Joshua's Mission Read online

  He’d grown used to having a snack before bed, and he was quite willing to fetch it himself. When he’d settled again on the couch, his mother returned to her interrogation.

  “You really have no idea where he is? I know he snuck out this morning just after four.”

  Joshua stuffed an oatmeal cookie into his mouth.

  “I heard the stair squeak. You boys never remember that. Your dat offered to fix it once, but I told him it was like an early warning system.” She knitted another row of the blanket she was working on, and then added, “Alton worries me. He thinks he’s grown, but he still acts like a child.”

  “No need to worry, Abigail.” Daniel didn’t look up as he spoke. “He’s a grown man and is finding his place in the world.”

  “Does his place in the world have to include smoking those nasty cigarettes?”

  “I remember you smoking a few yourself when we were enjoying our rumpsringa.”

  Abigail knitted even faster. “We didn’t know how bad they were for your health. No one knew then. We thought it was a harmless thing, and it made us feel so much older—”

  “Alton is a smart young man. He’ll figure it out.”

  “So you say.” She turned her attention back to Joshua, who was still trying to process that his parents had once smoked. “I wouldn’t worry so if it were a Sunday evening.”

  “You know about the overnights?”

  Abigail dropped the knitting on her lap and reached for her glass of milk. “Of course we do. Everyone knows.”

  Joshua shrugged. He’d found the entire rumspringa scene lame and couldn’t understand his brother’s fascination with it.

  “It’s not a Sunday, though. There’s too much work to do for youngies to take off whenever they choose. I can’t understand what he was thinking or where he might have gone.”

  “He was on his phone yesterday, that’s all I know.” When she continued staring at him, he added, “Maybe he went to see a girl in Clarita.”

  “Lord have mercy on my soul.” Abigail resumed her knitting. She didn’t bring the subject up again until Joshua said good night and headed for the stairs.

  “Maybe this girl will have a schweschder, Joshua. None of the girls here seem to catch your fancy.”

  It was an old refrain she returned to time and again.

  “Good night, Mamm.”

  “Smile at me all you want. Youth doesn’t last forever, and you’re no spring chicken.”

  Which was how he fell asleep, picturing himself, his brother, and even his sisters as a brood of chicks gathered under their mother’s wing.

  CHAPTER 6

  Charlie was once again walking Quitz down the beach when he noticed a group of people a few yards ahead. Something was wrong there. No one was laughing. No one played in the sand or looked toward the waves. It was as if they were huddled around something.

  “We better check it out,” he murmured to Quitz.

  By the time he reached them, the size of the group had grown. He heard the announcer’s voice before he saw the radio.

  “Again, Orion is strengthening in the gulf’s warm coastal waters. Data from hurricane hunters indicate that the pressure continues to drop even as the storm has turned toward the barrier islands of Matagorda, San José, Mustang, and Padre. The entire southern coastal region of Texas is now in the bull’s-eye.”

  Everyone started talking at once, and Charlie missed what the announcer said next, but then the beep, beep, beep started and a prerecorded voice announced, “This is an emergency announcement from the National Weather Service. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill. At sixteen minutes past seven, Central Standard Time, the national weather service determined that Hurricane Orion had turned and is now headed toward the Texas coast. If you are in the path of this storm, it is critical that you leave the area. Projections indicate Orion will hit land within the next twenty-four to thirty hours. Mandatory evacuations have been ordered for all of the barrier islands as well as the towns of Port Lavaca, Rockport, Aransas Pass, and Corpus Christi. If you are in the affected area… ”

  Charlie never heard the rest. Everyone gathered around the young man holding the radio started talking at once. Overall they appeared to remain calm. Some of the teenaged boys were laughing and talking about the waves, but it seemed like bravado on their part. Charlie had worked with young adults long enough to tell the difference between fear and amusement. Fear had a smell to it, and folks’ eyes often told a story unlike the one professed by their words. He sensed some real anxiety in the people gathered around the radio.

  He clipped Quitz’s leash to her collar and hurried toward his home, but when he reached there he didn’t go inside. Instead, he pulled out his keys, climbed into his truck, and headed into town. Alice would have heard by now, and he didn’t want her to be afraid.

  While he was driving toward her home, he turned on the radio long enough to find out that stage one evacuation was to begin immediately. Already he could see RVs pulling out onto Highway 361. Larger rigs were headed toward the JFK Causeway Bridge. Smaller campers would take the ferry across and were traveling in the opposite direction. The traffic was still relatively light, but Charlie guessed that within a few hours that wouldn’t be the case.

  When he pulled up in front of Alice’s house, all of the lights were on—in fact, all of the lights seemed to be on in all of the houses. The neighborhood was one of Port A’s poorer areas. Housing for the blue-collar class had been a problem on the island for years. There were the luxury condos and then there were homes that had been built fifty years ago and were now in various stages of disrepair. The real estate crash of 1983 had stopped most construction until recently, when the cost for new homes had skyrocketed from two dollars a square foot to two hundred.

  The rising cost had attracted more tourists and oil-rich folks who wanted a place on the beach. In the last few years, a record two hundred to three hundred home and commercial permits were being issued, but they weren’t for two-thousand-foot homes. They were for the six- to ten-thousand-foot monstrosities on Charlie’s beach. Folks like Alice had two options: Buy or rent an older home on the island or live on the mainland and commute.

  Alice opened the door as soon as he knocked.

  “Did you hear?” Her hand fluttered toward the television. “They’re saying Orion will hit Port A, and now there’s a mandatory evacuation. I’m trying to pack—”

  “Slow down, Alice.”

  “But—”

  “I could use a cup of coffee. Do you have any decaf in the house?”

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  She turned toward the kitchen and then seemed at a loss over what to do. C.J. and Shelley were sitting on the couch, staring at the television. Shelley clutched her tattered bear with one hand, and C.J. held the television remote.

  “Could you mute that, son? I doubt they’re going to say anything new.”

  “Sure, Charlie.”

  As Alice set the coffee to brew, her movements became calmer, her hands stopped shaking, and she pulled in a deep breath. By the time she’d filled both of their mugs, the panic had left her eyes. “Guess I let that announcer spook me.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed.” Charlie reached for the sugar bowl and added a spoonful to his coffee. Normally he liked it black, but he had a feeling he’d need the extra fuel tonight. “It’s your first hurricane. It’s normal to be frightened.”

  “I’m scared too, Charlie.” Shelley scooted into the chair beside him.

  “Well, don’t be. We have a plan, remember?”

  “The evacuation plan. You made us a folder.” C.J. stood in the doorway.

  “Can you fetch it for us?” Charlie asked.

  The boy nodded and darted back into the living room.

  “We keep it beside the television. I pick the thing up at least once a week to dust around it, but did I remember to pull it out when I needed it?”

  “It’s only been thirty minutes, Alice. You would have remembered the
folder.”

  Quitz collapsed on the floor beside Charlie’s chair. Shelley flopped down next to the Labrador, laying her head on the dog’s chest and playing with her floppy ears.

  “Here it is, Charlie.” C.J. came into the room, dropping the red folder on the kitchen table. “Nana, can I have something to eat? I know it’s late, but all this drama is making me hungry.”

  “We could all use something. Bring the Tupperware container of cookies over here and get yourself a glass of milk.”

  Shelley claimed she wasn’t hungry. Charlie noticed her yawn and rub her eyes. She’d be asleep before they finished their first cup of coffee.

  “Stage one began tonight.” Charlie opened the folder and pulled out the Port Aransas evacuation plan. “I passed some of the RV folk on my way here. They’re already moving off the island.”

  Alice was reading the page upside down. “Stage two—that’s non-residents and tourists.”

  “Right. Because it’s October, we have fewer tourists on the island, and most of them come on weekends.”

  “The thing across the bottom of the television screen said that stage two would begin at first light.” C.J. reached for a chocolate chip cookie.

  It did Charlie’s heart good to see the boy handling the emergency so well, but then C.J. was mature for his age.

  “Did it mention stage three?” Alice asked.

  “No, but I can go and watch. Do you care if I take this in there?” He held up his glass of milk and a napkin with four cookies stacked on it. “I’m not supposed to eat in the living room, but—”

  “We’ll make an exception this once,” Alice said. “But only during hurricane evacuations.”

  C.J. smiled at her before heading into the living room.

  Charlie looked down to see Shelley asleep. “I’ll take this one to her room, and then we can go over your plans.”

  By the time he’d tucked her in, Alice was already pulling out her emergency bags and ticking items off the list.

  “Is your car full of gas?” he asked.

  “Yes. I filled it this morning.” Alice glanced up and smiled at him. “You taught me well, Charlie. When there’s even a chance of a storm—”

  “Keep the tank topped off.” He sipped his coffee, calculating the miles and the extra hours she would spend on the road due to traffic and detours. “All right. That will be enough to get you a safe distance inland.”

  “I’m worried about getting caught up in one of those infamous evacuation traffic jams. I’d hate to run out of gas on the highway.”

  “I brought an extra five gallons of gas. You can carry that with you, but I don’t think you’ll have a problem. Evacuation plans have improved dramatically over the last few years.”

  “I remember watching the news and seeing miles of stopped vehicles trying to evacuate from the Houston area… ”

  “Houston has a population of well over five million. The entire Corpus area is half a million.”

  “Are they evacuating Houston too?” C.J. asked.

  Charlie hadn’t heard him return. He was standing in the doorway, eating a cookie and wearing a milk mustache.

  “From what I heard on the radio, they’re under voluntary evacuation. The most southerly computer model predictions put Orion coming ashore here.”

  He touched the map at the very southern tip of Texas, practically on top of Matamoros, “And the northern point of the zone is here.” He touched Port Lavaca.

  “We’re in the middle,” Alice said.

  “Which is why our evacuation is mandatory. Port A will sustain a hit. The question is when and how big the hurricane will be at that point.”

  “The news guy says that resident evacuation will begin at ten a.m.”

  “Thank you, C.J.”

  “Maybe you should get to bed, honey. We’re going to be up early in the morning.”

  The boy shrugged and walked off to his bedroom.

  “They’ll be fine, Alice. Now, let’s go through this list.”

  They spent the next hour deciding what she should take and making a schedule for the morning. She needed to turn off her electricity, gas, and water at the street, but he didn’t want her to do so until the last minute.

  “I’ll be here early to board up your windows.”

  “I don’t even know where to go, Charlie. Do I just drive north and look for a hotel?”

  He mentally thumped himself on the forehead. “I should have told you earlier. I called some friends in Bandera. They’re happy to have you and the kids.”

  “I couldn’t… ”

  “The hotels are going to be full, and you don’t want to go to a public shelter if you don’t have to. Shelley and C.J. will be better off staying in someone’s home, and it’s best to save the evacuation space for someone who needs it.”

  “You’ll come too?”

  “I will. I may be a couple of hours behind you, but I’ll be there.” He waited until she nodded before he continued. “The roads will be crowded, but the state will have set up contraflow lanes all the way up 37 to San Antonio.”

  “All lanes will go north?”

  “Correct. Both sides of the freeway. You’re not going into San Antonio, though. I want you to get off here and take 173 to Bandera.”

  “Looks like the middle of nowhere.”

  “Exactly. Bill and Ann Rogers will meet you downtown at the Episcopal church’s parking lot.” He pulled a scrap of paper from his shirt pocket. “Here’s their phone number. Call them when you take the turnoff onto 173.”

  Alice had tears in her eyes when she glanced at him and nodded. He thought it was fear, maybe adrenaline, but when they reached the front door she put her hand on his arm. “Charlie, I don’t have flood insurance on this place.”

  “Yes, you do. We took it out last year—”

  “I know what we did, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t afford the payment when they cut my hours at the diner this fall. I’ve only missed two, maybe three payments.” She pressed her fingertips to her lips. “I had to stop paying something, and there was nothing else… ”

  When her tears began to fall, he pulled her into a hug. “We’ll think of something, Alice. Let’s not worry about rebuilding your house while it’s still standing.”

  She nodded and took a step back.

  Quitz followed Charlie out the door. Alice went back inside to begin packing. Before climbing into his truck, Charlie glanced up at the sky. A million points of light and a quarter moon shone down on them. There wasn’t a cloud in the great expanse of sky that he could see—only starlight and moonlight. But he knew, he could actually feel, Orion barreling toward them. The only question was how much destruction he would unleash on the town and the people he loved.

  CHAPTER 7

  Charlie was amazed at how quickly a situation could deteriorate. The night before he’d stayed up making his own lists and boarding over his windows, though doing so in the dark was no easy matter. There was now a seventy percent chance that Orion would hit Mustang Island as a Category 4 or even possibly a Category 5 hurricane.

  “What does Cat 4 mean, Charlie?” Shelley walked with him as he unloaded the plywood he’d brought over from his place. Stores always ran out of plywood—he’d learned that when he first came to the island. He kept a supply at his house and rarely had to replace it. Usually it was only a matter of refastening it over his windows, and then pulling it back down when the storm never materialized. Two years ago, he’d purchased extra, knowing that Alice would need help should an evacuation be ordered.

  Quitz walked between them, nose to the ground, sniffing for any sign of who had walked there before them. She seemed blissfully oblivious to the worries of men and girls.

  “Well, now. It means that stuff will blow over.”

  “Blow over?” Shelley wore her hair in two pigtails, high if she was in a bright and happy mood and low if she was feeling worried. Today, the pigtails covered her ears and were pulled to the front. They sported bright purple ribbons t
hat Alice had probably suggested to match her blouse. Charlie could tell from the way she worried her top lip that Shelley was afraid about what might happen next.

  He carried the boards to the front porch of Alice’s house, leaned them against the porch railing, and then he sat down. When he did, Shelley sat beside him, swinging her feet because they didn’t come close to touching the ground.

  “Hurricanes bring a lot of rain and a lot of wind. That’s why we put the plywood over the windows. It protects the glass from stuff that is flying around. It keeps the windows from breaking.”

  “Mrs. Bradford always carries around a coffee cup with her, even when we’re on the playground. The boys were playing ball and one ran into her.” Shelley scrunched up her face. “It was terrible. The coffee cup busted and there were pieces of it everywhere. Then Stanley—he’s the boy who broke it—cut his finger when he tried to help pick the pieces up.”

  “Things like that happen sometimes.”

  “He had to go to the nurse and get a Band-Aid. And Mrs. Bradford had to get a new mug. Now it’s plastic.”

  “Sounds like a good solution.”

  Shelley reached up and pulled her pony tails tighter within their holder.

  “What if our house blows over?” Instead of looking at him, she reached out and ran her hand gently over Quitz’s head.

  Quitz closed her eyes, basking in Shelley’s affection. The dog was dedicated to Charlie, but she would protect Alice’s two grandkids from anything that threatened them. She seemed to know that they needed an extra player in their court.

  “Would our house break if Orion knocks it over?”

  “Hopefully that won’t happen, Shelley. But it’s why we’re all going to stay a few days on the mainland.”

  “The evac… umm, evaculation.”

  “Exactly, evacuation. We go inland because it will be safer there.”

  “But it probably won’t happen. Our house won’t… ” She wiggled her head back and forth. “It won’t just fall over.”