Southern Ruby

by Belinda Alexandra

  ‘So,’ he said, studying us from under his bushy eyebrows, ‘what symptoms have you been experiencing lately, Ruby?’

  ‘I was dizzy this morning, but I’m better now,’ she said. ‘Amandine had a delightful young man over last night and I think that went straight to my head — and perhaps the glass of port.’

  Doctor Wilson clucked his tongue, the traces of a smile twitching on his lips. ‘Well, come sit on the bench and let’s see what that ticker of yours is doing.’ He listened to her chest through his stethoscope. ‘You haven’t had any pain? No shortness of breath?’

  Grandma Ruby shook her head.

  ‘We’ll take a blood test to be on the safe side,’ he said, strapping her arm and taking out a syringe. He turned to me. ‘I had to increase her warfarin when she came last and that may be making her feel a bit off until her body readjusts. But all her vitals are good. The most important thing is that she keeps taking her medications exactly as instructed. Suddenly ceasing any of them is very dangerous, especially the warfarin. Stopping that can lead to a stroke.’

  He helped Grandma Ruby off the bench and back into the patient’s chair. Then he returned to his desk and wrote out a script. ‘That storm in the Atlantic looks like it’s gaining strength and might come this way. I’m writing a script for more medication in case you have to evacuate.’ I shifted in my seat. That the storm might be turning into a hurricane didn’t sound good.

  Doctor Wilson must have noticed my alarm because he quickly added, ‘It’s a precaution. Better to be over-prepared than under-prepared.’

  When we came out of the office, Blaine was in the car talking on his mobile phone. ‘All good?’ he asked, after he ended the call.

  ‘The doctor gave us an extra script and took a blood test in case her warfarin level is too high,’ I said, opening the car door and helping Grandma Ruby into the back seat. ‘Otherwise everything seems good.’

  ‘I was just speaking to a real estate agent friend of mine in Upstate New York,’ he said. ‘The furnishings of a deceased estate are going up for auction and he said they are magnificent. I’ve booked a flight for this afternoon. I’ll write out all my contact details in case you need me.’ He turned and smiled at Grandma Ruby. ‘But Madame Ruby is looking much better already.’

  After we’d returned home and Blaine had gone back to his shop, I tried to ring Aunt Louise and Uncle Jonathan again to let them know about the storm. I got their message banks again, so I called the ranch that had organised the trek.

  ‘Echo Valley Ranch, how can I help you?’ the receptionist answered.

  ‘I need to contact Mrs Lalande-Barial. I’m her niece.’

  The receptionist paused for a moment. I could hear her shuffling papers. ‘I’m sorry, ma’am, Mrs Lalande-Barial and her husband are on our total silence retreat and won’t be contactable until Monday.’

  ‘It’s an emergency,’ I told her. ‘I need to contact them immediately.’

  ‘I’m sorry, ma’am, but the point of the trek is to get away completely.’

  ‘But it’s an emergency,’ I repeated. ‘I’m in New Orleans, I’m looking after my grandmother, Mrs Lalande-Barial’s mother, and a hurricane might be coming our way.’

  ‘Unfortunately I can’t make contact. It is a condition of the trip that all participants leave their cell phones at the ranch.’

  The receptionist remained polite but I could tell from her clipped tone that she was losing patience with me. I’d dealt with her type before. Whenever Julie at Tony’s real estate office went on leave, we’d end up with temps who took their roles as gatekeepers far too seriously.

  I sucked in a breath to calm myself, but before I could speak the receptionist added, ‘You know, in the good old days, emergency or not, you would have had to write a letter and it wouldn’t have gotten here for months.’

  Was she serious?

  ‘Surely their guide has a cell phone?’ I said tersely. ‘What would happen if one of the guests got sick or was bitten by a snake? Would he send the message for help on tom-toms?’ The receptionist gasped and I knew I’d gone too far. ‘Listen,’ I added, in a more placating tone.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve got another call coming in.’

  The line went dead.

  I took Elliot’s advice and drove to Walgreens to stock up on bottled water, batteries and non-perishable foods. The store wasn’t overly busy, but the customers all seemed to be surreptitiously checking out what everyone else was buying. I noticed handwipes were being snapped up so I got a couple of canisters myself.

  Two cashiers were discussing what they would do if a hurricane started heading this way. ‘You’d feel like a fool for evacuating if nothing happened, but an even bigger fool if you didn’t and something actually did,’ one of them said.

  On my way back to the car, my mobile phone rang. It was Elliot.

  ‘Hey, Amandine! I’m sorry, I won’t get a chance to come over today. The university has called an emergency planning meeting and I think we’re going to go late into the evening.’

  ‘It sounds like things are getting serious,’ I said. ‘I’ve just come out of Walgreens and two of the cashiers were talking about evacuating. Grandma Ruby’s doctor gave me an extra script for her medication in case we have to leave town.’

  ‘Don’t worry. We went through all this panic last year with Hurricane Ivan and nothing happened. Most likely this thing will bypass us again. But let’s keep our eye on the news. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.’

  When I woke the following morning, Lorena was blending something in the kitchen and had the television news on so loud I could hear the voice of a weather woman.

  ‘If you are in Florida you’ll be pleased to know that Hurricane Katrina has been downgraded to a tropical storm again after making landfall last night as a category one hurricane. Let’s show you what’s happening with the storm on the radar. As you can see, the eye is now moving west over Florida and we are getting those bands of heavy rains and reports of trees down and about 1.3 million power outages.

  ‘But while Katrina may be a tropical storm for now it’s not likely to stay that way. According to the National Hurricane Center, the storm will work its way into the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico, where it won’t take long for it to regenerate its strength. Landfall is likely in the Panhandle of Florida, but there is a wide band of uncertainty. We could see landfall as far west as Mississippi and Alabama, maybe even New Orleans. But one thing is for certain: Hurricane Katrina is not finished with us yet . . .’

  When I went to the kitchen, I found Lorena staring at the television screen. ‘That thing better stay in Florida,’ she said. ‘Have you ever been in a hurricane?’

  ‘No.’

  She clucked her tongue. ‘They’re not something you fool around with. My husband and I already have the car packed, and if the city says to go, we’re going. We lived through Hurricane Hugo in Puerto Rico. We know what those winds can do.’

  I watched the morning news programs while eating breakfast. They were giving advice about what to do to prepare for a hurricane, including stowing valuables and, if you lived in the lower-lying areas of New Orleans, moving furniture to the upper floors. When I thought of all the antiques and family heirlooms here that could be damaged, my stomach turned to knots.

  I rang Blaine to see what he recommended. To my astonishment, he laughed off my concerns.

  ‘Go see my assistant, Poppy, at the shop and get some bubble wrap and boxes to put away any fragile ornaments. If you want to, you can cover with plastic any furniture that might get wet if a window breaks, but that’s really all you can do, honeybun. Stash Ruby’s jewellery in the safe if you intend to evacuate, but looters will walk straight past the nineteenth-century Italian parcel-gilt chairs looking for televisions, computers and money.’

  ‘What do you do about your shop?’ I asked, thinking of all the treasures I’d seen there.

  ‘We close the shutters, put the alarm on long-life battery and hop
e for the best,’ he replied with a sigh. ‘I love everything I’ve collected, but it wouldn’t be practical to move it all each time we got a hurricane warning. That’s why I have insurance.’

  As I chatted to Blaine about the estate auction he was attending, my head throbbed. The only emergency I’d ever been in was the Sydney bushfires in the mid-nineties, but I’d been a teenager then and Nan and Tony had taken care of everything.

  When I returned to the kitchen, Lorena was organising the refrigerator. ‘I’ve moved all the perishables to the front,’ she told me. ‘If you end up evacuating, clear them out before you leave. The fastest way to ruin a refrigerator is to let food spoil in it.’

  I went to check on Grandma Ruby, who was still lying in bed.

  ‘How are you today?’ I asked.

  She placed her hand on her abdomen. ‘My stomach hasn’t been the best. I think it’s the change in medication.’

  ‘I’ll ring Doctor Wilson and see if your results are in yet.’

  She smiled weakly. ‘It was sweet of Elliot to offer us to stay the weekend at his sister’s place, but I don’t feel like making a long trip in a car when I’m not well. This old house has withstood many storms, Amandine, and the Garden District is not prone to flooding. We’ll be fine. Ask Elliot to come and stay here, and your piano teacher, Terence, too if you like.’

  I was touched by her offer. ‘One of Terence’s neighbours is disabled and the others are elderly. He wants to look after them.’

  ‘He can bring them all,’ she replied. ‘We’ll make a party of it. It will be like the old days.’

  It was time to come clean with Grandma Ruby. She might not be so enthusiastic when she learned where Terence and his neighbours lived.

  ‘He lives in the Lower Ninth Ward.’

  To my surprise she didn’t bat an eyelid. ‘What’s wrong with that? Plenty of hard-working people do. You forget my little charge during school integration, Elsie Matthews, came from there. Through hard work that family paid off their mortgage long before many richer people manage to do, and they even sent Elsie to college. I heard that she became a fine doctor. I’m not worried about where people live.’

  I put my arm around her and pressed my cheek to hers. Nan had been a generous woman too but I couldn’t imagine that she would ever have opened her home to strangers. Grandma Ruby was exceptional and I was sure it was her scandalous and spectacular life that had made her that way. She truly did not judge other people by their race or economic status but solely on their character. It made me love her more. ‘Thank you,’ I told her. ‘I’ll let them know you’ve invited them.’

  I went to pick up the bubble wrap and boxes from Blaine’s assistant, a pretty Italian girl with pale skin and dark ringlets.

  ‘Your grandma is right,’ she told me. ‘That old house of hers is well-built. As long as you stay away from the windows, you’ll be quite safe. But where your aunt and uncle live could flood if the levees overflow.’

  When I returned to the car, I called Doctor Wilson’s office, but his answering machine said he was out of town for the weekend. I tried to ring Aunt Louise, but her message bank was full. I considered speaking to the uncooperative receptionist again, but decided I couldn’t face it. I had the keys and alarm code for the house in Lake Terrace. I may as well go there myself and move the art objects to the upper floors and pack away any possible projectiles in the garden.

  If New Orleans was in real danger, it didn’t seem that way. I passed a high-school jamboree, a real estate agent sticking a sold sign on a front lawn, and a painter on a scaffold touching up the trims on a house.

  When I reached Aunt Louise and Uncle Jonathan’s place, I found one of their neighbours already putting the patio furniture in the garage.

  ‘I’m Bob Kennard,’ said the ruddy-cheeked man, offering me his hand. ‘Johnny and I always keep an eye on each other’s places when one of us is out of town. I had trouble reaching his cell, so I decided I’d best put everything away just to be sure.’

  ‘Thank you. Are you planning to evacuate?’ I asked, remembering the calm atmosphere on the drive over.

  He shrugged. ‘My wife said we should make a weekend of it. We’re flying to San Francisco tonight. I’m kind of bummed to be missing the Saints game in the Superdome tonight though.’

  ‘Is the airport still open? I thought they would have started cancelling flights.’

  ‘Sure is. My daughter works there. The funny thing is, she told us that a bunch of Australian tourists arrived this morning looking forward to a weekend of partying. Nobody told them about the hurricane warning.’

  Not so funny for them, I thought. Who listens to the news when they’re on holiday? I thanked Bob for his help with the garden furniture.

  ‘No problem,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry about turning off the electricity and gas. I’ll do that before we leave for the airport — that way the burglar alarm can continue to operate on battery for as long as possible.’

  I spent the next few hours moving the Native American artefacts to the upper floors, packing as much as I could into the large walk-in wardrobe and adjoining ensuite, both of which didn’t have exterior windows. As I worked, I noticed how solidly built the house was and that it had some hurricane protection in its design, including impact-resistant and well-sealed doors and windows. Wind getting into a house during a storm was what caused roofs to blow off and walls to collapse. Maybe contemporary houses had more merits than I gave them credit for — when they were well designed. But how it would survive a flood from a storm surge depended on the water level. The house was on the high side of the street, but it was built too close to the ground. If I’d designed it, I would have raised it.

  My mobile rang, rousing me from my architectural fantasies. It was Elliot.

  ‘Well, today was very ordinary until this afternoon when the National Weather Service started saying it looks like that storm in the Gulf might turn in our direction,’ he said. ‘Everyone in my building is now planning to leave town tomorrow, and I’ve heard the Hyatt has been fully booked by people who will feel safer there than in their own homes. It’s weird. My colleagues who were deadset against leaving only a few hours ago are now saying this is the Big One!’

  ‘Grandma Ruby doesn’t want to leave,’ I told him. ‘She’s not feeling well. She invited you to stay with us if you want to.’

  ‘Let’s see how things go,’ he said calmly. ‘If it looks like it’s better to evacuate, I’ll have to use my dashing charm to persuade her. Meanwhile, pack a couple of bags — one for her and one for yourself. I’m going to move everything to the upper floor of my apartment this evening. I’ll come over in the morning. We should have a clearer idea by then of what this thing is going to do.’

  Aunt Louise had already emptied her fridge of perishables before going on her trip. I unplugged it, along with the television in the sitting room, which was too large for me to take upstairs.

  I got back into the car and thought about Terence. I took out the street directory and looked up how to get to the Lower Ninth Ward. But when I knocked on Terence’s door, he wasn’t home. I wrote him a note and slipped it into his letterbox.

  Hi, Terence, I don’t know what’s going to happen with the storm, but I’ve got a car at the moment and I can pick you and your neighbours up if you want to stay with us in the Garden District. My grandmother says you are all welcome and wants to throw a party.

  I included my mobile number and address. Then I returned to the Garden District, arriving just as Lorena was leaving.

  ‘I’ve left my and my husband’s cell numbers on the fridge,’ she said. ‘Make sure you pack your grandmother’s medicine if you end up leaving. That’s more important than anything else.’

  Grandma Ruby didn’t feel like dinner and went to bed early. I sat up with Flambeau, trying to make sense of the weather reports on the television. The Governor of Louisiana had declared a state of emergency, but exactly what did that mean? In the still, muggy air I could hear the
bell of the St Charles Avenue streetcar, which was obviously still running, and the sounds of lively voices and glasses clinking emanating from the house next door. It sounded like a dinner party. People weren’t rushing to their cars and speeding off. What sort of emergency was it?

  Tired from all the work I’d done in the heat that day, I turned the volume down and drifted off to sleep with Flambeau resting in my lap. In the early morning I was woken by my mobile phone beeping. I reached for it and stared with bleary eyes at the screen. It was a text message from Tamara in Australia: I’ve just seen the news. If you are still in New Orleans GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE! Call me as soon as you can! Tammy xx

  I looked at the television. Something was definitely happening. A panel of people were nodding their heads in a serious manner. I reached for the remote control and turned the sound up. The first words I heard were: ‘It is now confirmed that New Orleans is in the cone. I’ll repeat that again. New Orleans is now in the cone.’

  The cone of what? I wondered. An ice cream cone? A traffic cone? Maxwell Smart’s Cone of Silence? It was obviously a term people who lived in the Gulf States understood immediately, but to my foggy brain it was gobbledygook.

  I glanced at the clock. It was four in the morning. I wanted to call Elliot so he could explain what was happening, but he had sounded tired the previous day, and if we were going to spend hours in the car, I’d better let him sleep now.

  I flicked to another channel. The blonde newsreader looked earnestly into the camera and informed viewers: ‘It is confirmed that Katrina is now a major hurricane. While it’s currently rated as a category three, there are fears tonight that as it gathers strength over the warm waters of the Gulf it will become a terrible category four, and perhaps even a catastrophic category five storm. Meteorologists predict landfall sometime on Monday. The National Weather Service has released a bulletin saying: “The bottom line is, Katrina is expected to be an intense and dangerous hurricane heading towards the North Central Gulf Coast.” They warn that the threat should be taken very seriously, and anyone who is able to leave the coastal area while the roads are still clear should do so now.’