I guess I could have told it in a way that made me sound like a hero, not a dumb kid home from vacation, but I didn’t. Truth was, I thought it was karma, God’s way of punishing me for not facing his storm like a man. Karma or not, that didn’t stop me from fleeing every storm since, until Hurricane Jolene.
She was still a tropical storm brewing off the coast of the Cayman Islands and was expected to make landfall in twenty-four hours. Suddenly doubting every decision I had made, I called Weylyn’s room at the Mermaid Motel. He didn’t answer, so I left a somewhat frantic, rambling message on his machine. When he called me back an hour later, he reassured me that everything was going to be fine, but I could hear the same doubt in his voice, too. I hung up the phone not feeling any better than I had when I picked it up.
Teddy Mitcham called an emergency council meeting. I contemplated skipping it because he was still angry with me over the phony Green Energy scam. At every meeting since, whenever anyone brought up projects that were in progress, Teddy passive-aggressively pretended we were exactly one thousand dollars short of being able to complete every one of them. Apparently, my error had cost the town two crosswalks, new uniforms for the high school marching band, and toilet paper for the library bathrooms. “I guess people will just have to wipe with the books,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. Unsurprisingly, no one else found it funny.
I got there twenty minutes late—thanks to the Conch Street Taco Bell, who towed my car again, forcing me to walk to city hall—and by that time the damage was done. I was barely in the door when I saw both Weylyn and my dad sitting at the conference table. Merlin sat in Weylyn’s lap, sniffing a plate of doughnuts that was just out of his reach. Horrified, I nearly turned around and ran the other direction when Teddy called to me, “Bobby! Weylyn was just introducing us to his magic pig. Why don’t you have a seat?”
I sank down into the seat opposite Weylyn, trying not to make eye contact with my dad. I shot Weylyn a “what the hell are you doing here?” glance, and he returned it with a polite smile and a shrug.
“So. Bobby…” Teddy sounded like he might choke on his own manners. “Weylyn here tells me you didn’t try to hire a levee engineer. You hired a pig to stop the hurricane.”
“That’s correct,” Weylyn answered and smiled at me as if he had just done me a favor.
Finally, my dad spoke. I didn’t need to see his face to know how angry he was. “Bobby? Is this true?”
“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” I muttered.
Weylyn frowned. “You came to us last month and asked us to help you. I assure you that we have every intention of keeping our promise. Merlin and I are men of our word.” Councilwoman Flores almost snorted her iced latte out of her nose. Weylyn didn’t seem to notice.
I fixed my gaze on the plate of doughnuts to avoid having to face my dad. “I don’t know what this is about. I’ve never met this guy before.”
Finally, my dad lost his temper. “Teddy has signed checks in this man’s name that prove otherwise, Bobby. You’re in serious shit, you know that? Some folks would call that fraud. I bet the voters might if it comes to a recall election. Then again, if the council brings it to the state legislature, which they’re considering, you might be impeached. You know what impeachment is, Bobby? It’s a trial. You’ll have to swear on the Bible to tell the truth, so you might as well fess up now and save yourself the public humiliation of admitting you believe in a magic pig.”
I didn’t know what to say. I just sat there, staring stupidly at that plate of doughnuts and thinking about what I’d tell my baby girl years from now on Take Your Daughter to Work Day. You don’t wanna watch your daddy scrubbing toilets, darlin’. Why don’t you go to work with Mommy instead? Least there you get free soda and crab legs.
I was so lost in my own thoughts that I barely realized what I was doing. Before I could stop myself, I had smashed the plate of doughnuts with my hand, squirting red globs of jelly on both Teddy and Merlin, who licked it off his snout with sticky delight. Teddy wasn’t so pleased. It had gotten in his mustache, and I could only imagine how hard that thing was to keep clean. He’d probably have to shave it off.
Before my dad could continue his tirade, I bolted. When I was safely outside on the sidewalk, I took a moment to catch my breath. A minute later, the front doors opened and out walked Weylyn, carrying Merlin in his arms. He spotted me and shook his head. “I don’t understand, Bobby.” He looked hurt—on the inside, I mean—although he might have got some jelly in his eye. “Why didn’t you tell them about us?”
“Did you not see what just happened in there?” I shouted. “Why couldn’t you have just lied like a normal person? Now they all think I’m insane!”
Weylyn’s eyes darkened like the storm clouds gathering overhead, and his left arm started swaying back and forth at the elbow. “You expected me to lie for you?”
“Yes! That’s what people do. They lie. They don’t go around telling people their pigs can magically stop hurricanes. That’s crazy.”
“You don’t believe me, either, do you?” said Weylyn bitterly. I felt the first drops of rain on the back of my neck.
“No … maybe. I don’t know.” I slumped onto a stone bench and put my head in my hands. At this point, I wasn’t sure what I believed. Weylyn was so sincere, and I wanted to believe him, but my dad had a talent for making me feel stupid. It almost didn’t matter if Merlin’s powers were real or not. I would never be able to convince my dad that I had done the right thing, and if I was being honest with myself, that’s all I had really wanted, anyway. The best thing I could do now was wait for the hurricane to drown my sorry ass.
Weylyn sat down on the bench beside me. “You’re right,” he said patiently. “This whole thing does seem crazy, but I promise you, it’s not. I wouldn’t tell you we could help you if we couldn’t. I’ve seen firsthand what Merlin can do. I’ve seen storms evaporate into thin air. I’ve seen the relief on people’s faces when their homes are saved. You have no real reason to trust a word I say. I know that. But Merlin and I would still like to help if you’ll let us.”
I lifted my head sheepishly. “Really?”
“Well, jelly doughnuts are his favorite.” The pig was still working the rest of the jelly off his snout with his tongue.
The way I saw it, I had nothing left to lose. “Tell him to be safe out there,” I said, nodding at the choppy ocean on the horizon.
Weylyn followed my gaze and inhaled deeply like a diver coming up for air. “I will,” he said before submerging once more.
28
MARY PENLORE
It was all over the news. Jolene was on track to reach category-four status by the time she made landfall. I had an idea what that looked like. While I was getting my master’s degree at the University of Michigan, I traveled to Florida over spring break with Habitat for Humanity and mucked houses that were destroyed by Hurricane Andrew. I shoveled muddy children’s toys out of broken windows and lingered on family photos before adding them to the pile of refuse on the front lawn. I saw the markings on the doors, an inventory of the number of dead that waited inside for loved ones to come by and give them names. I had seen what a storm like that could do, so I didn’t take the decision I was about to make lightly.
“How long before it makes landfall?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.” Weylyn and I had been surfing all morning as the waves geared up for the next day’s storm. We were sitting in the sand under the dock, Weylyn’s new home since he was kicked out of his motel. I offered him Quan’s and my couch, but he politely declined, saying the sound of the waves helped him sleep.
“They didn’t believe me,” Weylyn said as he chucked a seashell across the sand. “And Mayor Quinn denied even knowing me.”
“Are you surprised?”
He shrugged. “It’s not the first time I’ve been laughed at.”
I thought hard before saying what I said next. “This isn’t some cute trick, Weylyn … people could die.”<
br />
“You don’t think I know that?” he said, indignant.
“Only you know if what I’ve seen so far is coincidence or not. I just hope you know the difference.”
He looked me square in the eyes. “Even if I said I did, like everyone else, you wouldn’t believe me.”
We had nothing left to say to each other, so I started my walk home. I had a decision to make, too.
* * *
Quan already had our bags packed when I got home. “You packed my bag?” I said sharply.
“I figured it would save time if I packed for you. We should leave as soon as possible.” He was already grabbing his keys.
“Wait a second. Can we talk about this?”
“Talk about what?”
“I didn’t ask you to pack my bag.”
“I know. You didn’t answer your phone, as usual. You should put on your raincoat. It’s on top of your suitcase.” I glanced at the pile of waiting bags. Quan’s satchel was sitting on top, that awful patent law book poking out from one of the compartments. Six months’ worth of resentment toward him bubbled in my throat like acid as I unzipped my suitcase and started digging through it. “Where are my journals?”
“Oh. I don’t know—”
“And my photos? What about those?”
“Go grab them, but be quick. We gotta go,” he said impatiently.
“And the letter from my mom. And my postcard!”
“What postcard?”
“The one Weylyn gave me when he lived with wolves.”
“Wolves? What the hell are you talking about?”
Before I could stop myself, I was shouting. “I lived with a wolf pack! I watched one of them get shot and die. It was the second-saddest thing that’s happened to me after losing my mom, and you would have let all that wash away!”
Quan was obviously shocked. He put down his keys like they were a gun and I had another pointed at his head. “Mary. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I do know that we have to leave. Now. So why don’t you grab your journals and postcards or whatever and let’s get out of here.”
I thought about it for a full minute, pacing back and forth, toward the door and away. Quan watched me closely, a pained expression on his face. Finally, I answered, “I can’t.”
“What?”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Are you serious?” Now he was angry. His jaw was so clenched I thought it might come unhinged. “What’s his name?”
I guess my secret life wasn’t so secret, after all. “Whose name?”
“The guy you’ve been cheating on me with?”
“I’m not cheating on you, Quan.”
“Even if that’s true, he’s the reason you’re staying, isn’t it?”
He was the reason, but not because I wanted to die with him. This wasn’t some morbid love story. I wanted to watch him and Merlin save the people of this town. I wanted him to save me. “Yes.”
Quan had told me he loved me before, but there must have been something about the way he said it that didn’t convince me. I loved him, too, once, but his lackluster debut performance had stayed with me, gnawing slowly at my heart and sabotaging every “I love you” he shared with me after that. Maybe he hadn’t meant it that first time, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t love me the second or third time or that he didn’t love me now. In that moment, I had no doubt he loved me. The pink drained from his cheeks, leaving a sallow mask behind, his eyes bulbous and shimmering with the promise of tears.
“I’m sorry,” I added, too late.
“I hope that everything they’re saying about this storm is wrong … for your sake,” he said and handed me a letter. “It came this morning.” The return address on the envelope read, The Canis Fellowship. By the time I looked up, he was already gone.
29
BOBBY QUINN JR.
I woke to the shrill ring of my phone and rain hammering on the roof. The person on the other end of the line was no doubt my dad, calling to tell me—yet again—how badly I had fucked up. I didn’t need him to remind me because outside, my mistake roared. Never before had my incompetence been so hard to ignore. It was usually the kind of incompetence that got drunk and napped in places it shouldn’t, not the kind that flooded city streets and downed power lines. I had really outdone myself this time.
I buried myself deeper under the covers and waited for the phone to stop screeching. Two rings later, the machine picked up. “Bobby? Bobby, are you there?” It wasn’t my dad. It was Lacey, and she sounded scared. “Bobby, please pick up!”
I jumped out of bed and ran to the phone. “Lacey? What’s wrong?”
“My water just broke! I need to get to the hospital.”
“Wait … you didn’t leave town?” The day before I had told her to evacuate, but she clearly hadn’t listened.
“No, I’m at my apartment,” she said, panic rising in her voice. “Can you come get me?”
* * *
Traffic was slow because of the storm, bumper to bumper all the way to Pascagoula, where the closest hospital was located. All the while, Lacey cursed at the cars in front of us and lamented her decision to call me instead of an ambulance. “An ambulance would’ve had to get through all this traffic just to get to you. You would have had the baby on the ride back,” I reasoned.
“Better than having it in your dirty, piece-of-shit car!” she shrieked.
I was kind of hurt. I loved my car. It was the only thing I owned that cost more than $200.
“Just hold on. Everything’s gonna be fine.” The doubt in my voice was obvious, but I think Lacey was in too much pain to notice.
By the time we got to the hospital almost an hour later, the storm had really picked up steam. Palm trees bowed like bendy straws, and cars skidded on the inch of water that coated the road. Part of me would rather have been in my dad’s swimming pool with that alligator than watch the world I knew slowly drown.
A nurse helped Lacey into a wheelchair to take her to the maternity ward while I parked the car. The garage was full, so I had to park on the surface lot and walk through the downpour to get back to the emergency entrance. Lacey’s overnight bag was drenched, and so was I as I wandered the halls trying to find where the nurse had taken her.
When I finally found her, she looked upset.
“Hey. What’s wrong?”
She was close to tears. “The doctor says it’s too late for drugs! I gotta start pushing when he gets back.”
I sat down next to her on the bed. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be great.”
Thunder clapped and the lights flickered. Lacey’s eyes were as big as clay pigeons. “I’m scared, Bobby,” she whimpered and grabbed my hand.
“Don’t worry. I’m gonna keep you safe.”
She nodded, reassured, then cried out in pain as she had another contraction. “Get the doctor!”
I ran out of the room to find a doctor and heard something tapping against the window at the end of the hall. A tree branch was whipping itself against the glass, whack whack whack whack, like it might break through at any moment. I imagined glass shattering and water flooding in like through the porthole of a sinking ship. I imagined the whole hospital underwater and motionless bodies floating in white coats and gowns, already dressed for the next part of their existence as angels.
My dad was right. Weylyn was a fraud, and so was I. Instead of taking realistic steps to build a levee, I had put my faith in a delusional man and his pet pig. If I made it through the night, I would resign from office effective immediately.
There was a loud crack, and all the lights went out. Doctors and nurses stumbled over each other in the dark and threw around the word generator in panicked voices. I could hear Lacey wailing in the other room.
“Doctor!” I grabbed the nearest one I could find. “My baby’s coming.”
30
MARY PENLORE
I put on my raincoat and rubber boots and walked to the boardwalk in the heavy rain. I found Merli
n wandering alone in front of a boarded-up tiki bar. “What are you doing here alone?” I asked him, rhetorically of course. I scooped up the little pig in my arms and headed toward the water.
The beach was transformed. It no longer bore any resemblance to the place I knew. It had turned into the heaving, rancorous thing of sailors’ nightmares. A monster that danced on a graveyard of ships. I found Weylyn under the dock, standing as alert as a soldier. He looked shocked to see me. “What are you doing here?”
The rain beat so heavily on the boards above it sounded like machine-gun fire. I had to shout over it, “Because I believe you!”
Weylyn’s mouth twitched briefly into a smile, then disappeared. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous,” he said. “And what’s Merlin doing here?”
“I found him on the boardwalk—”
“I told him to wait in the concessions building,” he said curtly and snatched the pig from me. “You should really go.”
“No! I’m part of whatever this is whether you like it or not.”
Weylyn studied me like a drill sergeant evaluating a new recruit. I must have passed, because he turned silently back to the army of waves that were storming the beach.
“How much longer?” I asked.
“Not long,” he said, holding Merlin tight to his chest so the tide wouldn’t grab him. The pig watched the stormy sea, and I watched the pig. I didn’t want to miss the moment when it happened.
It wasn’t long before we were wading in almost a foot of water that would catch my legs every time a wave rolled in. “It’s getting worse,” I said nervously. A strong wave rocked over my knees, and I lost my balance. Weylyn reached out and steadied me before I could fall. “Hold on to this.” He guided me to a cross section of two support beams. I wedged myself between them.
“Take Merlin,” he said and handed me the pig. “Keep him safe.”
“What? Why?”
“Please?” he pleaded.
Weylyn stepped out from underneath the dock. I shouted after him, “Where are you going? Weylyn!”
Weylyn didn’t answer. He lifted his knees high and trudged through the waves that plowed against him, toward the ocean. The rain parted like a curtain as he walked through it, then closed behind him.
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