by Abigail Keam
As Dennis inspected each bungalow, he closed the hurricane shutters. He then shut off the water and electricity to them. Once the bungalows were secured, he chained the outdoor furniture to trees.
While Dennis was busy outside, Eva emailed and called her prospective guests warning them about the hurricane and not to come near Miami or the Keys.
The wind was now over thirty-nine mph and getting stronger by the minute. She heard the shutters rattle against the windows. Eva hoped that her investment in hurricane windows and doors actually was sound, and that they would hold back the storm as advertised.
The telephone rang.
Eva answered it.
“Eva, is that you?”
“Yes, Mary.”
“Thank the Lord. My car won’t start and I can’t get out. Are you leaving the island soon? Can you give me a lift?”
“Mary, you stay right there. I’ll be right over.” Eva hung up, and after putting on a raincoat she headed out.
Dennis caught up with her. Where’re you going?” he yelled.
“Mary Bishop’s car won’t start and I’m going to get her.”
“In this mess?”
“It shouldn’t take me too long and then we’ll head out together. I should be back in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll pack a bag for you. As soon as you come back, we hop in the Mercedes and head out.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Eva yelled back.
Dennis turned toward the office while Eva started her truck. She turned right on Highway 1. A long line of RVs, campers, rental cars, and military vehicles passed her going the other way. She hadn’t gone two miles when she was stopped by a police blockade.
“What are you doing?” shouted the motorcycle cop.
“My friend’s car won’t start. She’s five miles south.”
“Is she a resident or a tourist?”
“Resident,” shouted back Eva, wondering what that had to do with anything.
“Residents are not allowed to evacuate now. We’re trying to get all the tourists and military out first, then hospitals and nursing homes and then residents. She’ll have to wait her turn.”
“But she doesn’t have a car. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
“Can’t let you use this lane. It’s for emergencies only now. Turn around and I’ll let you cut in.”
Seeing that she had no alternative, Eva turned the truck around and cut in the traffic line much to the anger of the motorists behind her. It took her twenty-five minutes to drive a few miles to the motel.
Dennis was putting bags into the Mercedes as Eva pulled up.
“Where’s Mrs. Bishop?”
“I couldn’t get to her. It’s crazy out there.”
“Come on then. I’ve put your bag in the car.”
Eva grabbed Dennis’ arm. “I can’t leave. I could never live with myself if I abandoned her. Her house is right on the ocean. I’ve got to get to her if I can.”
“Why risk your life for someone you barely know? We need to leave. The water is rising. If we don’t go now, we’ll get stuck here.”
Eva shook her head.
Suddenly Dennis grabbed her and tried to push her into the car.
Eva jerked away and ran a few feet from Dennis. “I’m not going, Dennis.”
“Please don’t make me leave without you, I’m begging, Eva,” pleaded Dennis. “To stay is suicide.”
Eva shook her head.
Realizing that Eva wasn’t going to budge, Dennis glanced at the highway. It was raining so hard he could barely make out the cars moving at a steady pace out of the Keys. He made a decision. “I guess this is it then.”
“Go on Dennis. Get out while you can.”
Dennis gave Eva one last look and got into the Mercedes. It looked like he was crying as he drove past her and to the main road out of the Keys.
Eva watched as Dennis pulled out and headed toward Miami. She felt a tug on her heart, but it was not broken. Regardless of what would happen, Eva knew she had made the right decision.
Running to the dock, she found a john boat.
The other boats had been taken further up the west coast of Florida.
Eva got in the john boat and prayed that the motor would start. It did. She pointed it west hoping she could get to Mary. What they would do after that, she wasn’t so sure.
It was slow going in the john boat, as the waves were high, costing the boat speed. The waves slapped so hard against the boat that Eva’s teeth rattled. She had one hand on the tiller and with the other she scooped out water with a rusty can. If she reached Mary, it would be a miracle.
Drenched and exhausted, Eva finally saw the inlet that was across from Mary’s house. She beached the boat and pulled it far onto the beach thinking she might have to use it again.
Running up the slope, she came to Highway 1 where the traffic was now moving at a snail’s pace. Usually everyone would have been evacuated by now, but the storm’s sudden shift had caught the officials by surprise. Cops on motorcycles traveled up and down the emergency lane and were now letting motorists use double lanes so they could move the traffic quickly out of the Keys.
Eva ran across the highway with cars honking horns at her. She slipped and slid down a small embankment only to get up and run down the narrow street where Mary lived. Already the seawater in the street was over her toes.
Reaching Mary’s house, Eva banged on the door. “MARY! MARY!”
The door swung open against the wind and Mary pulled Eva inside. “Eva. Thank goodness you’ve come. What are we going to do?”
“Can you get your car to work?”
“It’s flooded. I can’t get it to start. What about your truck?”
“I don’t have it with me. It’s a long story, Mary,” she replied, looking at the woman’s startled face. “Let me try starting your car.”
“You mean go out there again? Oh, no. We’ll have to hunker down here and ride out the storm.”
“Look outside. The hurricane is not even officially here and look at those waves. By tonight the sea will be inside this house. We need to leave.”
Mary clasped her hands together in distress. “I wish I had never called you. Now you’re in trouble.”
“Let’s not think about that.” Eva pulled her hood over her face as she went back out. But it was no use. The car wouldn’t start for her either.
As Eva got out of the car, the water was just below her ankles. Sloshing through the water, she made her way back to the house where an anxious Mary waited at the door.
“You’re drenched.”
“That’s okay. Mary, I think we are going to have to make our way across the highway and try to take the john boat back to the Pink Flamingo.
“I don’t think I could make it. I’m too old. You go on.”
Eva grabbed her hands. “NO! We go together. Look. The water is flooding the backyard of the house. It won’t be long before the house is flooded too. The Pink Flamingo is on higher ground and my truck is there. We can still get out.”
Seeing that she could not persuade Eva to leave, Mary decided to try it. Mary put on a raincoat, boots, and a hat.
Joining hands, they both forced the front door open and stepped into the torrential rain. Holding tight onto each other, they pushed against the force of the wind as they made their way to the highway.
But much to Eva’s chagrin, there were no cars in sight. The road was deserted . . . in just the hour since Eva had crossed it previously. She had been hoping that some good Samaritan would give them a ride but it seemed that chance had come and gone.
Eva was downcast when she realized that if she had waited, she might have been able to drive her truck to Mary’s. She couldn’t think of that now.
“Wait a minute. I hear something,” said Mary, pointing at the road.
In the distance a line of cars was making a last minute dash out of the islands. Mary and Eva waved their arms signaling for the cars to stop.
The cars rushed p
ast them except for the last one. A van full of teenagers stopped. One of them rolled down a window.
“Can you take us?” asked Eva.
“We are jammed full but we can take one more.”
“You can’t take both of us?” cried Mary.
“Look for yourself,” said a young woman.
Eva glanced inside the van and indeed it was packed with people and animals . . . shivering dogs, meowing cats, guinea pigs, and birdcages. The teenagers must have been picking up every stray person and animal they found on the road.
Mary and Eva looked at each other with dismay.
“Open the door,” yelled Eva, pushing Mary forward.
“NO, EVA!” resisted Mary, but Eva gave her one strong push. Mary fell into the van where a teenage boy pulled her in.
Eva gave the boy a nod and he shut the door. Eva pounded on the side of the door and the van took off, trying to catch up with their caravan.
Giving the caravan one last look, Eva could see that there was no car in sight going north. Only those determined to stay were left. Even the police had headed out.
Eva tried to walk the highway back to the Pink Flamingo but the wind threatened to lift her off her feet. She soon became exhausted fighting the wind and she had only traveled twenty feet. Resigned that she was not going to walk back to the motel, she decided to try the john boat. She hoped it was where she had left it.
Several times, she almost lost her footing due to the high winds but finally she made it to the inlet. She ran down the slope and onto the shallow beach. Happily the john boat was still there.
Eva scooted the john boat out into the water and climbed inside. She pushed the start button on the motor.
Nothing.
She pushed the button again.
Nothing.
Then she remembered she had not put the choke in the correct position.
Eva whispered a silent prayer.
Finally she pushed the start button one last turn and the motor started up, weak at first and then gradually stronger until Eva felt confident to maneuver the boat into deeper water.
Wherever she could, Eva did not stray far from the shore, where it was only a few feet deep. Even with the strong winds and water slapping into the boat, she was slowly making headways although it was hard for Eva to negotiate. She had to keep her head down against the wind most of the time while bailing water out with the rusty tin can.
After an exhausting forty minutes of fighting the elements, Eva could see a familiar blur of pink from the water.
“I MADE IT!!!” she yelled.
Eva was heading in when a huge wave swamped the john boat, flipping it over and catching Eva underneath. She screamed as she dodged the outboard motor’s blades.
The blades on the motor dug into the sand, causing the boat to sink. Eva realized that the boat had become a coffin in the water.
Not knowing exactly where the propeller was, Eva thrashed as she tried to keep her body away from the grinding sounds.
Suddenly the blades became so embedded in the sand that they stopped turning even though the motor kept groaning in its desire to continue working.
Eva only had a very small pocket of air. She flipped on her knees and pushed against the spine of the boat trying to flip if over, but it refused.
Panicking, Eva yelled and screamed while pounding on the boat. Realizing that no one would hear her, Eva had to stop and think. She started digging the sand with her hands until she made a small depression. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself through the opening between the sand and the boat. The water was only several feet deep, coming up to her waist.
Eva tried to swim ashore but the waves kept knocking her back. Finally she tried to wade ashore. Eva would gain a few feet and then be knocked back. She knew she was losing what little strength she had left, so she had to make the next few attempts count.
Pushing forward, Eva gave it everything she had and finally got close enough to the shore that the water was only over her ankles. After that it was easy to walk out of the water and onto the sand.
But as soon as Eva walked on land, she felt a sharp pain in her right foot. Looking down, she discovered that she was bleeding profusely. There was a severe laceration across the bridge of her tennis shoe and deep into the skin. Blood was seeping out at a brisk pace.
The sight of so much blood made Eva woozy as she stumbled to the office. It was only a few feet away . . . if she could just make it.
She made it.
Eva cried with relief as she pushed open the door to the office. She fumbled for a first-aid kit under the counter and hobbled into the living area.
Carefully she pulled off her shoe and washed the wound. Eva gently bandaged her foot and then wrapped a garbage bag securing it with rubber bands around it to keep it dry.
Eva reached for a bottle of vodka sitting on the kitchen counter. “I know I’m not supposed to drink you now, but here goes. Bottoms up,” she quipped as she took a big gulp. The vodka burned as it went down.
Wiping her mouth, she confessed, “I really needed that.”
Hopping into the office, Eva checked the landline phone.
Nothing.
She tried her cell phone.
Nothing.
“Looks like I’m on my own. Now what?” uttered Eva in despair. She thought for a moment, trying to ignore the throbbing in her foot. “The truck! I have the truck.” She still had the keys in her pocket.
Eva threw the office door open and headed back out into the roaring landscape of water and wind. She hurried to the truck, hopping on one foot, and threw herself inside.
Relieved that she was out of the storm, Eva was confidant she was going to get away as the road had not flooded yet.
Fumbling, Eva finally got the key into the ignition and turned it. The truck whined.
“Come on, baby. Come on.”
The engine turned over.
Eva shouted with joy as she turned the truck around and headed toward the main road. As she was almost to the highway, a gust of wind toppled a large palm tree across the hood of the truck causing Eva to swerve and crash the truck into the Pink Flamingo sign.
Eva’s head had hit the side window, causing it to bleed. But Eva didn’t know that she was bleeding, as she was unconscious.
48
Mike was starting to panic. He had tried for hours to get hold of his mother and Eva, but to no avail.
It was not unusual for communications to falter during a hurricane. No contact didn’t mean there was necessarily something wrong. But since the death of his wife, Mike panicked if he didn’t have contact with his loved ones.
Jenny was safe in Orlando. He had just talked to her, trying to calm his daughter’s worst fears. He assured Jenny that her grandmother was probably caught in traffic on Miami’s bypass and just couldn’t get a call out.
He gave her his word that he would try to get in contact with both her grandmother and Eva. Mike didn’t want to admit to his daughter that he was worried too. His mother always called before leaving the house during an evacuation but he hadn’t heard from her. He finally tracked down Aussie Jack on his way to Orlando, but Jack couldn’t give him fresh information on the whereabouts of Mary or Eva. Mike thanked him and hung up.
He tried calling his mother again.
No response. He pondered what to do.
Mike was about to give up when his phone rang. “Hello?”
“Mike, this is Mom. I’m using someone else’s phone.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m fine, Mike.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in a van heading north. I’m with some nice young people. They are going to stop at a car rental and I am going to rent a car to get to Orlando. Mine wouldn’t start. I’m going to my sister’s.”
“I’ll meet you there.”
“Have you heard from Eva?”
“No, I assume she’s with Dennis.”
“Oh dear. She tried to help me a
nd sacrificed a place in the van so I could get out. Dennis wasn’t with her. I don’t know where she is now. We left her standing on the highway.”
There was silence from Mike.
“Mike?”
“Yes.”
“Mike, I tried to stop her but she pushed me in the van. I know her truck was working. Maybe she went back to get it. Oh, Mike, I’m so worried.”
“Mom, I’ve got to go. Keep in touch.”
“Son?” Mary heard Mike sign off.
Mike speed-dialed Dennis.
Dennis answered, thinking it might be Eva, but instead he heard Mike’s voice.
“Dennis, is Eva with you?”
“She wouldn’t come with me. She went to help your mother.”
“So you just left her there . . . alone?”
“It was her decision.”
“You’re a worthless bastard, you know that.”
Before Dennis could respond, Mike hung up.
Gathering his insulin medication into a special pouch, Mike strapped it around his waist for safekeeping. Then he ran out into the pounding rain and untied the Sea Horse from the marina dock. Drenched, his hair matted to his face, he started the boat and turned on his running lights. The marina was less than eighty miles from Key Largo and Mike knew every channel, every canal, every island around Miami and the Keys. Even with the wind working against him, Mike thought he could make Key Largo sometime that night.
The problem was getting from the marina to the Keys without having the hurricane sink the Sea Horse. If he was lucky enough to make it to the Keys, he could slip behind them and be somewhat protected from large waves sinking his boat.
Mike was determined to take that chance and headed out. He was going to find Eva.
Heading out into the storm, Mike could barely see out the windows and had to rely on his instruments.
Waves tossed the Sea Horse about like a toy boat in a bathtub as Mike gritted his teeth, but he was not going to let down the woman he loved.
The woman he loved?
Yes, Mike realized now that he had fallen in love with Eva and had fallen hard. Mike prayed to God that he would find her.
Even if it killed him.
49