by Pamela Davis
"So this woman said we are having a hurricane today?" Matt said in disbelief.
"Yep," replied Andy, "she calls me up from somewhere in Arizona and claims to be having visions of natural disasters. The funny thing was she didn't sound like a nutcase. Very articulate, used all the right meteorological terms, she sounded mostly, well, scared."
"But why did she call you?" Matt asked.
"Since the hurricane was supposed to hit the Gulf Coast, she started calling the local stations in the region. I guess I was the first to actually hear her out without hanging up on her." Andy paused. Shaking his head, he continued, "All in all, a weird thing, Matt."
As he removed his microphone and headed for his office, Matt called after him, "You got that right!"
Andy glanced at the latest radar one last time before leaving the office. All clear, nothing headed their way. He planned to go home for lunch, take a run with Waldo on the beach, and return to the office around 2:30 p.m. to prepare for the evening broadcast. As he drove home, he wondered what would make a person call up TV news stations warning of a non-existent hurricane.
As Andy pulled his black Range Rover neatly into the driveway, he heard Waldo barking ferociously in the backyard. Frowning, he rapidly exited the car and went around the small brick house to the fenced yard in the back. As he entered through the gate, Waldo jumped up to greet him, paws on Andy's shoulders, licking his face and trying to bark at the same time.
"Hey, boy, hey, settle down. What's the matter, fella?" Andy said quietly to the anxious dog. Waldo returned to all fours and ran to the back door of the house, and then turned and whined at Andy, running back and forth between Andy and the door.
"What is it, Waldo? Are you hungry? No, I can see you still have food and water out here. What is it, big guy?" Andy continued talking in a soothing voice to the dog, hoping to calm him down as he walked up the few steps to the back door and unlocked it. Waldo bounded past him, knocking Andy into the door frame as he rushed into the house and headed for Andy's bedroom.
As he followed Waldo, Andy realized he should probably show some caution--maybe someone had broken in and that was why Waldo was so upset. Glancing quickly into the living room and breakfast nook, he saw nothing was disturbed. The morning paper was still resting on the small, square dinette table. Moving slowly through the rest of the compact house, Andy could see nothing that would evoke such an anxiety reaction from the Labrador.
He had bought the house a year ago after he had adjusted to the fact that the station paid him enough to afford a minimal house payment each month. The house was plain and would be cramped for more than one person to live in, but Andy had bought it after one look at the spacious backyard. He hated leaving Waldo penned up, but couldn't leave him loose during the hours he was at the station, so a yard big enough for Waldo to run and feel some sense of freedom had been of paramount importance to Andy. Because Waldo was able to get some exercise in the backyard, he normally was not tense when Andy arrived home.
Following the dog into his bedroom, Andy worried at this change in Waldo. Old fears surfaced as he wondered if somehow someone had gotten into the yard and done something to hurt Waldo. Could this be some kind of traumatic reaction? He watched as Waldo ran around the room, stopping to bark at the bedroom closet, which Andy investigated and found the same as he had left it that morning, shoes lined up on the floor, clothing hanging neatly on hangers, nothing strange there. Yet Waldo turned to him and whined. Then the dog scrambled around him to stand in front of the desk that held Andy's computer.
"Now what?" Andy said, beginning to feel exasperated as the Labrador barked at the silent computer. "Come on, boy, what is the matter?" Andy asked, wishing for the hundredth time that dogs could talk. Clearly Waldo was trying to communicate something to him, but what?
Brushing back wavy blond hair from his forehead, Andy crossed the room to the computer, saying, "Okay, pal, we are going to figure this out. You are obviously upset." He continued turning on the computer. "See, it is just a machine...nothing to be afraid of here."
Waldo barked several times, and Andy could swear there was frustration--and maybe fear--in those barks. "So now you are afraid of the computer? Is that it?" he asked Waldo.
Waldo barked anxiously, then ran to the closet, stopped for a moment, and then ran out of the bedroom.
"What the hell..."Andy said and chased after the dog, only to find him at the front door, barking.
Andy opened the front door and Waldo shot out the opening and down the steps to come to an abrupt halt by the car door. After listening to a few more barks, Andy asked, with clear frustration in his voice, "You want to go for a drive? What? What is it, Waldo?"
As Andy crossed the postage-stamp sized front lawn to the driveway, Waldo took off running back to the house and stood at the front door yelping. Andy stopped dead and just stared from the car to the dog to the car again. Taking a deep breath, he talked softly to himself, "Okay, count to ten. He's just a dog, he can't talk, can't tell me what is wrong with him, so I have to be patient and think like a dog. He is not intentionally trying to drive me nuts...." Andy's voice trailed off as he slowly approached the waiting dog by the front door. Speaking in a gentle, calming voice, Andy said, "Now, just stay there, Waldo, just calm down, boy, that's right, just calm down..." only to have Waldo take off running into the house.
Andy blew out an exasperated breath and stomped back into the house. The dog's barking was piercing and sounded more frantic than before. "Waldo!" Andy yelled, "Waldo, you come here this minute and stop that barking!"
Waldo stopped barking and came running up to Andy, tail between his legs. Andy immediately felt chagrined since he had never yelled at the dog before. "Oh, Waldo, it's okay boy, it's okay," he said, reaching down to rub the dog's head and ears. Waldo whimpered and Andy realized he was shaking.
"You really are scared, aren't you, big fella? Well, it will be okay. You just settle down now. How 'bout we go for a run? How would you like that?"
Hearing the soothing tones in Andy's voice, the big, black Labrador slowly wagged his tail. "Come on then, let's go to the beach," Andy said to Waldo, and the two moved outside to the car.
Highway 98 West, heading out of Florida
"I'm driving as fast as I can!" Lisanne said, irritated, as Merlin dug his claws into her thigh. The cat had been pushing her to more speed ever since she had pulled her 1965 Mustang out of the condo parking lot that morning. The trunk was stuffed with every article of clothing she owned and books and computer parts filled the backseat. They had made two stops after clearing out her bank account before leaving town--one to the gas station to fill up the car and buy extra oil. The next stop had been at the local computer store to buy a top of the line laptop computer with a power adapter that could be plugged into the car's lighter along with extra batteries for the computer. Lisanne had made the salesman's day when she requested that all kinds of expensive software be loaded onto the extra-large hard drive right there in the store. Once she pulled out a wad of cash from her black jeans pockets and leaned over the salesman's desk so that her violet-toned silk blouse fell open just so, he hadn't even minded that she'd brought a cat into the store.
"So how does it feel to own your very own computer, Merlin?" she asked as rain pelted the windshield. His only answer was to press his claws a little deeper into the denim fabric covering her legs. "Ouch! Enough already, I get it. It's starting to rain--doesn't necessarily mean anything, you know. Even if the wind is picking up. And we are already seventy miles inland so even if it does hit, we should be okay."
Lisanne slowed and congratulated herself again for thinking to buy a radar detector on her way out of the electronics store. Sure enough, a state trooper sat hidden behind the curve of the two-lane highway, tucked into the pine trees that lined the asphalt cutting through the lowlands of south Alabama.
Suddenly, a curtain of water fell in front of the car, obscuring Lisanne's vision of the road. Slowing, she drove cautiously thro
ugh the worst downpour she had ever seen. The windshield wipers couldn't begin to keep up with the deluge, and she pulled the car off the road onto the shoulder and stopped. Merlin meowed.
"Look, you can see as well as I can--probably better--and there is no way we can keep going. This will blow over soon. Don't worry. Just a little rain is all. That's all. And I'm babbling," Lisanne said shakily.
As the window fogged up, Lisanne peered out and then gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white. Softly, without turning away from the window, she said to Merlin, "Okay, pal, now don't get alarmed or anything, but you need to jump up onto the dashboard and look out here...cause I don't know if I'm hallucinating or if what I'm seeing is real. And if it is, I don't know what it means."
Merlin cocked his head at Lisanne and wondered at the fearful undercurrent in her soft tones. He leapt to the dash and glanced out the window and then found his eyes riveted to the road--the moving road.
"I know it's just my imagination, right?" Lisanne asked, turning to Merlin, who shook his head several times definitively. "But what could cause that? We aren't having an earthquake...it's just raining out there...but the road, the road looks like it is alive!"
All at once Merlin knew, and the fur stood up on his back as he growled menacingly. The sky had grown darker as the rain continued to douse the road, and as Lisanne flicked on the headlights, her eyes opened wide in fright at what they revealed. Lisanne screamed.
The lights illuminated a twisting mass of snakes, slithering across black pavement as they crept out from the trees. Lisanne sat paralyzed, watching more snakes enter her line of vision, surrounding the car. Her mind switched on again as she felt Merlin's teeth gently pulling her hand off the steering wheel. She stared at him blankly until realization hit and she said, "Run. We have to run. Get out of here. Fast. How? Turn on the car. Right. Turn the key." She was afraid to move an inch. She had the awful feeling that the snakes were coming to get her, that they could get into the car. Get into the car. Snakes in the car. Snakes.
Savagely twisting the key in the ignition, the car sputtered and then purred to life. Gunning the engine, no don't flood it, whatever you do don't flood the engine, she pressed the gas pedal as she put the car in gear. The car moved slowly and then picked up speed, they're rolling over them, oh yuck, she bet you could hear squishing sounds if the wind and rain weren't so loud. And when had that happened? When did it get so loud outside? Doesn't matter, just keep going, keep moving, faster now, they're everywhere! Don't panic. Too late, already panicking. Just keep the car moving. It does look like the road is moving. Why couldn't it just be that? She hated snakes. She really, really, really, absolutely, positively hated snakes. Where are they all coming from? Where?
As Merlin meowed at her, Lisanne realized she'd been talking out loud--or rather, screaming out loud. She took a deep breath and said in a slightly lower tone of voice, "Sorry, pal, did I just blow out your eardrums?"
Merlin rubbed his head against her elbow as he sat close to her. Thank goodness she seemed to be settling down. He'd thought she was going to lose it there, run off the road or something. Not a good idea right now. Coral snakes and rattlesnakes were common in this part of the country and a bite from a coral snake could kill you.
"Wonder why they came out of the trees like that? The rain? Who knows, who cares, at least we are moving now getting out of this place."
Lisanne's body stiffened next to him as she said in a high-pitched voice, "You don't think any of them got in the car, do you, Merlin? They couldn't have, right? No, they couldn't, they can't have, oh, my god, if there are any snakes in this car, I really will just die, Merlin, are they in the car?" Her sputtering ended in a screech.
Merlin searched the inside of the car and didn't find any snakes. He had no idea if they could have gotten into the car, in the engine, or the trunk, but there didn't appear to be any actually in the interior of the car. He jumped back into the front seat and curled up on Lisanne's lap, purring loudly to let her know all was well, for now anyway.
SNN Headquarters, Atlanta Georgia
Phoebe stared at the pink message pad, drumming perfectly shaped, oval-tipped nails on her desk, and debated once again whether she should relay this name and number to Maria. Being Maria's secretary meant she had to sift through and filter the messages that came in for her boss, or Maria would spend all her time returning calls. And this one was a doozy. A lawyer who predicted disasters. Yeah, right, thought Phoebe. Except...except the woman had sounded so desperate and so certain. That was it, Phoebe decided. It was the certainty in Margaret Larson's voice as she presented her case. The woman seemed absolutely convinced that a massive hurricane "unlike anything seen in this century" would hit the Gulf coast soon. After checking with the weather people, Phoebe was convinced the woman was a nut job because the weather guys had actually laughed and showed her all the reasons a hurricane was not forming in the Gulf. So why couldn't she just toss the message into the trash?
Phoebe was the perfect secretary. Everyone said so. Except the psychiatrist she saw only once, who told her she was obsessive-compulsive. He suggested medication. After hearing that she could end up being just like normal people, Phoebe declined, knowing that her life required a certain attention to detail, as did her job. Yet, it bothered her to have to check the stove to see whether it was off at least fifteen times every night only to discover each and every time that it was indeed off. Yes, it was a real drag to have to get up earlier just so she could go back home, after leaving for work, to check whether or not the front door to her apartment was really locked. She tried to just leave once and not return, but the doubt was always there. Did she actually lock the door? Or did she only think about locking it? The only way to be absolutely sure was to check the door. And it was, of course, locked. But by the time she turned the first corner, a block from her apartment, the fear started. Maybe that time she had unlocked it while checking and then forgot to lock it again. And so checking the door was gradually added to her list of daily rituals. Each morning was touched by twinges of panic on the edges.
But her compulsions also meant she was great at organizing Maria's work life. It meant that Maria knew Phoebe would check for every last mistake in a piece of copy or would spend days, if necessary, tracking down a detail Maria needed for research on a story. Why, Phoebe had wondered, would she want to be like normal people anyway? They were the crazy ones, always forgetting appointments, never getting anywhere on time, living utterly sloppy lives. Ugh.
Now, however, her obsessiveness also meant that this message was not being thrown away. Phoebe couldn't help feeling that the message should be given to Maria. She ran her long, thin fingers through her straight, ash-brown hair. Five times over the top of her sleek head. After all, Phoebe rationalized to herself, Maria didn't have to go there and wait for a non-existent hurricane. The Larson woman said it would happen by tomorrow. But what if it wasn't non-existent? That was the question. It could hit. It might. The woman had sounded so certain. Trembling hands smoothed her straight black cotton skirt over her bony knees. Ten times, perfectly smooth. Of course, it was probably all a crock. A silly call from a strange woman. Nothing to worry about. Although, it might be true. And how far were Atlanta and her immaculately clean apartment from the Gulf, anyway? If the hurricane did hit...oh, my God, thought Phoebe, sharpening already sharp pencils, what a mess that would be. Hurricanes were very messy. Perhaps she should call Maria right this minute. Not that Maria could stop it, but then Maria could check out this lawyer-psychic. If there was no hurricane, then she and Maria could have a good laugh--and God knows Maria could sure use a laugh, thought Phoebe. She picked up the phone to call Maria in Allenville. She picked it up and put it down eight times. She was surprised when she could dial it on the ninth try--usually she was locked into multiples of five. Interesting.
Interstate 10, West of Biloxi, Mississippi
Andy Jordan drove at a steady sixty miles an hour, his thoughts on Waldo. Even
though the Labrador was sitting in the front seat occasionally staring out the passenger window, Andy could tell the dog was not doing well. Every few minutes he made whimpering sounds and shifted his position in the seat. Maybe, Andy thought, he should be on his way to the vet instead of heading toward Gulfport. Still, a drive in the car tended to calm Waldo down in normal circumstances, so Andy continued down I-10. They were only five minutes away from the outskirts of Gulfport now. He'd wait to decide what to do till then.
Suddenly Waldo began barking. A constant yelping bark as he tried to stand in the car's seat. Andy was so startled he swerved slightly, then gripped the wheel harder and looked for an exit.
"Easy, boy!" he said to Waldo. "Calm down, it's okay, you're okay, boy. Everything's okay, Waldo," repeating these phrases like a mantra. The dog continued barking as the car approached an interchange of highways, where I-10 intersected Highway 49, which headed north. As Andy pulled into the left lane to pass the interchange, Waldo barked even louder. Andy decided he couldn't wait to find an exit and pulled back into the right lane, intending to pull off the road. Waldo fell silent.
Andy was almost unnerved by the sudden cessation of barking and stared at the dog in bewilderment.
"What the hell?" he said. "Have you gone nuts? I mean I'm glad you stopped barking, but what is going on?" After a half mile of quiet, Andy pulled into the left lane again to avoid entering the upcoming exit which led to Highway 49. Waldo rose up and put his paws on the dash and began barking furiously. Swerving back into the right lane, Andy was stunned as Waldo immediately shut up and sat back down in the passenger seat.
As they approached the exit for Hattiesburg, Andy tried once more to change lanes and was witness to the same strange behavior. "Are you trying to get me to Hattiesburg, Waldo?" Andy asked the dog, his tones rising in confusion. Waldo slowly turned his big black head to stare directly into Andy's blue-gray eyes. Then he barked. Once.
Andy brought his gaze back to the road, stared at the signs for the highway, and pointed the car up the exit that led to Hattiesburg. "I'm probably nuts, in fact, I know I'm nuts," he said aloud, shaking his head. "This is crazy--the things I do for you, Waldo! We'll stop ahead and I'll call the station to get someone to fill in for me."