“You okay, Mama?” Queenie asks.
“Yes, baby,” Old Sally says. A mama can still call her children “baby” even if her children are in their sixties. No harm in that.
They stand inside the eye of the hurricane, and for the first time in her long life, Old Sally understands what it means for time to stand still.
* * *
The wind begins to blow again. Slowly at first. Softly. And then the clouds gather again to cover the moon. With the same quickness that the eye came, the second half of the storm begins. The eye is only the halfway point. From the weather reports they heard, it is the second half of the storm that is the most destructive because the wind reverses itself. Yet, how can anything be more destructive than what Iris has delivered so far?
They quickly gather inside the lighthouse again. At that moment Old Sally remembers that humans are both a resilient and a fragile species. A young species. Governed by the laws of nature. A species that needs guidance. The others look at Old Sally as though needing something only she can deliver.
At first, she thought that building the courage fires meant getting the beacon going. But it seems that more is required of her. She hesitates, wondering what might be helpful. When nothing comes, she calls on her grandmother. Old Sally waits, but she doesn’t appear.
Not the best time for you to disappear, she says to her grandmother.
Again, no answer.
But Old Sally knows what she must do.
She closes her eyes, drawing her words from somewhere deep inside herself, where all her people reside.
“We must be strong for one another,” Old Sally says, opening her eyes again. “We each hold a spark of courage. It may not feel like enough when you are alone, but together it will be enough,” she continues. “Together all those sparks build a fire. A fire of courage.”
Outside, the wind and rain quickly surpass where the storm left off before the eye. Nobody talks about the storm surge that is destined to come. At the top of the lighthouse stairs, Old Sally’s vision returns, and her grandmother nods her approval. The courage fires have been prepared for whatever is to come.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Rose
Katie’s contractions have sped up along with the storm. What they had hoped were fake have proven themselves real. Rose doesn’t let her daughter see how frightened she is that this grandbaby is almost ready to come with no hospital, telephone, or any way to communicate with the outside world.
Rose pulls the charm from her pocket that Old Sally gave her and holds it in her left hand. She feels the roundness of the pearl, along with the gnarled root. Along with her prayers to God for protection, Rose calls on the charm to keep them from harm. She will take whatever help she can get. She opens her hand to show Old Sally what she is holding, who nods her encouragement.
Angela rubs Katie’s back to help her relax before the next labor pain. Rose regrets now her harsh judgments of Angela when they first met. It turns out that she is everything Rose would want Katie to have in a mate. Kind, respectful, and unwavering in her care for Katie.
Old Sally told them they each have a spark of courage and together they make a fire. Rose returns the small sack to her pocket, and Katie squeezes Rose’s hand, the sign that the next labor pain is coming. Like Katie’s grip, the storm outside isn’t letting up. Angela and Rose exchange a look that contains the spark. They take turns comforting and reassuring Katie. They must stay calm. Together, Rose and Angela have enough courage for the three of them.
Between pains, Katie becomes talkative, something she did as a girl whenever she was afraid and needed a distraction. Katie motions her head toward Heather, asking Rose what she intends to do.
“Not sure,” Rose says, which is the truth. Heather is the least of her worries now.
Needing her own distraction, Rose glances over at her purse across from the cot. Inside is the first faded ledger. Every hour or so she checks to make sure it is still there. She can’t imagine what is in that old book that Edward would have been looking for before the fire, and she can’t help but wonder if that is why Heather is hanging around, too. Rose doesn’t believe that she only wants to get to know who her father is. They could do that over the phone. She is apparently searching for something else. Like Edward was searching for something else other than the secrets.
Rose remembers what Heather told her earlier in the day about her mother’s job when she worked for Edward. She had been hired to research and compile the history of the Temple family for a possible book. Was Heather’s mother given access to either of the ledgers in the bank vault? Doubtful. But she might have found something out through other means. And would she have shared that something on her deathbed with her daughter?
Rose looks around at the menagerie of people and animals gathered. Talking is sporadic. It is like a makeshift Noah’s Ark. Katie and Angela are on the cot, Harpo at Katie’s feet. Max and Jack speak near the stairway. Max’s two dogs stand nearby. Queenie and Spud lean into each other while sitting on the metal stairs. Tia and Leisha and Violet rest against the wall. Old Sally and Rose are near the cot. Heather is at the door like someone whose adventure took an unexpected turn, and she no longer knows who she is in this new setting. For the first time since they met, Rose feels compassion for her. Like her mother, Heather is all alone and doesn’t know how to connect.
Rose leans back, looking at the building towering over them. She hasn’t been inside this lighthouse since she was a girl. When she takes walks on the beach, it always looks lonely sitting back from the ocean, overlooking everything. Solitary. Unapproachable. But she doubts it is lonely now.
Old Sally rocks her body while sitting in the gray desk chair. She hums something that is barely audible.
“How did you know we should all come here?” Rose asks Old Sally.
Old Sally pauses. “Do you remember the night of the fire at the mansion?” she asks.
“Yes, of course,” Rose says. “Max and I had just driven across the country.”
“That night I had a dream that Queenie was in danger, and the dream told me to get Queenie and you and Max out of that house, so I telephoned until Queenie finally answered.”
“I never knew that,” Rose says. “Or if I did, I’d forgotten.”
Many times, Rose has thought about what might have happened if Queenie hadn’t rushed into their room and told them to get out. She saved their lives. What Rose didn’t know was that Old Sally had saved all of them.
“Earlier today, I had another dream,” Old Sally begins again. “This one told me to get everyone to the lighthouse.”
“Oh my,” Rose says, wondering if she has had dreams she ignored and shouldn’t have. She guesses everybody does.
“I guess I’ve lived long enough to know that when a dream gives me explicit directions, I follow them,” Old Sally says.
“Thank goodness,” Rose says. “I might not even be here if you hadn’t listened.”
Rose remembers the dream she had recently of her mother hiding her paints. Storm or no storm, Rose is tired of being distracted from what feels necessary to her. When the storm is over, she will start to paint again. She promises herself this.
In the meantime, Rose trusts Old Sally with her life and the life of her family. She helped Rose survive her childhood. If getting them to this old lighthouse is what Old Sally’s dream told her to do, this is precisely where they should be.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Violet
The hurricane’s peaceful eye had almost lulled Violet into believing the worst was over. But what’s true is that they hold front-row seats to a drama that has only reached intermission.
Violet’s throat tightens as she sits against the wall with Tia and Leisha. She tells them not to worry. However, there appears to be plenty to worry about.
The storm crescendos. Hurricane Iris is outdoing herself. The more Violet tells herself that they are safe, the more the hurricane begs to differ. The question remains: Will th
is lighthouse protect them from a wall of water? An alarm pounds its warning into her left shoulder with such intensity it brings tears to her eyes. A fear she can’t verbalize, or it might scare the people she loves.
In the meantime, Old Sally sits calmly next to the cot as though awaiting a special guest. Violet can hear her humming and tries to discern the melody. She finally recognizes “Amazing Grace.” She begins to hum along, the tune vibrating in her throat. On the second round, Rose starts to hum, too, as do the girls. Queenie and Spud join in, as well as Jack and Max, who add a bass line to the hum. Only Heather is quiet.
In the distance, Hurricane Iris pounds the shore like a boxer poised to win the heavyweight championship of the world. Waves crest closer to the lighthouse, and the winds grow in volume yet again. Violet has heard eyewitness accounts of tornados and hurricanes where it’s said that the wind sounds like a locomotive barreling down the tracks. She can hear the train coming now.
They continue to hum as the lighthouse vibrates with each crashing wave. The storm has its own song. Nothing stands between them and the ocean, except this lighthouse. If not for this structure they would already be lost, perhaps never to be found again.
A low rumble grows in the distance, and everyone stops humming to listen. At first, it sounds like a stomach growling. A huge stomach. Violet can feel the vibration deep inside her.
Jack yells that the storm surge is coming. Everyone is to get up the stairs as fast as they can. At the bottom of the spiral steps, Max and Jack remind everyone to move quickly and stay calm, an impossible feat. One by one they climb the winding metal staircase toward the beacon of light, their shoes echoing against the metal stairs. Violet’s legs feel like she is attempting to run in pluff mud.
Jack yells for them to stay away from the glass around the beacon of the lighthouse. Queenie and Spud are first up and they stop at the top of the stairs. Tia and Leisha and Violet pack in closely behind her, followed by Old Sally, Rose, Katie, and Angela, who holds Harpo. All of them help Katie climb the stairs. Max tells them to move closer together, while Jack grabs dogs, a cat carrier, and a turtle in a terrarium and passes them up the steps. He holds out his hand to Heather, who is still sitting on the floor. The look on her face is terror, her body frozen, unable to move.
Violet cannot remember a time her heart has beat this wildly. She yells at Jack to not do anything heroic and get himself hurt. She and the girls need him. But he isn’t listening. When he takes Heather’s arm, she slaps him away with her backpack, causing the faded ledger to fall out onto the floor, several of the pages falling loose. Like a game when someone yells “Unfreeze,” Heather scrambles for the pages. Violet looks at Rose, who is searching in her purse for what is now on the floor of the lighthouse.
“Get up the stairs!” Jack yells at Heather.
The hairs prickle on Violet’s arms. The storm surge is growing. Electricity is in the air, the energy building and moving toward release.
Heather is on her hands and knees gathering up the pages.
Violet screams at Jack to come on. To leave Heather if he must. The low rumble grows louder, and Violet’s entire body involuntarily shakes. Beyond the small windows, the sea swells. Finally, Jack picks up Heather while she is leaning over to get the remaining ledger pages and carries her up the metal steps.
Through a small window near the top of the lighthouse, all Violet can see is water. The wave crests. She feels like one of the minnows she and Rose collected in her plastic beach bucket when they were Sea Gypsies. Like the minnows, they are about to be sacrificed to the sea.
“Hold onto the railing as tight as you can!” Violet yells to Tia and Leisha. The roar of the wave swallows her voice. She secures both girls between her and the metal bars and turns to see Queenie and Spud doing the same with Old Sally.
The big wave hits its apex and prepares to fall. Violet tells Tia and Leisha that she loves them with all her heart. She feels her lips move, unable to hear the words.
The giant wave crashes against the lighthouse. Windows around the beacon shatter above them. The door crashes open, swept off its hinges. For a few seconds the lighthouse seems to rock backward but then holds firm. Freezing water pours down the stairway and takes Violet’s breath away. She coughs and gasps to get it back. Old Sally said the ocean was warm for this time of year, but to her, it feels freezing cold. It pours from overhead, forming a steadily rising pool of water in the bottom of the lighthouse. The generator flickers on and off several times and mercifully stays on. Without the beacon, they would be in total darkness.
Violet holds onto her girls so tightly she can barely feel her hands. She refuses to let them be washed away into the dark, freezing water. Her teeth chatter, her body longing for sunlight and warmth. For an instant, she imagines sitting with Old Sally on the porch when Violet was a girl. A sunny, warm day stretching out in front of them.
Like someone filling a glass of water from a giant faucet, the frigid water fills the lighthouse frighteningly fast. It rises a third of the way, and then halfway up the wall. In seconds it is below Jack and Heather’s feet, who cling to the railings like everybody else. They are all stacked like sardines in a metal tin on the top half of the steps.
In the next instant, Violet loses her grip on the railing, and the force of the water pulls Tia away from her. Tia screams and is washed down to the step below. Spud grabs her and pulls her between him and Queenie. One by one they inch themselves higher up the steps to get away from the rising water. Finally, Violet and Leisha are at the top of the lighthouse stairs looking down. If they go as far as the landing they will have nothing to hold onto. The cat carrier, along with the turtle terrarium, are passed up the steps to keep them safe from the rising water. Lucy and Ethel and Harpo stay with their owners.
The papers Heather had in her purse float on the top of the water, a swirl of off-white pages. Rose grabs as many as she can and stuffs them in the pocket of her raincoat before the rest of the faded ledger floats away. Along with the pages are their suitcases, rising from under the staircase. They swirl like part of an oceanic baggage claim area. Violet gasps, seeing her suitcase begin to swirl on a conveyor belt she cannot get close enough to claim. She thinks of all the photographs she crammed into her one suitcase, the special ones she would be the most bereft at losing. But she has no time to grieve her losses now. The sea threatens to swallow them whole.
Time slows, perhaps the last seconds of her life ticking away. Thankfulness fills her like the water filling the lighthouse. She thinks of how much she loves Jack and the girls. How much she loves her makeshift family and the home they built together. How much she appreciates finally getting to open her dream tea shop. Her shop may be underwater, too. But she can’t think about that now. If she is lucky enough to survive, she will deal with whatever the aftermath brings. Grateful for the chance.
The storm surge finally slows and stops rising.
Seconds later Queenie begins to giggle. Adrenaline releasing, no doubt. Before long they all are laughing, tears in their eyes. Giddy with relief that they have survived the most dangerous part of the storm, couples kiss. Family members hug. Friends embrace and pat each other on the back. All except Heather. But then Violet notices that Old Sally isn’t laughing, either. In the next second, she realizes what Old Sally already knows. All waves—big or small—must return to the sea. The storm surge is only half over. This awareness passes to the others. The wall of water is on its way back out. If there is worse news, Violet can’t imagine it.
A new surge of water rushes in, coming from the other direction. The water swirls its wildness and starts to rise again. It makes Violet dizzy to watch it.
Along with the tons of ocean water comes tons of debris into the lighthouse. Fish, some floating dead and others frantically trying to stay alive, swirl in the water with pieces of trees and houses. Things living and dead churn together in the crucible of the lighthouse. Drowning is no longer their primary concern. They must also avoid being crushed by
debris.
The water edges its way up the walls again, surpassing the high-water mark from moments before. It leaves Jack and Heather halfway underwater.
Violet prays to the lighthouse to keep them safe. The beacon light flickers again as if wanting to offer them hope on such a dark night. It groans and clanks. The water forces them even higher, edging them toward the beacon. Broken glass litters the way and crunches underneath Violet’s shoes. No longer is there a danger of water coming in from the top, it is now on its way out. The new threat comes from below, the threat of being pulled out of the lighthouse with the receding floodwater.
From Violet’s new vantage point, the intermittent beacon illuminates a horrifying sight. The land has disappeared entirely. The ocean is everywhere. As a girl, the sea had been her playmate, but now that playmate has turned dark and has come to claim her.
From now on, Violet and her family and friends may be part of a tragic story on the island, like the family that lost their lives because they captured a mermaid. They will be the unfortunate people who fled to a lighthouse during a hurricane and didn’t survive. But Violet doesn’t want her story to end this way. She refuses to end up as fish food.
The sea lunges forward one last time. Violet isn’t sure how much time passes before the water starts to recede like water draining from a bathtub. Eventually, the wind also ceases to rage. Then, slowly, Iris begins to leave.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Queenie
The orange-and-yellow sunrise filters in through the top of the lighthouse. They have remained crouched on the steps for what feels like hours and Queenie’s sciatica is giving her fits. Wet, shaken, but alive, they wait for the water to recede. Spud holds Queenie in his arms and tells her the worst is over.
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