Triumph Over Tragedy: an anthology for the victims of Hurricane Sandy

by R. T. Kaelin

  “Mommy! There’s strangers in our house!”

  She brought the boy close to comfort him, then pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand to wipe his nose. He knew the routine, and waited patiently while Shannon wiped it away.

  “They arrived after you went to sleep.” She stood to put on a robe. “They don’t have a dome, baby.” She tied the robe then picked up the boy.

  “Everybody has a dome,” Alvin said.

  Shannon smiled at the innocence of the three-year-old. “They don’t. That’s why they’re staying here.”

  “Why don’t they have a dome?” Sometimes Shannon wondered what it was like to know nothing other than ARIP—to never have seen Arizona, highways, cacti, a lake, or even dirt free of ice and snow.

  “I don’t know.” How would the kids get along? As far as she knew, Adjoa was the only English-speaker in the group. How would Alvin react to children his age that spoke only, what was that language? Elway? She asked her son, “Do you want to meet them?”

  The boy nodded, barely perceptible, but it was a nod nonetheless. Shannon carried the boy out to the living chamber, where Amima, the mother, was folding her blanket. The three Olympio children were still asleep.

  Adjoa looked surprisingly childlike in her slumber; nothing like the girl Shannon spoke with in the night. Deceptively peaceful. She set Alvin on the small kitchen counter. Amima had finished folding the blanket and was now placing it on the floor next to the sofa, then she walked toward the kitchen.

  “Good morning, Amima.”

  If the woman was surprised that Shannon knew her name, she certainly didn’t show it. Instead, she nodded at Shannon with a curt smile.

  “There’s no coffee,” Shannon said. “Hasn’t been any coffee for three years. I have some tea.” She reached into the cupboard and handed the box to Amima. The African woman studied the box, turning it end-over-end. Finally, she opened the box and put it to her nose. She smiled, a real smile this time, then removed one of the tea bags and handed the box back to Shannon, who took one herself before put it back in the cupboard. When it was put away, she walked to the small electric burner to heat some water. As the water boiled, Adjoa stirred from her sleep and stumbled into the kitchen.

  Alvin, still sitting on the counter watching the activity, was the first to notice her. “Joa,” he said.

  “You must be Alvin,” she said. “Good morning, Alvin. Good morning, Shannon.” She turned to her mother next, and they exchanged a few words in what had to be Ewe.

  “I have oatmeal,” Shannon said. “It’s not much, but my rations are only for two people.”

  “Please,” Adjoa said. Shannon poured the boiling water into two cups then filled the pan with water, setting it on the stove before she went digging for the oatmeal.

  Adjoa stood in the middle of the kitchen doorway watching. Finally, as the water started to boil, the girl said, “Have you decided?”

  It was time. “Yeah,” Shannon said as she turned off the burner. She poured the hot water into two bowls then dumped in the instant oatmeal. She spoke again only after she started to stir her food. “I’m not going to be able to help you.” A hurt look imprinted itself onto Adjoa’s face. “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t make sense for me to bet my dome to win yours back.” She lifted Alvin from the counter and handed him one of the bowls. “If I win,” she continued, “I gain nothing, if I lose, I lose everything. It’s a bad risk.”

  That argument didn’t seem to persuade Adjoa. “You won’t lose. I know how to beat them.”

  Poor girl. She’s been through so much that she believes her story. “I’m sorry, Adjoa. I’ve made my decision.” Shannon tried to hand the other bowl of oatmeal to her, but she refused to take it. Instead, she turned and walked away. Shannon sighed. Not letting them in would have been so much easier.

  Amima looked at Shannon with eyes that said she didn’t know what was wrong with her daughter. She followed Adjoa into the other room and a heated discussion in Ewe followed. It would be a shame to waste the oatmeal so Shannon ate the remaining bowl herself.

  The water was running low, and Shannon wanted to leave Alvin with Amima in order to fetch some ice from the quarry. Adjoa was still too angry to act as an interpreter for the two adults, so Shannon gesticulated as best she could. Amima clearly didn’t understand.

  She sighed as she pulled Alvin’s coat from the closet. Amima started barking orders to the children. Shannon really didn’t want the woman along. She didn’t want Alvin along either, but at least he would sit still. A gentle touch on the shoulder and a shake of the head was enough to communicate to Amima that she was to stay here.

  Shannon pulled Alvin’s coat from the closet, but Amima shook her head this time, then took Alvin by the arm to gently pull him toward the other children. Shannon smiled. Progress.

  Shannon put Alvin’s coat back on the plastic hanger and into the closet it went. Instead, she pulled out her own parka, complete with the zipper torn away from the fabric for the bottom three inches. She took one last look at Alvin, but he was already busy playing with Ama and Kossi. She left him playing and went to get the ice.

  She grabbed the pull sled at the side of the dome then began walking toward the ice quarry. It was still on the outskirts of town, even with the steady population increase. Although, if the Procs kept finding people to relocate, it would be in town within the next two years. If.

  A lack of wind made the arctic air almost bearable. She walked quickly after she was out of town, skirting a small mountain that separated the quarry from the domes. Halfway around, a Proc guard stopped her. Tall and ugly as a troll, the Proc fondled her parka, perhaps appraising its worth.

  The Proc ran its hand up and down the seams and along the zipper. When he discovered the small tear where the zipper had separated from the fabric, he inspected it carefully. Then, suddenly, he stood and said in horribly mangled English, “I want to bet for your garment.”

  Shannon rolled her eyes. Same troll, once a week at least. “I’m not interested in placing any bets.”

  The gargoyle took a step closer to Shannon, spreading his arms to make himself look as large as possible. “I think you should reconsider.”

  “And I think you should invest in a toothbrush,” Shannon said. “Your breath stinks.” She took a few more steps, still pulling the sled behind.

  The Proc shuffled after her. “I could have your dome destroyed.”

  Shannon smiled because she knew all the Proc tricks. “Get real.”

  “You bet me the garment.”

  Shannon stopped and turned around. “What’s in it for me?”

  “Ah, you interested. Good.” The Proc smiled as if it was pleased at itself. “I bet you extra meal to-day.”

  “What is the game?” Shannon asked.

  “Morningstar.”

  Shannon shook her head. “Too risky. Give me a game with better odds.”

  “Morningstar with wild card.”

  Shannon turned her back on the Proc and continued to the ice quarry. Upon the return trip, she discovered the same Proc, only this time, he was wearing an ill-fitting white fur coat. She just shook her head, hoping the alien would go away. Anywhere.

  When she got back to the dome, a strange smell was in the air. Shannon opened the door to discover Amima cooking bananas in a skillet and decided it was some strange African recipe. As long as the kids ate them, she didn’t mind. ARIP was not a place to waste food.

  She walked into the kitchen and stood looking over Amima’s shoulder. The African woman turned to her and said, “Kele Wele.”

  “Kele Wele,” Shannon repeated.

  “It’s not going to be as good as it is at home.” Shannon looked around to find Adjoa laying on the floor in the next room. “There are no plantains, so we had to use regular bananas, and there are no hot peppers anywhere.”

  Shannon smiled, happy that the girl seemed to have forgotten the betting idea. “I’m sure it will still taste good.”

  “Well,�
�� Adjoa said as she propped herself up on one elbow. “After we win back our dome, maybe we can get some plantains and hot peppers from Togo.”

  Naïve little girl.

  * *** *

  As the weeks passed, Shannon and the Olympio family grew closer. Amima liked the Mexican dishes that Shannon cooked whenever meat was available, and Amima cooked Kele Wele whenever bananas were available. Shannon found Kele Wele a bit too spicy for something that was meant as a dessert, but all the kids liked it, including Alvin.

  Early one morning as the children were all eating a breakfast of oatmeal, there came a knock on the door. Shannon peered out the peephole and saw a uniformed Proc accompanied by a human. This didn’t bode well. She opened the door.

  “Good morning, ma’am,” the human said. “I am Blockman Jones and this is Sergeant Ukk of the ARIP Security Force. Sgt. Ukk would like you to know that a new ordinance was passed today restricting single-family domes to single families.”

  The Blockman’s declaration didn’t make sense to Shannon. “Why? That’s a stupid ordinance.”

  Ukk grunted, followed by a one-sided conversation, the Blockman nodding as the Proc spoke. When he was finished, he turned to Shannon and said, “The other family living with you must leave your dome immediately.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question. Why?”

  “I don’t make the law.” He pointed with his thumb at the Proc standing next to them. “I only enforce it.”

  The Blockman and Proc both continued to stand in the doorway. Shannon made a slow turn and walked into the living area with her mind in a state of shock and disbelief. Where would they go? To throw these people out into the cold with no shelter was tantamount to murder. There had to be a way out. She couldn’t throw out this family she was becoming attached to. Her conscience wouldn’t allow.

  As she entered the living chamber, her eyes went directly to Adjoa. She was about to call the girl over to help translate the situation into Ewe, but she checked that when she had an idea, an idea. Someone once said, desperate times call for desperate measures. She turned her back to the living chamber and returned to the door.

  “Blockman,” she said, “Ask this Proc – Ukk was it? – if he would like to make a little wager.”

  The Blockman shifted nervously from foot to foot, looked up at the Proc, and then back at Shannon. “Procs always are willing to wager.” He smiled. “What is it you have in mind?”

  Shannon snuck a quick glance over her shoulder to Adjoa, who was creeping toward the door. “I want to win a dome for this family.”

  The Blockman laughed with more conviction this time. He motioned for the Proc to bend down, then he whispered something into the Proc’s ear. The Proc stood, then emitted an enormous belly-laugh. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, then said in thickly accented English, “Of course!”

  What had she gotten herself into?

  The Blockman whispered with the Proc for another moment, then declared, “The wager will be dome for dome. If you lose, you forfeit your dome.”

  “I understand that.”

  “Good,” the Blockman said. “Meet us in the main square in one hour. As the challenger, you have the right to name the game.”

  “Blackjack.”

  It was the voice of Adjoa, now standing at arm’s length behind Shannon, and something told her to trust the girl. “Blackjack it is,” Shannon said.

  The Blockman turned to leave, but the Proc hesitated. He looked Shannon in the eyes and said, “Make sure you arrive on time.” With that, he turned to leave, following the Blockman out the door.

  Shannon looked down at the little girl whose words may decide whether they all would live or die.

  “You must find a way to allow me to play blackjack against the Proc,” Adjoa said.

  “Impossible,” Shannon said. “The Procs won’t allow a minor to gamble.” Impossible, but crucial because she didn’t even know how to play. “You must teach me to play blackjack, Adjoa.”

  The girl was animated, waving her arms and pacing the floor. “No, I must be the one to play.”

  “They will not allow it.”

  Adjoa’s face melted before quickly brightening again as she voiced another idea. “Maybe I can walk you through the game as it’s played.”

  “I doubt it,” Shannon said. “I’ve never seen a child at any gambling event, much less helping to play the game.” She shook her head. “Out of the question. Teach me the game and I’ll manage on my own.”

  “No. You will lose,” Adjoa said with passion. “The trick to beating a Proc isn’t in the game, it’s in his head. I know how to do it, you don’t.”

  The Proc just wouldn’t be willing to wait until Adjoa turned eighteen. The game would begin at noon, and Shannon had to face him alone.

  * *** *

  As high noon approached, Shannon fed the fish, then left Alvin with Amima and walked to the main square alone. No point in looking back. In an hour, there would most likely be no place to call home. Adjoa had taught her the basics of blackjack, but she didn’t have a good feel for how to play—when to draw and when to stand. She quickened her pace.

  At the main square, a table had been set up, and a crowd of people had already gathered around, hoping for a chance to watch the destruction of the stupid human girl. She took her seat to the applause of the crowd. A Blockman acted as announcer, and began to speak through a megaphone.

  “The rules to the contest are plain. The game is simple blackjack. Each contestant starts with one hundred chips. The first contestant to gain all the chips is the winner.”

  A dealer stood at the head of the table, and Shannon sat opposite her opponent, Ukk. Each player threw in one chip, then the first cards were dealt. The Proc had face-up the queen of diamonds. Shannon was dealt the three of clubs face-down, and the ace of hearts face-up.

  The Blockman indicated Ukk as the first to play, but Ukk motioned that he wanted no cards. At the same time, Shannon felt something on her leg. She looked down to see Adjoa under the table.

  Ukk must have noticed her eyes leave the table. “What is she hiding?”

  The Blockman came around to Shannon and discovered Adjoa under the table. He grabbed the girl’s parka in the back and pulled her to her feet. “What kind of deception is this?”

  “I should be playing the Proc!” Adjoa shouted, setting the big alien to laughing so hard that he almost fell off his chair.

  “That child against me!” Ukk snorted as he inhaled. “Imagine, that child against me!”

  Shannon had an idea. “You think you can beat that child?” The crowd gasped at the very idea of a Proc gambling against a child. Even the Blockman was taken aback. “I think she can beat you.”

  “Ah! It would be like taking candy.” The Proc couldn’t stop laughing.

  “Then, since we haven’t completed the first hand, I would like to change the game.”

  “What!” The Proc didn’t like that idea.

  “The stakes remain the same, but the game is now a bet that this little girl can beat you at blackjack.”

  The Proc looked to the Blockman. “Is that legal?”

  The Blockman nodded. “Technically, it is still the woman who is gambling. The minor is just a component of the game. Yes, the bet is legal.”

  “Then I accept the new terms. Sit, child. Continue this hand.” Shannon got out of the chair and let Adjoa sit.

  The little girl looked at the Proc, who waved at the dealer. The dealer turned his attention to Adjoa.

  “Hit.” The five of clubs fell to the table. Not enough. Shannon was shaking with nerves.

  “Hit.” The two of hearts fell to the table, and she waved off the dealer. The little girl tossed two more chips into the pot, and Ukk matched it. The two players showed their cards and Ukk pushed the chips to her.

  “Lucky hand,” he said.

  Adjoa’s face lit up with a smile. “You let a little girl beat you! Ha, you’re a loser!”

  The skin around the Proc’s
eyes wrinkled in irritation. He slammed five red chips into the pot. Adjoa matched it as the dealer shuffled the deck. The cards soon began falling, and the three of diamonds landed face-up for Ukk. Shannon spotted the three of spades as it was dealt face-down, and the ace of Hearts landed face-up for Adjoa

  “A little girl beat you,” Adjoa whispered.

  The dealer looked at Adjoa and she waved him away. She took no cards. Attention turned to Ukk.

  “Hit.” The two of spades fell.

  “Hit.” The five of hearts fell. Ukk was breathing harder.

  “HIT!” The jack of clubs fell, and Ukk threw his cards into the pot. “Bust.”

  Adjoa scooped the ten chips and pulled them to her end of the table. “A little girl beat you again.”

  Shannon leaned over Adjoa’s shoulder and whispered into her ear. “Don’t egg him on too much, he might eat you.”

  She turned her head and whispered back. “No. There are too many people here.”

  Ukk was not amused. “You playing?”

  “I’m winning,” Adjoa said.

  “Gaaaah!” Ukk gathered his chips and pushed them all into the pot. Adjoa took her time counting out ninety-two chips, setting the few remaining chips carefully aside. Ukk fidgeted as Adjoa slowly counted, dragging it out as long as possible, but the Proc said nothing. Finally, she pushed her pile of chips into the pot.

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  Ukk just groaned in response. The deal came. Ukk received a face-up nine of clubs. Adjoa received a three of clubs face-up and over her shoulder, Shannon saw the girl peek at the facedown card. A seven of hearts. It made Shannon nervous, but Adjoa only smiled.

  She started whispering again. “Don’t let the little girl win. What would all the other Procs say if you lost everything to a little girl?”

  The Proc reacted with a growl. “Hit.” The eight of spades fell to the table, and Ukk threw the card in his hand to the ground. He stood, knocked his chair to the ground, and shoved the bystanders aside as he walked around the table to Shannon to put the key to the Olympio dome into her hand. His aim was poor, and the key fell to the ground. As Shannon picked it up, the Proc stormed away. After Ukk was ten paces on his way, the crowd erupted in cheers.