Once I put Mandy down to sleep, I called Tex on his cell phone.
“I was followed by Triggers tonight,” I said.
“What do you mean, ‘followed’?” Tex asked.
“I left work, picked up Mandy, then noticed him following me in his car on my way home.”
“Did you call the police?”
“Yes, I called Madisen Township’s police; they met me at a shopping center. Triggers took off when he saw me pull up to the police car.”
“Okay, so did you file a complaint?”
“Not yet.”
“Why the hell not?”
“They said I had to come down to the station. I had to get Mandy home, I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“So, why are you calling me?”
“So nice of you to be concerned.”
“I am concerned, but you need to get it on record and file that complaint.”
“Why do you think he was following me?”
“Who the hell knows what goes on in that deranged brain of his.”
“Do you think he was going to hurt me?”
“Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll run his name through the system to see if he has any major priors. I’ll call you right back.”
Nail biting was fast becoming a new bad habit of mine. I was anxiously awaiting a call back from Tex. Fifteen minutes later, I got the call.
“You’re not going to like what I found.”
“I don’t care. I need to know what I’m up against.”
“Oh calm down, I found nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing that you didn’t already know about. The egging, the pennies, the picketing. All things aimed toward getting his dunes back, I guess. I don’t think you have to be worried. I don’t see any violent acts.”
“What about how he pushed you?”
“I was in his face; he did step over the line. Do I think he would do that again? Not really.”
“Not to you he wouldn’t, and not in front of a dog,” I said.
“You could probably get a restraining order.”
“The courts are going to think I’m the crazy one, taking out another restraining order on a different person trying to kill me.”
“How do you know he was trying to kill you?”
“I don’t. So, if he wasn’t trying to kill me, how would I get a restraining order granted?”
“For stalking.”
“I don’t know, he’s already on the edge. I feel like if I do anything to push him over it, then he’ll do something to hurt me. I’m not ready to do a restraining order yet. I have enough people trying to do me bodily harm.”
“Well, keep it in mind.”
Talking to Tex didn’t help ease my mind or help me to gain any shuteye, but I’d be worse off if he had told me that Triggers was a serial killer.
* * *
The next morning, I was more cautious and vigilant than usual. I carefully checked all around the house for any suspicious cars or strangers lurking around. Because of the mayor and Triggers, I trusted no one. I kept my pepper spray in my hand, just in case.
I made it to my parents’ house and to work without any problems. I thought, I cannot continue to live like this. I knew I needed to find a different job, hit the lottery, or something. I opened up the newspaper when I got to work and I saw that the mayor’s court date was scheduled for April. April seemed like a lifetime away. I would surely have ulcers by April. Even then, there was no guarantee that Frita would go to jail and no guarantee she wouldn’t try to exact revenge on me.
My thoughts were broken by a voice saying, “Hello?”
I stepped out of my office and saw a Sheriff’s officer waiting patiently at the window for my signature. I took the envelope from him and signed his paperwork. I tore open the package. It was an appeal filed by Mr. Triggers. If he didn’t win the first suit, I didn’t know how he would win the appeal. I faxed it over to Colby.
I recalled that Triggers stopped coming by my office when he first filed suit. I hoped that he would do the same this time. I glanced down at my ringing phone. The caller ID showed it was Mr. Triggers. The man must had have ESP. I felt uneasy and quickly chose not to answer it. He left a voicemail saying, “Chelsey, I didn’t mean to scare you yesterday; I just wanted a chance to apologize. I didn’t mean to be disruptive or make you upset. My actions were intolerable and I hope you will accept my apologies.”
“That was unexpected,” I said out loud. I debated whether I should still go down to Madisen Township during my lunch break like I had planned. After contemplating it all morning, I decided to leave well enough alone. If Triggers tried anything again, I would go right away to file a complaint. Tex said he wasn’t violent and I didn’t want to cause him to become out of control by filing a complaint against him. I also didn’t feel like going to court to face him about a stalking complaint. Little did I know that Triggers was soon going to be the least of my worries with what was about to happen to the quaint little town of Sunshine.
Chapter 19
The weatherman announced a post-tropical cyclone would be hitting our region this week. I wasn’t quite sure what a post-tropical cyclone was, but it sounded dreadful. We had been through tornados and nor’easters, but never a cyclone. News reports were predicting tropical storm force winds, hurricane-like conditions, and potential tornados. It sounded worse than a hurricane, yet they dubbed it “Hurricane Sandy.” I also heard it being called “Frankenstorm,” which seemed more appropriate.
Our disaster preparedness team was ready to take action. I was part of the team. I was in charge of managing the emergency phones and ensuring the opening of the Sunshine’s shelter in the senior center. In the aftermath of a storm, I was also the one in charge of coordinating donations.
Our police department opened a twenty-four-hour Emergency Command Center. I prepared our standard press releases, indicating school and activity closures and evacuation routes. Flooding was a serious concern in Sunshine. We were surrounded by water. A storm surge would certainly do some major damage.
Within twenty-four hours, Sandy turned from her path of grazing the coastline and was headed for a direct hit to the island. Sunshine was in terrible danger.
I immediately issued a press release to evacuate the island. I had our IT consultant post the release on our website, Facebook page, and through a blast email. Unfortunately, residents didn’t take us very seriously at first. The weather seemed way too nice for a storm to be approaching. It was literally the calm before the storm.
I prepared notices to cancel the council meeting. Normally, this would be the decision of the mayor, but since I wasn’t talking to her, I went forward with the cancellation. I told Rodney to tell her the news. He was acting as an intermediary between the two of us. I felt fortunate that Mayor O’Donnell kept her distance and had left me alone thus far.
I was relieved about the meeting being cancelled. I hadn’t yet worked out how I was supposed to be at the meeting with the mayor running it. I didn’t know why she refused to step down. I was going to work it out with Bonnie so that she would be the one covering the evening council meetings for the remainder of the year. I was hoping Bonnie would be willing to do that because Bonnie didn’t seem as afraid of the mayor as I was. Since Bonnie knew her way around a gun, I wouldn’t be surprised if she would plan on showing up at the meetings packing. After this year, I was hoping the mayor didn’t win the election so that I wouldn’t need to worry about not being able to work the meetings. Then, in a few more months, the mayor would have her trial and be put away. With the storm and the meeting being cancelled, Bonnie couldn’t officially be reappointed as planned.
At lunchtime, I was able to leave work and fill sandbags for myself. Although I never experienced the lagoon flooding, I wasn’t taking any chances. I did my best to load my bags into the trunk of my car, then I headed back to work. I was working overtime for a couple of nights.
By the time the five o’clock news came on,
people knew this was no joke. Residents started calling our hotline in a panic. I tried to keep the callers as calm as possible. I gave out instructions on how the evacuation would be handled and where sandbags could be filled. I reminded them to take their medicines with them. There were several residents who had no family and nowhere to go. For those callers, information about our shelter was given, which would be open at eight o’clock the next morning. The rain was supposed to start at that time.
The police sent out a reverse 9-1-1 call, instructing all residents that the evacuation was mandatory and they had until three p.m. the following day to leave. At three thirty, the causeway to the island was to be shut down.
I worked until eight o’clock that night since we had plenty of volunteers to take over the phone lines. I knew my parents had already packed my dad’s SUV and their plan was to leave by six a.m. They were taking Mandy for me and heading to my cousins’ house in Lawrenceville. I headed home to cyclone-proof my house. I had to be at work the next day, and might even have to operate the shelter during the storm, but I wanted to be prepared in case I was told to evacuate as well.
I carefully placed all the sandbags around my backsliders. I gathered up my medications, some clothes, a blanket, a pillow, my important documents, and toiletries and threw them into a carry-on-sized suitcase. The only things of value that I owned consisted of a diamond pendant given to me by my grandmother and my former engagement ring that I planned to hock one day. I threw them both in my pocket.
I moved everything that I could to higher ground. The top of my entertainment center was filled with knick-knacks. I used the top shelves in my kitchen and closets for as many items I could fit. The top of my refrigerator worked as a nice shelf as well.
It was already midnight and I was wiped out, but I still had Mandy’s things to go through. I threw boxes of diapers into the car and I packed a duffle bag full of her clothes, rash cream, towels, and a few toys. I loaded the bags of her baby food, bottles, and formula in the car also. Two hours later, when my car could barely fit me in it, I locked up and went to bed.
* * *
At five o’clock in the morning, I woke up and couldn’t fall back to sleep. My internal clock must have reset itself since I was waking up with the baby every morning. I showered and dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and sneakers and headed out to work early. The rain hadn’t started, but gloomy dark clouds covered the sky.
My first stop was at the municipal building. I made sure that anything of importance was moved out of the basement. We didn’t need our computer server and other equipment ruined if the basement flooded. I then moved everything possible off the floors and out of the lower drawers of the filing cabinets. I did the best I could to protect the records and small pieces of equipment from flood waters.
When I arrived at the Emergency Command Center, I was alerted to a change of plans. There would be no shelter on the island. The cyclone was producing gale-force winds with gusts as strong as eighty mph. There would be major power outages. The surge would be crippling, if not devastating. The decision was made to turn off the gas to the island by six o’clock in the evening, before the storm was anticipated to make landfall, in an effort to prevent fires.
I manned the phones, which were ringing off the hook, while volunteers went door-to-door making sure that everyone knew there was a mandatory evacuation. Flyers were passed out with a checklist of what people should pack. Reflecting back on this past year, on all the things that I thought were terrible, I realized that none of it mattered. Everything I had gone through with the identity theft ring seemed to pale in comparison to this. This storm was going to affect every single person in Sunshine. I was worried that everyone, including me, would be safe and left unscathed from the storm.
By four o’clock, the emergency workers made their way off the island. I squeezed into my car and headed toward the evacuation route. Traffic had been bumper-to-bumper all day, but it was finally moving, albeit slowly. I anticipated arriving at my cousin’s house no later than six since the pace was sluggish, the rain was at a steady pour, and the wind was gusting powerfully. It was dark and hard to see, so I was appreciative of the fact that I could take my time driving.
Once I eased onto the highway, car speeds picked up to forty mph. My mind started to wander. I was troubled by the thought of my house being destroyed. I hoped that everyone left Sunshine and was sitting in a cozy living room with relatives that were far away from the deluge.
I pulled up to James’ and Daisy’s house and breathed a sigh of relief. I made it and I could see that my parents made it. I parked at the curb and let myself in their front gate. They lived in a large old colonial. Their home had four bedrooms, if you didn’t count the basement and attic apartments. My parents were staying in the basement, which was equipped with its own kitchen, bathroom, shower, living room, and dining room. Mandy and I were sleeping in the attic, mainly because it was too many steps upward for my parents’ feeble knees to handle.
I stepped up to the front porch and rang the doorbell. James greeted me at the door. I said hello, then headed right over to where my sweetie pie was playing with her blocks and gave her a big hug.
“Mommy missed Mandy,” I said.
I heard my mother behind me. “Oh, thank the lord you are here. I was worried sick about you! I wished you could have left with us. I was bothered by the fact that you may have had to stay there in Sunshine with this storm.”
James and my father unloaded my car while Daisy and I hoofed everything upstairs. When we were done unpacking, Daisy fixed me a plate of leftovers. I hadn’t remembered to eat all day and the smell of the chicken and mashed potatoes warming in the microwave sent hunger pangs to my belly. After I finished eating, I joined everyone in the living room. It was after seven and Mandy was sound asleep on the floor. I picked her up and brought her upstairs where I had set up her Pack ‘N Play and put her to bed. I changed into my nightclothes and crashed as well.
At midnight, I was awakened by the sound of the cable box clicking off. Power just went out, I thought. A beat later, it clicked back on. “Full-house generator. Good investment,” I said as I rubbed my weary eyes.
I found the remote and clicked on the TV. On every channel was news coverage of the storm. They announced flooding, heavy rain, and strong winds. Sandy made landfall at eight o’clock that night. High tide was around ten o’clock. The storm surge was peaking. It wasn’t until they showed the preliminary video footage that I started to cry. It was still dark out, but you could still see enough to tell that practically everything on the east coast was under water.
I left the bedroom to go downstairs to my parents. I stood near their bed in the basement, clutching the baby monitor in one hand and placing my other hand on my father’s shoulder. He roused.
“Dad,” I whispered in a still shaky voice. “It’s all gone. Our homes are gone.”
He jumped out of the bed, flew to the TV, and pressed the power button. The reporter said, “This is the worst storm in the history of New Jersey; the devastation is unparalleled. We have never seen anything like it.”
My father and mother looked at each other and broke down in tears. I had never seen my father cry before. I was heartbroken. We all continued to watch the news while we hugged each other and wept. The damage we saw was unspeakable. Some areas looked like houses were placed in the middle of a riverbed. Entire homes had washed away. Millions were without power in Maryland, Delaware, New York, and New Jersey.
By two o’clock in the morning, I knew I had to get some sleep. Mandy would be up in a mere three hours and I couldn’t stand by and do nothing. I knew I needed to go help Sunshine tomorrow somehow. I closed my swollen eyes and tossed and turned until it was time to get Mandy’s bottle ready.
* * *
The sun was rising. The storm had passed, but left a trail of ruin in its wake. By seven o’clock, I was showered, dressed in sweats, and ready to go.
“Are you out of your mind?” my father growled at
me without taking his eyes off the television. “You can’t get over the bridge; it’s still flooded. What on Earth do you think you are going to do to help out?”
“I don’t know, Dad, but I’m on the Emergency Management Team and I need to find out what is going on and where I’m needed. I have an election to worry about too. I’m responsible to run that election, no matter what.”
“For heaven sakes, Tom, go with her and help her. Maybe you can see how bad the house is,” my mother said.
I heard him grumble something under his breath. I was sure he was cursing us both. None of us had gotten much sleep the night before and I didn’t think he was prepared to see what had happened to his neighborhood.
We jumped in the car and were on our way. Traffic was minimal. The Governor had declared a State of Emergency, which was still in effect.
“What on Earth are you going to say if we get pulled over? We’re not supposed to be on the road,” my father said.
“All I have to do is show my work ID, Dad, and they will understand that I need to be there to assist in any way possible.”
It took us nearly two hours to get to Madisen. We were detoured several times by downed trees and power lines. Many traffic signals were down due to the power outages. At first, we saw mainly broken windows and missing roof shingles. We seldom saw another car on the road. As we continued to drive east, we saw homes in shambles. One home was literally sliced in half by a grand old oak that had uprooted. I prayed no one was hurt, but it seemed unlikely for my prayers to be answered.
Since I made it to Madisen, I made the decision to check on my house before anything else. There was a pole down, so I parked a block away, and we walked to my house. I kept my fingers crossed as we approached the driveway. I could see that the gutter had pulled away from the roof. The storm shutters were still in place. The siding was splashed with mud. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as we opened the front door. Electric was out. I peered around the living room, which looked okay. We moved to the kitchen, where I saw a puddle of water on the floor where the roof leaked. The food in the refrigerator had spoiled and the ice from the freezer had melted, causing another puddle.
Red Tape Page 15