“I can’t believe how handsome you look!” she gushed. “Jack, look at our son!”
“Mom, please,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
“You look downright respectable,” Dad said, smiling.
“Now, you’re coming right back here so I can take pictures, right?” Mom continued.
“Yes, we’re coming right back.”
“Don’t forget Patti’s corsage in the fridge!”
“I won’t.”
Ethan was sitting on the arm of the couch, watching.
“You look like you’re going to somebody’s funeral,” he said.
I pushed him back onto the cushions as I walked past him into the kitchen. “You better watch it, Ethan. It just might be yours.”
“Luke!” my mother exclaimed, but laughed as she said it.
After getting the corsage, I headed out to the garage.
“Now, come right back so I can take pictures!” my mom reminded me from the back-porch steps.
“Maybe, maybe not,” I said, winking at my dad. I got into the Dart, which had been waxed and polished until the chrome shone like mirrors, and drove the six blocks to Patti’s house. As I pulled up into the Carmichaels’ driveway, Patti was standing in the front by a lilac bush, wearing a blush-pink gown that seemed to swirl like water when she moved. Her mother had a camera in her hand and was snapping away while her father gave posing advice. Patti had her hair swept up into a bunchy pile except for a few stray ringlets about her face, and there were tiny rhinestones peeking out of the curls on the top of her head. I wondered how they stayed there. She looked very nice, and I knew I should tell her so. But I felt awkward saying anything with her parents standing right there.
“Luke!” Patti’s mother turned to me.. “Don’t you look dashing? Oh, won’t you two make a handsome couple! Now, come on over here, and let’s get some pictures!”
I walked over in my shiny rented shoes and handed Patti the box with a wrist corsage of pink tea roses.
“Pink. Like you wanted,” I said softly.
“They’re beautiful!” she whispered back, taking the corsage out.
“I can get that.” Her dad stepped forward and took the box from her.
He backed away, and she slipped the corsage over her hand.
“You look really nice,” I managed to say.
“So do you,” she whispered.
“Okay! Turn this way and smile!” her mother said.
After ten minutes of smiling, posing, and feeling rather silly, Patti’s parents announced they were finished taking pictures and that they’d see us at the Grand March in a little while.
I helped Patti get into the car—as Mrs. Carmichael took shot after shot—and we drove back down the street. Pulling up to my house, I could see Nell had just arrived home from somewhere. She was getting out of her car. And so was someone else. And then someone else. It was Norah and Kieran. Patti saw them, too.
“Oh my gosh, Luke! It’s Norah!” she said as we pulled into my driveway.
An odd feeling of nausea, heat, and anticipation washed over me as I put the car in park. Norah was here. She was staring at the car as I shut off the engine. Nell had a suitcase in her hand and was stepping inside the house with it.
I got out of the car, almost dreading walking around to get Patti’s door. Norah was watching us. It was impossible to read her face.
“Norah!” I said from across the roof of the car, attempting to sound cool and confident as I walked around it. But Patti was already opening her own door. I almost thanked her for doing it.
“Norah! You’re here!” Patti said, running over to her as best she could in high heels. Patti wrapped her arms around her, and it seemed Norah hesitated a moment before returning the hug. As I watched them, I noted that Norah hadn’t changed much in the nine months she’d been gone. Her hair was longer, fuller. She seemed taller, too. But next to Patti, it was obvious she hadn’t actually gained an inch. It was strange.
“Luke!” Kieran ran over to me. “Are you getting married?” Kieran was looking at my tuxedo, worry and awe etched on his face.
“No! I am not getting married. I’m just going to the prom.”
“What’s a prom?” he asked, looking like he was imagining pain was somehow involved.
“It’s just dinner and a dance,” I said, watching as Patti and Norah broke away from each other.
“Why is Patti’s hair like that?” Kieran whispered, leaning in close.
“Uh…well, it’s supposed to make her look pretty and grownup.”
“Oh. Is Ethan home?”
“Yeah. Sure. Go on in.”
Kieran walked away from me, and I walked over to the girls.
“How’ve you been?” I said to Norah. I wanted to give her a hug, too. But not in a tux. Not with Patti standing there. Not while Norah was looking at me like she was right then.
“Okay,” she said, studying my face like she was memorizing it.
“How long are you and Kieran here?”
She blinked. “For good.”
“Really?” Patti said enthusiastically.
Dumbfounded, I waited for Norah to confirm it.
“Eleanor’s daughter found out she’s expecting triplets. She has two little kids already and is now supposed to be on bed rest until she delivers. Eleanor s moving to Nevada to live with them.”
“Oh!” Patti said. “Well, I’m so glad you’re coming back. We’ve missed you.”
Norah turned to me when Patti said this. “I’ve missed you guys, too.”
An awkward pause followed.
“So you guys must be going to the prom,” Norah said, her face expressionless.
“Yeah,” I said, feeling strangely like I should apologize.
“Oh, I wish you’d come home sooner! You could have gone with us!” Patti said.
“With you?”
“We’re all going together! Luke, me, Tracy, Brendan, Max, Camille… everybody.”
“Oh,” Norah said, looking at my glistening patent-leather shoes.
“You want to come to Grand March? You can see everybody!” Patti continued.
Norah seemed preoccupied. “No, thanks. I really need to help Grandma get our rooms ready. This happened kind of sudden.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Well, I guess we’ll see you later, then?” I said, not wanting to stand there another minute with Norah’s odd gaze on me.
“Yeah.”
I turned and walked back toward my house with Patti at my side. I could feel Norah’s eyes on me through the smooth-fitting black back of my jacket.
Over the next few days I slowly readjusted to the notion of Norah being back. It seemed to take longer this time, and I wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was because she’d said she was in Halcyon for good, and deep down I didn’t believe it.
She and Kieran had moved back at a very strange time—two weeks before school got out. By the time they got registered for classes there were only ten days left. I didn’t see Norah often during those ten days, and when I did, she seemed distant, like she was still in Minnesota. Or perhaps somewhere else altogether. On the last day of May, my parents threw a birthday party for me, and it wasn’t until the final hours of the party that I finally saw a bit of the old Norah. As my friends and I sat around playing movie charades at one in the morning she laughed, and it was the sound of her laughter that reminded me of earlier years.
The next day, a Sunday, my mother invited Norah and Kieran to supper, just like old times. As they were getting ready to leave afterward, Norah turned to me, and after making sure no one was watching her, she made the sign to meet me in the tree house.
At ten, I went out there. As I eased myself inside, I could see she was already there.
“Hey,” I said, crossing my legs and leaning against the wall across from her.
“Hey.”
A few seconds of silence passed between us.
“So, did you need to talk to me about something?” I asked.
“No.”
I waited.
“I just wanted to know if you still came here. If you still came to the tree house.”
“Yeah, sometimes I do.”
“Okay. I just wanted to know.”
Silence.
“Kieran doing okay?”
“He’ll be fine.”
I asked no more questions, and neither did she.
June arrived with clouds, mosquitoes, and humidity. Afternoons at Goose Pond often ended in thunderstorms that sent kids and parents running for cover. There was talk among the farmers that something bad was brewing. Some bought extra hail insurance. Some put off buying a new implement. Some began to pray.
On a particularly cloudy Wednesday afternoon, while my parents were in Cedar Rapids buying a new refrigerator, I agreed to help Ethan change the furniture around in his room. I had nothing better to do, and it looked like it was going to start pouring outside anyway.
About four-thirty, just after we’d moved Ethan’s bed from the south wall of his room to the east one, the sky turned an odd shade of brown, and the room fell into shadow. A wind had begun to tug at the leaves outside. I switched on the bedroom light.
“Looks like a bad one.” Ethan walked over to the window and looked out.
I joined him. “Yeah.” Off in the distance a thickening wall of black clouds appeared to be moving toward us. “I think I’ll go close the garage door.”
I sprinted down the stairs, amazed at how dark the living room was for four-thirty in the afternoon. Ethan was right behind me. We stepped outside. The air was breezy and sticky at the same time. The black wall of thunderclouds was inching forward. We walked quickly over to the garage door and pulled it closed. I noticed Nell’s garage door was open, too. Her car was gone, of course, as she was working her shift at the paint factory. I walked over and started to pull her garage door down. A strong gust swept up around me to challenge me. I yanked harder. The wind answered back.
“Better get inside,” I yelled to Ethan as I managed to pull the door closed. I didn’t like the look of what was coming. As the words left my mouth, the civil-defense siren five blocks away began to wail.
I knew this was no test. The high-pitched wail meant a severe thunderstorm was on its way—or worse, a tornado.
“Get inside!” I yelled again to Ethan.
Just then Norah appeared at Nell’s front door.
“What s going on?” she hollered.
I ran over to her. “Where’s Kieran?”
“I’m right here!” her brother called out from behind her.
“C’mon!” I yelled, holding the door open and motioning them out.
“What is it?” she exclaimed.
Kieran’s eyes were wide with fear. I was sure they’d heard the siren go off before during tests—hadn’t they?
“Bad storm! We need to get to the basement. Go inside our house with Ethan!”
“I need to close the windows!” Norah yelled. The wind was getting stronger. The sky turned a sick shade of green.
“No time!” I yelled. I yanked Nell’s door shut and ran with Norah and Kieran across the lawns and into our house.
Ethan was standing at the top of the basement stairs and his eyes were also wide with panic.
“Go!” I yelled to my brother.
He ran down the stairs while I fought with the front door.
“Go!” I yelled over my shoulder to Norah and Kieran.
I heard the door click, and then I, too, ran for the stairs.
“Keep going!” I yelled to Ethan, who had stopped by the couch in the middle of the room. “Go into Mom’s canning closet!”
Ethan pulled open the bi-fold doors and ran inside the unfinished part of the basement, the others behind him. The concrete floor felt cold on our bare feet. Then the single light bulb winked out, and Ethan gasped.
“It’s just the power,” I said calmly, but my heart was pounding. “Sometimes the winds snap the lines.”
“Is… is it a tornado?” Norah whispered.
“Maybe,” I replied, and Ethan whimpered behind me.
“I hate tornadoes!” said my brother, and his thirteen-year-old man-boy voice was thick was dread. “I hate ’em! I hate ’em!”
As I watched Ethan, Kieran leaned into his sister.
Outside the siren continued to moan. The tiny window above our heads revealed nothing but flashes of branches and who knows what else, and the howling wind made the house creak. Something hit the window, and everyone jumped.
Suddenly Kieran shouted.
“Tommy! I forgot Tommy! I have to go back and get Tommy!”
He ran for the doors, and Norah screamed. I reached out and grabbed him. Ethan took a step back in astonishment.
“We have to stay here, Kieran! It’s not safe to go up yet,” I yelled.
“But I forgot Tommy! I have go back and get him!” He fought to free himself from my grasp.
“No! Don’t let him go!” Norah cried.
“Kieran! We can’t leave the basement until the siren stops! Not until the siren stops!”
“Tommy! Tommmmmyyyyy!” Kieran yelled, tears coursing down his cheeks.
Help me, God! I breathed a prayer. Or maybe I yelled it.
I went for the first idea that came into my head.
“Kieran!” I yelled, holding onto the squirming boy. “Listen to me! Listen to me! Tommy came with me! He ran down the stairs with me. He’s right here.”
Kieran stopped thrashing. My brother’s face was pale in the dusky half-light. He surely must think the world was indeed crashing in all around us. Not just outside the house, but inside it, too. In that room.
“No, he’s not! I left him,” Kieran said, resuming his struggle.
“Kieran! Listen to me! I was the last one at your grandma’s house! I closed the door, remember? And I closed the door at my house, too. I was the last one in! Tommy came with me. He’s already here. He’s… he’s in the corner over there and… he’s scared, too.”
“He is?” Kieran relaxed in my arms and looked over where I was pointing.
“Yes,” I said, easing up on my grip.
Norah was staring at me, fixing me with a gaze that I couldn’t interpret. I couldn’t tell if she was mortified or relieved at what I’d just said to her brother.
Despite the shrieking outside of wind and siren, Kieran stepped away from us, walked over to the corner, and sat down.
“It’ll be okay,” he said to the wall next to him.
His sister walked over and sat down next to him. I joined her. A dazed Ethan followed.
Sitting down by me he whispered, “What is going on?”
“I’ll tell you later,” I breathed.
The four of us huddled together, and I began to whisper a three-word prayer I repeated over and over. God, protect us! God, protect us! As I prayed, I felt Norah’s hand search for mine. I let her find it.
Within five minutes the horrible howling stopped, quickly replaced by a pelting sound.
“What’s that?” Kieran said, breathless.
“Hail,” I answered, looking at the window and seeing the blurry white shapes hit the glass. Then the pelting stopped. A few moments later the siren blew the all-clear sign, and I stood up.
“Is it over?” Norah asked.
“I think so,” I said, listening for any sounds above that would indicate the house had fallen in on us. But it was quiet.
“You guys stay here,” I instructed. “I’m going to see if it’s safe to come out.”
I pulled open the doors and saw that the rest of the basement was untouched. I ascended the stairs slowly, wondering if I would see open sky where a ceiling used to be. The front window was gone, and shards of glass, as well as dirt clods and roof shingles, were sprinkled about the couch and carpet. A child’s wagon was sitting half on, half off the coffee table. I didn’t recognize whose it was.
I headed up the stairs to make sure the house still had a roof. Ethan’s bedroom window was broken, a
nd a large tree branch was resting on the sill and on the bed we’d just moved. But the rest of the house seemed intact. I ran down the stairs to get the others and then see what the rest of the town looked like.
“It’s okay to come up,” I said as I went down into the basement. Ethan appeared at the bi-fold doors, and he brushed past me. When I stepped inside the canning closet, Norah and Kieran were still huddled on the floor in the corner.
“It’s okay to come up,” I repeated, a little less confident this time.
Norah looked up at him.
“What is it?” I said.
Kieran raised his head and blinked at me. “Tommy is shrinking.”
“What?”
“Tommy is shrinking,” he repeated, looking at the spot in the corner where I had pointed.
I looked at Norah, but she said nothing.
“He’s… shrinking?” I asked, flabbergasted.
“He’s getting smaller and smaller. I can hardly hear his voice,” Kieran said gently. “I think he’s leaving.”
Norah implored me with her eyes. This is it, her eyes were saying. This is the time. I knew all along it would be you.
“Um, maybe that’s because he did the job he was supposed to do for you, and now he’s going to help some other little boy,” I said, hoping she’d been right all along.
“No, that’s not it.”
My mouth gaped open, and I fumbled nervously for more words, better words. “It’s not?” Norah was staring at me… Don’t blow it, I imagined her eyes saying.
“No. I was the scared one, and he was always the brave one. But then today I was the brave one. And he was scared. He doesn’t like being scared. So he’s going up to heaven where he won’t be scared anymore.”
“Oh… sure. Of course,” I said.
“He was a good friend,” Kieran continued.
“The best.”
“So, is he gone, then?” Norah ventured.
“He’s very small now,” Kieran said. “All I can see are his clothes… He’s gone.”
I had no idea what to do next. “You… want to put… to put the clothes in a little box or something?” I asked.
“Yeah. A box would be good.”
I rummaged around on the shelves until I found a gift box that smelled like bayberry candles.
In All Deep Places Page 20