Her Name Will Be Faith

by Christopher Nicole

  “But she should be there, shouldn’t she?”

  “I don’ t’ink so,” Melba said. “Not today. But she got CB at home. I goin’ try she dere.” She called, over and over again, until at last a sleepy voice answered. “Ooh!” Melba shouted. “Is dat you, Chris’abel?” Her voice shrieked above the crackling and opposing traffic on the air, and the banging of the hammers nearer at hand as the shutters went up.

  “Yeah,” a young female voice replied.

  “You got any flights today?”

  “Ah dunno.”

  “Di’n’ dey tell you?”

  “What?”

  “Ah said, di’n’ dey tell you if dey was comin’ back?” Melba shouted even louder.

  “Dey di’n’ say not’ing.”

  Babs flushed with exasperation. “How soon can she find out if they are coming, and when?” she asked. “Can’t she telephone Miami?”

  “She ain’t got no phone,” Melba explained.

  “But she can call from the post office, surely,” Babs said. “It can’t be far.”

  “Is a fac’ is jus’ across de street,” Melba agreed. “Hey, Chris’abel,” she bawled into the microphone. “You still dere?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How you goin’ know if dey comin’? De borse heah askin’ why you don’t phone?”

  “Dey don’ like me phonin’, lessen I got seats.”

  “Tell her she has seats,” Babs hissed. “Seven seats. For God’s sake, we’ll charter the whole plane.”

  “Hey, Chris’abel, I got a charter for you heah. You can call and tell ’em so?”

  “I could try,” Christabel volunteered. “But I ain’ know iffen dey goin’ come back today. You all ain’ heah dey got storm comin’?”

  “Oh, God,” Babs moaned. “That’s why we want to leave.”

  Melba looked at her sympathetically, then turned back to the radio. “Chris’abel, you listen to me good. You call Miami and tell dem dese folks goin’ charter. You do that.”

  “Okay. I goin’ do dat.”

  “Will she let us know?” Babs asked. “How soon?”

  “When you goin’ know about dis t’ing, Chris’abel?”

  “Ah dunno. Maybe one hour.”

  “Okay,” Babs said. “One hour. And she’ll call us right away.”

  “You do dat right away now, Chris’abel,” Melba commanded her niece.

  “Shuah t’ing. But I ain’ t’ink dey comin’ back. Not today.”

  “Just try,” Babs begged.

  “An’ you call us heah and tell us what dey say,” Melba said.

  “Yeah,” Christabel agreed.

  Babs sighed, her face long and drawn, and returned to the lounge. Mike saw her through an as yet unshuttered window. “Well?” he demanded. Babs related what she could recall of the conversation.

  “Jesus Christ!” Mike exploded. “Not coming back? Not even for a charter? What the hell is going on? They can’t just maroon us.”

  “Well, maybe we should go out to the airport anyway, just in case a plane does come in.”

  “Beggin’ yo’ pardon, ma’am, but if it was me ah woul’n’t go wastin’ my time out dere. Better spend de time preparin’.” And seeing their horrified expressions, Melba put a comforting hand on Babs’ arm. “Is all righty, all righty. We all sat out dem Betsy and David. Few trees down an’ a bit o’ floodin’, but dem hurricane’s no big deal. No cause’n for gettin’ a stroke worryin’. You all got good shutters. Jus’ be sure you got plenny food, water and candles, an’ oil for de hurricane lamps. Dat all yo’ want. Better someone go drive down de shore to Whaletown and get supplied. Tin stuff, ’cause de fridge’ll go wid de electrics.”

  “I don’t believe this,” Big Mike fumed. “We are just going to be abandoned on this fucking sandbank…”

  “But can’t we keep the generator on?” Babs’ mind was on the food in the freezer.

  “Sure t’ing, ma’am, but ev’ry once in a while it got to have oil and water, and yo’ tank don’ hold too much fuel. Den yo’ cable from de shed to de house does be overhead; wind or limb off a tree can bring it down. Anyway, dat generator ain’ too big. Yo got de fresh water pump for de toilets, de water heater, lights, freezer, fridge… it goin’ burn up before it take care o’ dem all one time.”

  Lawson and Belle joined the discussion. “She’s right,” Lawson said. “It’d be better not to turn the thing on except for emergency lighting.”

  “Maybe we should see if the power is back on and give it a rest right away,” Belle suggested.

  “Thank God we cook with gas,” Babs said. “It’s to be hoped there’s plenty in the cylinder.”

  “Dolphin Poin’, Dolphin Poin’,” said the CB.

  Melba hurried back into the kitchen and grabbed the mike. “Dat you, Chris’abel?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You got t’rough already?”

  “Naw.”

  “Den what happenin’?”

  “Is Nassau callin’ heah,” Christabel said. “Dey tellin’ me de airport is close’. All de airports in de eastern region is close’. You hear me?”

  “Yeah,” Melba said slowly. “I heah you. Dese folks gonna be too disappointed.”

  “Ah can’ help dat,” Christabel said. “I goin’ now.”

  Melba replaced the microphone, and turned to face the white people. “You heah dat?”

  “We did. Thank you, Melba, for trying.” Big Mike sighed and shook his head in exasperation. “Well, that’s that, folks. The decision’s been made for us. We sit it out.” He straightened his aching back. “Come on, you guys, let’s finish getting these shutters up so these people can go home.”

  “What about the food supplies and the candles?” Babs asked. “Someone’ll have to go down to Whaletown.”

  “Will it be safe going over Big Leap?” Dale peered at the rain lashing across the patio, and thought of the place where the island narrowed to such an extent that the sea came right up to the road.

  “Give me a list and I’ll drive down and see,” Lawson volunteered. “I shouldn’t think the seas are over the road yet; there isn’t all that much wind.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Belle declared. “If that’s okay with you, Babs.”

  “Sure. And listen, you’d better call Jo and explain the situation. Tell her there’s nothing to worry about.” She looked at Lawson, seeking reassurance for herself.

  Lawson grinned. “We’ll be snug as bugs in rugs behind these shutters.”

  “Can I come too?” Tamsin asked.

  Belle hesitated. There was no question how exciting the child would find the narrow roadway. It was always a fascinating place, with the clear, calm, aquamarine waters of the sound on the west while just yards away to the east the great dark blue swell of the Atlantic surged up to the rocks only feet below. But today the swell would be building to horrendous size, thrilling, exciting, but possibly, by the time they returned anyway, quite dangerous, even to Big Mike’s heavy old Buick. No place for youngsters.

  “No, honey,” she said. “It’ll be quite nasty and certainly too wet to get out of the car and see anything.”

  “Wouldn’t it be quicker to take the boat across to Palm Island?” Dale suggested.

  “No way,” Big Mike replied. “Cross the entrance in that swell? Anyway, as soon as we’ve put the last of these shutters up, we’re taking the boat out and tying her down.”

  “You can’t take her out until Lawson gets back with the automobile,” Dale objected.

  “I’ll borrow Josh’s before he leaves. Now, have you got that list ready, Babs?”

  Babs had been scribbling away. “I don’t know if I’ve thought of everything.”

  “Candles?”

  “Yes.”

  “Batteries?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tinned soup and beans?”

  “And some more Log Cabin Syrup for our breakfast pancakes,” Tamsin reminded her grandmother.

  “Oh, lover, I nearly forgot. W
e’ll need some more eggs, too.” Babs scribbled some more, gave Belle the list. “You hurry, and take care.”

  “We’ll hurry.” Belle kissed her mother. “Who’s going down to tell the Robsons?”

  Babs sighed. “I guess it’ll have to be me. I tell you what: add a really strong sedative to that list, if you can find one. We may need it for Meg.”

  North Eleuthera, Bahamas — 8.30 am

  The drive down the coast wasn’t easy with the windscreen smeared by the worn-out wipers as they were constantly deluged by the muddy water filling the holes in the road — Big Mike had bought the Buick third hand from the garage in Whaletown in preference to facing the expense of bringing a car across from the mainland. They bounced and weaved until a good stretch of tarmac carried them down to the neck, where they paused awhile, waiting to see if an occasional rogue wave might crash into the wide, deep gully below and swamp the road.

  “The sea hasn’t worked itself into a fuss yet,” Belle said, urgency boiling inside her; if her first reaction had been a desire to stay and sit it out, she had got caught up in the general fear of the rest of the family, and now felt as apprehensive as them of what was coming. “Come on, Lawson, let’s go.”

  In fact the seas were not yet high, although there was a considerable swell building from the south-east, but with the heavy rain clouds beginning to break up to allow patches of blue and even occasional glimpses of the sun, it was rather a beautiful day. Only right down on the sea horizon, hardly visible, there was a ridge of cloud so dark as to be almost blue black. They passed the neck without incident and arrived at Whaletown fifteen minutes later. A very strange Whaletown. Instead of the doors and windows of the brightly painted houses standing open, spilling children and animals on to the street, and women in gay dresses and bandannas sitting in the shade gossiping while they plaited straw for the baskets and hats they sold to tourists, everything was closed tight, windows boarded, chairs, tables and plant pots stowed away, and men working in the mud with ropes to tie down suspect roofs.

  The little wooden supermarket was filled with chattering women in dripping dresses, fast emptying the shelves. Belle grabbed the last packet of candles while Lawson selected batteries, then they filled two store baskets with canned food and joined the long, slow, check-out line. In the end, Belle left Lawson to cope and, head down against the still gusty wind, pants soaked by the intermittent rain, made a dash up the hill to the post office. “I want to make an international call,” she said, pushing wet strands of yellow hair from her eyes.

  “Dere ain’ no lines,” the girl said, continuing to paint her nails.

  “None at all? Who’s using them?”

  “Nobody heah,” the girl said. “Dere ain’ no lines out of Nassau. Everybody speakin’ at once.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake. How soon will there be a line?”

  “Ah dunno. Maybe dis afternoon. But I got a list heah of twelve people wantin’ to call out. You wan’ me put you down at the end?”

  Belle hesitated. But there was no way she was hanging about until this afternoon — or coming back into the village. Jo would just have to wait. “No,” she said, and went back to Lawson.

  The rain had virtually stopped as the car headed north again. Belle and Lawson watched anxiously as they came down the steep hill to the Big Leap neck, but the Atlantic was hidden from view by a high wall of rock.

  “Nothing but spray seems to be coming over,” Lawson commented, bending over the wheel. “So let’s go.”

  Belle braced herself, feet on imaginary pedals, hands on the dashboard, eyes staring to the right, waiting for the ending of the rock wall to reveal the ocean.

  The road was quite clear as the blue automobile careered down the hill through the potholes and levelled off on to the concrete surface. Then Belle saw it — a massive wall of surging green water rushing straight at them. “Foot down!” she shrieked. “Go, go, go!”

  A quick glance through the window, and Lawson responded. “Jesus!” he yelled.

  The giant wave crawled up the cliff face at the far end of the neck, higher and higher, then burst against the concrete structure of the bridge. An umbrella of water opened high over the road, hung there as though waiting for the car to reach it. They were committed; it was impossible to brake in time — they could only urge the Buick on, and pray.

  The water descended on the roof like a mountain of rock. They were engulfed, swept across the road and crushed against the concrete parapet. Belle saw and felt it all happen as though in slow motion; felt herself being thrown into Lawson’s lap, felt the car tip over, teetering on its left-hand wheels, held her breath waiting to crash, upside down, on to the rocks beneath, but miraculously the parapet held and she was flung back against the passenger door, Lawson with her, as the car righted itself. And amazingly, the engine was still running, Lawson having managed to keep his foot on the gas pedal. Now he regained the wheel and gunned her, pressed her on, sliding, swinging through the water — and then they were clear. The floor of the car was awash, the wipers were lying distorted on the hood, and the engine spluttered as they rolled up the hill on the other side, where Lawson let it coast to a halt.

  Several minutes passed before either of them spoke, or moved. They had both faced an horrific death, and death is a very private thing. Then Lawson took Belle’s face between his hands and kissed her, hard, on the mouth.

  “Oh, lover,” she said. “I thought we’d had it.”

  He grinned at her. “We are indestructible, you gorgeous critter. But I tell you what… I’m not crossing that bridge again until Faith is only a memory.”

  Dolphin Point, North Eleuthera, Bahamas — 9.30am

  Belle jumped out into the mud to open the garage door for Lawson to drive the Buick in, but found the Mako had been stored in there, so he parked hard against the back of the house. They had passed Josh, Melba and Goodson on their way home to Whaletown just after leaving Big Leap, and stopped to warn them of the possibility of a big sea crossing the road; but they decided not to alarm the family any further by telling them of their experience; they were just thankful to have survived — and if the roof of the automobile had been dented by the water crashing on to it, Big Mike would hardly notice until after the storm.

  The living room was quite a shock.

  “Beds?” Belle and Lawson exclaimed together.

  Babs laughed. “After you’d gone, Melba took charge. She said we’d not be able to get across to the bedrooms when the storm hit, so I’m afraid it’s going to be dormitory style for the next couple of nights.”

  “Surely mattresses on the floor would have been enough?” Belle remarked, gazing at the furniture, all pushed back against the walls to make room for the beds.

  “That’s what we thought, but Melba decided otherwise. Thank heavens this is a big room.”

  “Isn’t it gloomy.” Dale peered at a wedge of daylight showing through a gap in the plywood boarding. “What the hell are we going to do with ourselves all day?”

  “Play games and read stories,” Tamsin informed her uncle gleefully.

  “Oh, no, I don’t believe it.” His horror was only pretence.

  “There’s a hell of a lot of work to be done before we can play any games,” Big Mike announced. “The stuff Lawson and Belle bought has to be unloaded and put away. And if for the next forty-eight hours we are all six of us going to be living in one room, then it’s got to be kept tidy. Tamsin, you can help by putting the games on that shelf and picking up those shoes. Now, the rest of us have to stow all the patio furniture and get all the darned potted plants into the garage. The men will bring them up, and the women can put them away.” He frowned at Belle. “You okay, sweetie? You look all shook up.”

  “Just wet.”

  “Well, change. The last thing we want is someone sneezing all over the place. Say, did you get hold of Jo?”

  “No chance. There will be no lines before this afternoon at the earliest.”

  “Oh, heck,” Babs said.
“She’ll be worried out of her mind.”

  “So, she’ll just have to worry,” Big Mike said. “Now remember, you two,” he told the women, “I want the pots placed against the far wall of the garage, beyond the boat.”

  “That’s extra work,” Babs objected. “Why not leave them this side?”

  “For everyone to climb over when they go to the john? That’s the only one this side of the house. Or do you intend to trek outside through the storm to the bedroom every time you need a leak? Don’t argue, woman, just do it.”

  For a moment Babs looked ready to retort angrily, then she grinned, and feigned a punch to his stomach. “You big bully,” she said. “Okay, we’ll do it your way. But you have a job to do too: go on down that hill and see if you can talk some sense into Meggie. She’s having hysterics.”

  “Christalmighty! That’s all we need,” Mike growled, but he went off, while the others got to work, pretending it was enormous fun, laughing and teasing each other as trailing vines got caught around their feet and they tripped over the patio furniture or bumped into each other as they carted it inside — but Belle knew they were all frightened. Hurricanes were something beyond their ken; huge storms so violent that they hit the headlines, with reports of death and destruction left behind them. She and Lawson had seen the film Hurricane, on video, in which an entire island community had been reduced to an empty sandbank, and had wondered if a major hurricane could really be that bad, or if the film had just been an horrendous dramatization — like Jaws.

  Belle recalled newsreel pictures from Galveston and Houston when Alicia had struck there a few years before. There had been shots of vast seas, even bigger than she and Lawson had just seen, and flying debris which had shattered plate glass windows. Yet Melba and Josh, going home to their little wooden house which had apparently withstood all the hurricanes to hit Eleuthera for the past thirty years, had not seemed too perturbed.

  Most frightening of all was the way the sky to the south-east was changing, filling with high, tumbled, hard-edged white clouds, behind which was solid black, and the way the wind would shriek into a squall every couple of hours, hurling raindrops at the shutters, and then die away into a flat calm. It was like watching the slow, relentless approach of a vast, ruthless enemy army, and already having to fight off its skirmishers.