mike Counselman
Copyright 2008 mike counselman |
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