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Flood Warning

Page 1

by Jacqueline Pearce




  JACQUELINE PEARCE

  Flood Warning

  ILLUSTRATIONS BY Leanne Franson

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  Text copyright © 2012 Jaqueline Pearce

  Illustrations copyright © 2012 Leanne Franson

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Pearce, Jacqueline, 1962-

  Flood warning [electronic resource] / Jacqueline Pearce ;

  illustrations by Leanne Franson.

  (Orca echoes)

  Electronic monograph in PDF format.

  Issued also in print format.

  ISBN 978-1-4598-0069-4

  1. Floods--British Columbia--Fraser River Valley--Juvenile fiction. 2. Fraser River Valley (B.C.)--History--Juvenile fiction. I. Franson, Leanne II. Title. III. Series: Orca echoes (Online)

  PS8581.E26F56 2012 JC813’.6 C2011-907779-5

  First published in the United States, 2012

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2011943722

  Summary: The Fraser River is about to flood, so Tom must get his family’s dairy cows to safety before it’s too late. A historical story set in 1948, near the farming community of Agassiz.

  Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

  Orca Book Publishers is dedicated to preserving the environment and has printed this book on paper certified by the Forest Stewardship Council®.

  Cover artwork and interior illustrations by Leanne Franson

  Author photo by Danielle Naherniak

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  PO BOX 5626, Stn. B

  Victoria, BC Canada

  V8R 6S4 ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  PO BOX 468

  Custer, WA USA

  98240-0468

  www.orcabook.com

  Printed and bound in Canada.

  15 14 13 12 • 4 3 2 1

  Thanks go to my dad, Jack Pearce, and my father-in-law,

  Bill Naherniak (also known as Farmer Bill),

  who helped with the details of the farm and time period.

  I would also like to thank the Agassiz-Harrison Museum

  and the Chilliwack Museum and Archives.

  —JP

  To all those brave Canadians across this country who

  courageously deal with floods and their aftermath.

  —LF

  Contents

  Chapter One: The River

  Chapter Two: Milking Time

  Chapter Three: Alarm Call

  Chapter Four: Rising Concern

  Chapter Five: Be Careful What You Wish For

  Chapter Six: Closing In

  Chapter Seven: Rescue

  Chapter Eight: Evacuation Plans

  Chapter Nine: What to do?

  Chapter Ten: Tom’s Plan

  Chapter Eleven: Amos Helps

  Chapter Twelve: Cattle Drive

  Chapter Thirteen: Tent City

  Chapter Fourteen: Graveyard Island

  Chapter Fifteen: Home

  CHAPTER ONE

  The River

  “Hi-ho, Silver! Away!” shouted Tom.

  He was pretending to be the Lone Ranger, his favorite radio hero. Amos, Tom’s scruffy black and brown dog, pricked up his ears. Amos seemed to know he was playing the part of Silver, the Lone Ranger’s horse. Boy and dog took off running across the field.

  Dunt-da-dalunt-da-daluntuntun, dunt-da-dalunt-da-daluntuntun…The show’s opening music played in Tom’s mind. Every Sunday evening, Tom and his parents gathered around the big radio in the living room. They listened to the adventures of the Lone Ranger, his fiery horse, Silver, and his faithful companion, Tonto. Every week, the heroic masked rider and his daring friend fought for law and order in the Old West.

  “Wait up!” called Tom’s friend, Peggy. She ran after Tom and Amos. Her two brown braids flew out behind her.

  Ah, my faithful friend, Tonto, Tom thought as Peggy caught up to him. But he didn’t say it out loud. Peggy always wanted to be the Lone Ranger, not the sidekick.

  Amos barked loudly. Several brown and white cows trotted out of their way. Tom lifted his face to the warm sun. It was perfect weather for the May long weekend. He wished tomorrow was a holiday too.

  They reached the wooden fence at the end of the field. Tom and Peggy stopped to catch their breath. Tom lifted a loose board at the bottom of the fence, so Amos could pass under. Then he and Peggy climbed over. They faced a tangle of low bushes and weedy alder trees.

  “Come on!” said Tom. He waved a hand for Peggy to follow him. “We’re almost at the river.”

  “Okay,” Peggy said. “But this time I’ll lead the way.”

  She pushed past Tom and ran down a trail through the underbrush. They could hear the sound of the river ahead. Peggy emerged from the trees and stopped in surprise. Tom and Amos almost bumped into her.

  Usually, there was a wide gravel bank between the trees and the river. But now, the water had crept up over the rocks. It was lapping at a row of sandbags piled at the edge of the trees.

  “Do you think it’s going to flood?” Peggy asked.

  “Nah,” Tom said. “If the water gets any higher, the sandbags will stop it.”

  Each spring, when the snow melted in the mountains, the waters of the Fraser River rose. Two years ago, soldiers back from the Second World War had piled sandbags along the river. The sandbags acted like a dyke, or a low wall, to help keep the water from flooding the farmland.

  “I don’t know,” Peggy said. She pointed to a spot where a section of sandbags had fallen over and left a gap. “Those sandbags don’t look like they could stop much.”

  She glanced up at the sun, which was getting lower in the sky.

  “I’ve got to get home to help with milking,” she said.

  “Me too,” said Tom. There was never a holiday from milking.

  Reluctantly, Tom turned away from the widening brown river. If there were a flood, what would the Lone Ranger do?

  CHAPTER TWO

  Milking Time

  When they got back to Tom’s house, the cows were already shuffling into the barn for milking. Peggy said goodbye and raced down the driveway. Her family’s dairy farm was just across the road.

  Tom forgot about the river and hurried into the barn. His dad was using a pitchfork to toss hay into the cows’ feed troughs.

  “You’re late,” Dad said, not looking up. He handed Tom the pitchfork. It was Tom’s job to feed the cows. Tom’s mom and dad did the milking.

  Tom stuck the fork into a hay bale. He pulled out some loose hay and dropped it into the next stall. He finished putting out the hay and made sure the cows were settled into their stalls. Then he went to help with the milking.

  Dad was bent under a large brown and white cow. He directed streams of milk into a metal pail. When the pail was full, he passed it to Tom. It took all of Tom’s strength to lift the pail. He dumped the milk into the tall metal container used for storing and shipping milk.

  The family’s dairy farm was small. They had ten Guernsey cows and some spring calves. The male calves had already been sold. Three female calves remained with their mothers. The adult cows had to be milked twice a day, early in the morning and before supper. Tom’s parents did all the milking by hand. It took abou
t an hour and a half to finish. When they bought a milking machine, it would be quicker.

  It wasn’t until the family was sitting around the kitchen table eating supper that Tom remembered the river.

  “I went down to the river today with Amos and Peggy,” Tom told his parents.

  “So that’s why you were late,” said Dad, sounding annoyed. But his mouth quirked sideways. Tom knew he wasn’t really mad.

  “The river’s getting pretty high,” Tom said.

  Tom’s mom looked at her husband with concern. “It won’t rise high enough to flood, will it?” she asked.

  “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about,” said Dad. But the smile had left his lips.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Alarm Call

  Tom woke in the middle of the night. Someone was banging on the front door of the house. Amos got up from the floor beside Tom’s bed. He barked twice, then padded out of the room and down the stairs.

  Tom’s parents stirred in the next bedroom. Dad’s footsteps followed Amos down the stairs. The front door clicked opened. Tom could hear muffled voices, quiet but urgent. What was going on?

  Tom climbed out of bed and listened at the top of the stairs. He heard the words river and rising steadily. A chill ran up his back.

  “What are you doing up?” said his mother.

  Tom turned to see Mom standing in the hallway. She had her housecoat on over her nightgown.

  “Go back to bed,” she said. “It’s a school night.”

  “But I want to know what’s happening,” Tom said.

  Dad appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “There’s a flood warning all along the river!” he called up to them. “I’m going to help build up the sandbags.”

  “I want to help too,” Tom said.

  Mom put a hand on Tom’s arm, holding him back. “It’s nothing for you to worry about,” she said. “The men will take care of it.”

  “I’m old enough to help,” Tom said. But Mom did not give in.

  She nudged him toward his bedroom. “There’s school in the morning,” she said. “You need to get your sleep.”

  Tom climbed back into bed. He heard the sound of the front door closing and men’s voices outside the house. He checked to see his mom wasn’t still in the doorway. Then Tom jumped out of bed and hurried to the window.

  A pickup truck was parked in the driveway below. It rumbled loudly. It was dark outside, but Tom could tell it was Peggy’s dad’s 1929 Ford. The light at the side of the house shone on her two older brothers in the back of the truck. Dad climbed into the cab next to Peggy’s dad. The truck doors slammed shut, and the motor coughed into gear.

  Tom leaned on the window ledge as the truck pulled away. He wished he was going with them. The Lone Ranger wouldn’t stay home and do nothing.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Rising Concern

  The next morning, Dad was home in time for the milking.

  “How’s the river look?” Tom asked.

  Dad shook his head. There were dark shadows under his eyes. “Still rising,” he said. “Men are working steady, building up dykes. I’ve got to get back there as soon as I’m finished here.”

  “Can I come with you this time?” Tom asked.

  Dad shook his head. “You’ve got school, and you’re going to have to help around here when you get home. Now, hurry up with that hay,” he said, striding into the barn. “We’ve got to finish quickly.”

  After the milking, Mom packed Dad some food and a thermos of coffee. He drove off with another group of men. Tom watched him go as he waited outside for Peggy. She and Tom walked to school together every morning.

  “I wish I could go with my dad instead of going to school,” Tom said when Peggy joined him.

  “Me too,” Peggy said.

  Amos barked as if in agreement. He trotted in front of Tom and Peggy, leading the way to the shortcut across the back field and through the neighboring farms. The cows were now out grazing. The new calves stood close to their mothers.

  “I wonder how high the river is,” said Tom. He pictured the sagging row of sandbags they had seen yesterday. Was water pouring over the top and through the cracks? Had the men fixed the wall and made it higher?

  When they reached the edge of the pasture, Tom and Peggy climbed the fence. Amos sat watching them. This was as far as he was allowed to go. He raised one brown eyebrow as if to say, Are you sure I can’t come with you?

  “Sorry, boy,” Tom said. He knew how Amos felt. He hated being left behind when his dad was off doing something important.

  “Hey,” Peggy said, breaking through Tom’s thoughts. “This field is soggy.”

  Tom felt mud tug at his shoes. When he lifted one foot, water slowly filled his footprint.

  “That’s strange,” Tom said. “Where’s the water coming from?”

  He looked up at Peggy, knowing the answer at once.

  “The river,” they said together.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Be Careful What You Wish For

  When they reached the school, Peggy said goodbye and joined the girls. Tom joined the crowd of boys. The boys and girls filed into the school in two separate lines. They weren’t supposed to talk, but today there was a buzz of whispers. Tom caught Peggy’s eye as they entered their grade-three classroom. They weren’t sitting long before the teacher made an announcement.

  “The town has declared a state of emergency,” she said. “The school is closing. You must all go home to help your families prepare for the flood.”

  “What about the dykes?” asked a girl.

  “The dykes will slow the water for a while,” said the teacher. “But they won’t stop the flood.”

  Tom and Peggy met outside the school.

  “Come on!” Peggy said, starting to run.

  Tom joined her. He couldn’t help grinning. He had gotten his wish for an extra day off school.

  They climbed the first fence on their way home and stopped. The field had been damp when they walked through it earlier. Now, muddy water glistened on the surface. Green shoots of newly planted corn poked up through the water.

  Sitting on top of the fence, Tom took off his shoes and socks and rolled up his pants. He jumped off the fence and landed with a splash. Peggy slipped off her shoes and socks and jumped.

  They tried to hurry across the field, but the water came up to their knees in the low spots. Peggy had to hold up her dress. They crossed two more farms before nearing the fence around Tom’s farm. Amos waited for them on the other side.

  Tom was relieved to see his family’s farm was still mostly dry. But the water was creeping under the fence, filling ruts and holes. When Tom and Peggy climbed over the fence, Amos ran around behind them and barked excitedly. It was as if he was trying to herd them away from the rising water.

  “Good boy, Amos,” Tom said, reaching out to scratch the dog’s head. “We’re coming.”

  As they neared his house, Tom realized his second wish was coming true. But not in the way he had expected. He had wanted to go to the river to help. But now the river was coming to him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Closing In

  Peggy said goodbye and ran down the driveway toward her own house. Tom looked over his family’s farm. No water had reached the house or barn yet. But he knew it was moving closer. The cows were usually at the far end of the pasture at this time of day. Today they stood close to the barn. A few cows mooed restlessly.

  “I’m home!” Tom called as he entered the house. “They closed the school.”

  Tom’s mom stood in the kitchen, holding a chair. She frowned for a moment, then sighed.

  “I guess that’s just as well,” she said. “You can help move the furniture upstairs.”

  “Do you think the water will come into the house?” Tom asked.

  “I hope not,” said Mom. “But better safe than sorry.”

  Tom and Mom spent the next hour carrying furniture to the second floor of the house. Then they rolled
up the living-room carpet and hauled it up the stairs. They dropped it in the hallway and sat down on top of it.

  “I’m beat,” said Tom.

  “Me too,” said Mom. She pushed a strand of damp hair off her forehead.

  From the hallway, Tom could see through the open doors of the two bedrooms and the spare room. The rooms were crammed with furniture. He would have to climb over the kitchen table to get to his bed.

  “Maaa! Maaa!”

  “Moo!”

  The calls of upset cows rose to the upstairs windows. Mom stood up.

  “What’s going on?” she asked. She and Tom hurried to a window.

  Below, a large group of cows was gathered at the edge of the spreading water. In the middle of the water, on a small island of grass, stood a lone calf.

  “Maaa!” the little calf cried.

  “Moo!” answered its mother from across the barrier of water.

  “We’ve got to rescue it!” said Tom.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Rescue

  Tom and Mom hurried outside. While they had been busy moving furniture, brown murky water had crept up over the field around the cow barn. The cows were bunched in between the water and the barn. In front of the group stood one mother cow. Her head stretched out toward the calf who was stuck on the little mound of grass.

  “Moo!” called the mother cow, as if calling the calf to come join her.

  “Maa!” replied the frightened calf, refusing to budge.

  Tom was still in bare feet. He rolled up his pants again and waded out to the calf’s island. He stepped up behind her, set his hands on her hindquarters and pushed. The calf did not move.

  “Come on,” Tom said in a gentle voice. “The water’s not deep. You’ll be through it in no time.”

  The calf took one step into the water, then stepped back again. “Maa!”

 

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