And so her knees folded again, and the world went dark.
3
Lenora woke inside city hall, its large glass windows punched all the way through so the outside smells leaked in freely. Sulfur, smoke, what she thought might be burning flesh. Lenora pinched her nose, but breathing through her mouth was not much better. Now she could imagine she tasted it.
Hushed voices hovered around the hall, and when Lenora propped herself on her elbow, she could see the bodies of the injured lying on the floor in various positions. Some had lost legs, some wore bandages on their heads, one man had dressings around his eyes. A woman with a twisted leg lay near him.
Lenora’s head felt hazy.
“We’ll transfer the most critical to John Sealy Hospital in Galveston,” said a voice near her. Lenora glanced in its direction and saw a man with a shock of white hair on the top of his head bending over a woman with a bandage across her chest. A tall, slim woman with short, curly brown hair stood watching him. She had a clipboard and a pencil. “And the others we’ll take in to Houston. The least critical we can keep here for a time.”
“What about the children with no family left?” said the woman.
The man rocked back on his heels and sighed. “I don’t know yet, Ingrid,” he said. And then again, softer: “I don’t know.” His eyes looked weary. He stood up. “The injured are still trickling in.” He looked toward the front doors, where a man was hobbling through. He moved to meet him.
Lenora scanned the hall. Mother and Father must be here. And Rory, John, and Charles. She stood up quickly, the world spinning for a moment before righting again, if a little tilted. She blinked. She did not see anyone in the immediate area who resembled Mother or Father, but this was a large room. She would search.
And she did, again and again and again, but she did not find any of her family. She saw some of her fellow students, but she did not stop to talk, so heavy were her grief and fear.
The woman who had spoken with the white-haired man—Ingrid—stopped her on her fifth round through the hall. “Are you looking for someone?” she asked.
“My parents. They must be here.” Lenora’s voice shook.
“What is your last name?”
“Cole,” Lenora said. “They are John and Agnes Cole.”
“You are Lenora,” Ingrid said. It was not a question. Ingrid eyed her before turning to the clipboard she held in her hands, which Lenora saw contained a handwritten list of names. Ingrid flipped through the pages, and then she looked at Lenora with sad earth-colored eyes. “There is no John or Agnes Cole on my list. But we have another makeshift infirmary inside the chamber of commerce. Perhaps they are there. Would you like to inquire?” Ingrid smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
“I can go there myself,” Lenora said, hope warming her chest. Yes. They would be there. Everyone she loved.
Ingrid placed a hand on Lenora’s arm, which stopped Lenora from turning. “We cannot let our patients leave the building,” she said. Ingrid’s voice was so apologetic Lenora had to blink away her blurred vision. It was not that she was unaccustomed to kindness; it was that Ingrid’s apology made her words so definitive. Lenora had always followed the rules. And now she knew that leaving the building was against the rules.
“But I am not injured.” Still, she would try. Perhaps the rules could be bent, rather than broken.
Ingrid gave a half shrug and pointed to a line on the paper that Lenora could not read. “You were found unconscious,” she said. Lenora shook her head. So? Ingrid bit her lip and said, “Dr. Sparks would like all patients to remain in one place. It’s better for the record keeping.” She smiled, her face brightening, if only a little. “Rescue workers are combing the area for all survivors. They bring them here and to the chamber of commerce, where their names are recorded and their family members are notified.” She cleared her throat. “It’s much too dangerous for anyone else to be out.”
Lenora tried to swallow the knot in her throat. So the rules were in place for a reason, a reason that made sense. She said, “I just want to see my family. Make sure they’re safe.”
Ingrid’s eyes softened. “I understand,” she said. “It’s well-known that we are running an infirmary here and at the chamber. That’s why it’s imperative that you remain in one place, in case your parents are looking for you, too.” She nodded, as though agreeing with herself. “Do you understand?”
Lenora nodded.
“I will inquire right away,” Ingrid said.
Lenora sat down in a corner to wait. Her parents would come. She just had to be patient.
4
The sky outside darkened as night fell over the town, and still Ingrid did not return. Lenora asked Dr. Sparks about her absence. He said Ingrid had likely gotten recruited to care for the patients inside the chamber, but she would return. She was needed here.
Lenora watched two students from Danforth Elementary reunite with their parents, and envy burned in her chest. She saw four students crumple when they were told their parents had died, and the fear frosted her throat.
Which would it be for her?
What happened to the students whose parents died? Lenora did not have any other family, except for her father’s mad brother, who lived in Nacogdoches, too far away from Texas City. He had been estranged from the family for years. She didn’t count him among her family. Father hadn’t.
They had to be alive. She could not be alone—it would be unbearable. Mother and Father had teased her about her distaste for solitude and silence; they said it’s why she was born third in a line of four children.
At last Ingrid returned. She had not found Lenora’s family. “It might be time to contact other family members.” Ingrid’s voice was gentle, soothing. Lenora closed her eyes.
“I could try my house,” she said, without looking at Ingrid.
Ingrid was silent for so long that Lenora opened her eyes again. “You think they would remain in their house while the town burned and their daughter was still missing?”
Lenora knew it was not a question that required an answer. She said, “I do not have any other family.” It was difficult wedging the words around the blockage in her throat, but she did it.
A shadow crossed Ingrid’s face.
“What happens to children like me?” Lenora said.
But Ingrid only pressed her lips together and patted Lenora’s arm. She said nothing. She crossed the room to Dr. Sparks and whispered something in his ear. He looked in Lenora’s direction and shuffled over with slumping shoulders. He looked so exhausted, but he had bright, kind sapphire eyes.
He knelt next to her. “Ingrid tells me you have been unable to locate your parents,” he said.
“I’m sure they’re coming. I could search my house, if you would permit me to leave.” Lenora looked toward the entrance to city hall, felt the longing gnaw on her stomach.
“Rescue workers are searching every house that’s still standing,” Dr. Sparks said. “And even the rubble of those that aren’t.” He looked troubled.
“Have they searched mine?”
Dr. Sparks did not answer. Instead he said, “Your father was the fire chief.” He seemed sure of his statement, but Lenora nodded anyway. He sighed, looked up at the ceiling, then back down at Lenora. “All members of the fire department were down at the docks when it exploded.” He seemed to be saying more between the lines of his words.
Black spots grew and twirled in front of Lenora’s eyes. A cry sounded from the back of her throat, wounded and raw.
Father.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Sparks said. “This is the worst tragedy in Texas history.”
“He’ll come,” Lenora said in a small voice. She did not believe it, and this made her angry. Her words gathered strength. “He’s a hero.”
Dr. Sparks didn’t say anything. He only patted her shoulder.
She would know if they had died, wouldn’t she? She would be able to feel it. Someone had to be alive. Someone had to be wi
th her, keep her company. Someone had to fight with her and steal her favorite clothes and annoy her when she sat at the loud and riotous supper table.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Sparks said again. Lenora wiped her cheeks. “I will notify your uncle.”
“My uncle?” Lenora said. She didn’t know that anyone in Texas City knew about Uncle Richard.
“I knew your uncle at the university. We were both science men. Had something in common.” Dr. Sparks smiled. “He’s a good man.”
Lenora shook her head. No. She could not live with an uncle she didn’t know. But what choice did she have?
“Please, let me go look for them.” Her throat felt dry, but her will was intact. If he didn’t permit it, she would search anyway. She would break the rules this time. They were ridiculous rules, and anger made her brave.
Dr. Sparks shook his head. “The streets are unstable,” he said. “Buildings are still crumbling, electrical lines are still sparking, bodies are . . .” He didn’t finish, perhaps remembering he was speaking to a child. She knew what he would have said. She had seen them. She would never forget them.
She closed her eyes, opened them again.
“We are doing everything we can,” Dr. Sparks said.
“Let me stay here, then,” Lenora said. “I’ll wait for them.”
“Your uncle’s house is the best place you can be. We don’t have enough supplies to care for you here.” He looked out toward the harbor. “And who knows if there will be another explosion.”
Lenora swallowed hard. She said, “Will I see them again?”
Dr. Sparks did not meet her eyes. “If your family members are among the unconscious injured whose names we have not yet collected, they will find you more easily at your uncle’s house.”
And that was that. His knees cracked on his way up, and Lenora watched him walk away.
She examined her brand-new birthday dress. The hem was ripped in places. Dirt and grime ringed the collar. Black dust covered her beautiful shoes.
Lenora curled up into a tight ball and tried her best not to cry.
5
The next day, a tall, thin, strange-looking man walked through the doors of city hall. In fact, he looked so strange that Lenora could not help but stare. Silver streaks shot through the dark brown parts of his hair. It was cut somewhat short, but it stood out in every direction as though it had not seen a comb in many, many days. He wore a red velvet suit jacket with a crisp white shirt poking out from a vest that matched the color of his hair. Sticking out from the pocket of the strange, colorful jacket was a white kerchief, along with a golden chain. His mud-colored pants were pressed and perfect, and his golden-brown shoes had not a speck of dust or grime on them, nor were there any scratches. He looked like one of the wealthy business owners in town, but Lenora had never seen him before.
He dragged his left leg behind him slightly, and the cane in his right hand tapped the ground in a steady rhythm. Clunk, slide. Clunk, slide. Clunk, slide. The cadence of his walk filled the hall, as people watched him make his way to nowhere in particular. It seemed he simply needed to keep moving.
Lenora’s eyes caught on the cane, which was as strange-looking as the man. The end near the man’s hand resembled Father’s old rifle butt, a curved shining brown, but the other end was a long cylindrical silver barrel that widened into what looked like the broadest part of a funnel.
The man stopped in the center of the hall and pulled something out of his jacket pocket. It was a pocket watch, attached to the golden chain.
Dr. Sparks moved swiftly to his side and held out his hand, which the man did not take at first but studied, as though confused for a breath. When he shook Dr. Sparks’s hand, he did not smile.
Lenora knew he was her uncle. She could see the resemblance now—in his face, but that was all.
Her stomach clenched tight.
Dr. Sparks and Uncle Richard—if her guess was correct—moved in her direction. Uncle Richard did not look very happy. His dark eyebrows hung low over his dark eyes, which held an unreadable emotion—annoyance? Impatience? Surprise, maybe?
Dr. Sparks put a hand on her shoulder and said, “Lenora, your uncle has come to take you home.”
“Home?” The word felt bitter in her mouth.
The light in Dr. Sparks’s eyes flickered. “I am sorry,” he said. “I only meant . . .” He looked at Uncle Richard for help, but Uncle Richard was staring at her.
“You look like your father,” he said. He had a halting, abrupt way of speaking, and his voice was a touch too loud.
Lenora rubbed her chest. Dr. Sparks cleared his throat. “You will accompany your uncle to his home.”
“Only until Mother and Father are well,” Lenora said. Dr. Sparks tilted his head and studied her. He opened his mouth, but she would not let him say it. “They will come fetch me as soon as they’re able.” She leveled her gaze at Uncle Richard.
His lips turned down a little, but his expression was otherwise unchanged. “Follow me, please,” was all he said, and he spun on his heel.
“Goodbye, Lenora,” Dr. Sparks said.
Lenora said nothing. She was still rather angry that they would not let her stay, at least until she knew that someone in her family was still alive. She knew Mother would say she was being rude, not answering, but in this moment, she didn’t care.
She followed the sliding step of Uncle Richard toward the blasted-out doors of city hall.
“Mother and Father will come for me,” she could not help saying to Uncle Richard’s back. “I will only be with you for a short time.”
Uncle Richard did not bother to reply, and this fueled her anger. It licked her throat, her eyes, her chest, and wandered back up into her mouth. “You’ll see,” she said.
Still, no reply.
The silence was excruciating.
6
Just outside city hall was an unusual car. It was not black or red or blue or any of the colors Lenora would see on the cars cruising the main streets of Texas City on Friday nights; it was, instead, a dull copper, as though all the paint had been stripped off. The wheels looked like a cross between those used on locomotives and those used on cars. There were eight of them on one side and, she assumed, eight on the other.
It was the oddest thing she had ever seen. Had she stepped back in time or forward into the future? Her head spun.
Perhaps she was dreaming.
Something on the ground beside the car caught her eye. It looked like a pearl necklace.
Her mother wore a pearl necklace.
Lenora did not think. She lunged for the string of beads. It was covered in a black layer of dust, but when she wiped off one pearl, she could tell it was the same pale pink color as those on her mother’s necklace. She looked around, searching for the familiar face. Her lungs blazed.
Uncle Richard cleared his throat, and Lenora met his eye. She stuffed the pearls in her pocket.
“It’s my mother’s necklace,” she said, though Uncle Richard had not asked for an explanation.
Uncle Richard raised his chin and narrowed his eyes, the only acknowledgment that he had heard her at all. “Come along,” was all he said.
He did not move toward the driver’s seat, as Lenora expected, but instead headed for the seat behind the driver’s. A stranger was suddenly at Lenora’s side, opening her door. He was a large man, tall and muscular, outfitted in a perfect black suit with a pale yellow bow tie. His black hair was slicked back from his forehead, his brown cheeks shone, and his black mustache curled at the ends. He bowed slightly and said, “Welcome, miss. It has been some time since anyone has visited the manor.”
“I’m not staying long,” Lenora said. She felt she needed to say it; this man had a joyful energy crackling around him, and she didn’t want him to think she would be at her uncle’s house for good.
She would will her parents, her brothers and sister, alive if she must. She glanced toward her house, which was just down the street. She could see the roof from h
ere.
It stood.
What if they were inside? What if they had forgotten about her or they thought she had died or they weren’t able to get out?
The thoughts whirled in Lenora’s mind until they became a whirling in her feet. But she didn’t get far. The mysterious man with her uncle wrapped her in arms that were strong and sure. He smelled like the bergamot oil her mother had rubbed on her father’s feet the nights he’d worked late inspecting newly docked ships.
The man dropped his eyes and nodded toward the car. He had opened her door.
“Wait,” Uncle Richard said when Lenora was about to slide inside. He gestured toward his side. “You sit there, behind Lloyd.”
Lenora looked at her uncle for a brief moment before doing as she was told. Lloyd stared at her uncle, too, before walking to the other side and closing the door behind Lenora. He slipped into the driver’s seat.
“I’d like to get home before dark,” Uncle Richard said.
Lloyd gave one nod in the mirror.
The car started with a thundering rumble that Lenora had not noticed when it had rolled into town. She had been too intently focused on the new injured who had come to city hall that morning. Most of them were in critical condition and had been immediately transferred to neighboring hospitals. None of them were Mother or Father or Rory or John or Charles.
The car jerked forward. “I believe you will find Stonewall Manor to your liking, miss,” Lloyd said.
Lenora did not want to be rude for the second time today, so she merely nodded. She had already told Lloyd that she would not be staying long; there was no sense in repeating this news.
Lloyd glanced behind him. “Lloyd,” Uncle Richard said. It was a warning of some kind or another. Lenora stared at her uncle. Lloyd quickly faced forward again.
Uncle Richard sat rigid in the car. One of his hands gripped the door so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. She wondered if she would ever see anything about her uncle that was not strange.
The Woods Page 2