Safe as houses, p.3
Safe As Houses, page 3
“That’s not necessary,” I said. “This is just what neighbours do.”
“Everyone is so friendly in Weston.”
“I guess we all know each other here.”
“Well, I just know that you’re a doll, Elizabeth. Oh, my husband is honking at me. I’d better go. The sooner we get going the sooner we’ll get there.”
“Drive carefully…bye.”
I put the phone down. The second it settled into the cradle it rang again, and I shrieked in surprise. David turned away from the television and gave me a look like I was a complete idiot. Which was how I felt.
“It startled me,” I tried to explain. I picked it up. “Hello?”
“Hello, Lizzy.”
It was my mother. The line was filled with static, no better than when I was talking to Mrs. McBride.
“I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“I was talking to Mrs. McBride.”
“I was hoping that you were talking to somebody. When the lines go down it gives a busy signal and I was afraid that your phone was out. There are lines down across the city.”
“Mrs. McBride told me. They’re running a bit late.”
She sighed. “I was hoping they’d be there soon.”
“They left early but she said the roads are terrible, traffic lights aren’t working, power lines are down, roads are flooded.”
“Your father just called and said the same thing,” she told me. “He’s out with his tow truck. There are stalled cars all over the city. He’s even had to fish a car out of a flooded underpass. He told me the man was sitting on the roof of his car, like it was a little island.”
That struck me as funny and I laughed. My mother chuckled at the other end of the line.
“Did Mrs. McBride say how long they thought they might be?” my mother asked.
“They didn’t know, but they weren’t even close. They said they’d try to get here as soon as possible. I’m going to fix supper for the children.”
“That’s a good idea. Now, Lizzy, this is important. When they do arrive home, under no circumstances are you to try to use the footbridge to come home on.”
“Mr. McBride is going to drive me.”
“It might be better if your father came and got you in the truck. Raymore Drive must be a canal by now. Unless you hear differently from me, you should expect him to come and get you around nine.”
“But that’s not for over three hours!” It already seemed like I’d been here too long.
“It might take them that long to get home. Call when they get there, okay? If your father is free sooner he’ll come and wait with you until the McBrides arrive.”
“Okay, thanks, that would be good.”
“You’ll be fine, Lizzie.” I guess she had heard the uneasiness in my voice. “Just sit tight, stay inside and dry. Watch some television with the children, and remember, you’re as safe as houses.”
That made me smile.
“I know. I’ll call when they get home.”
“And try to stay off the line until then. Never wise to be on the phone during an electrical storm.”
“It’s not going to hit the phone line, Mom,” I said.
“You know how I worry.”
“That I know,” I said.
“I love you, Lizzie. Bye for now.”
I hung up the phone. There was no point in feeling sad about the whole thing. There was work to do. I might as well start boiling the potatoes. A good, warm, filling meal would be the ticket to feeling better. At least if the power went out supper would be cooked. I walked into the kitchen, put a lid on the pot, and turned on the burner.
A flash of lightning suddenly illuminated the whole sky, followed almost immediately by a clap of thunder. That meant the storm was practically on top of us. I looked out the window. It wasn’t that late. There should still have been some light, but the thick clouds and heavy rain had made night come early. There was another burst of lightning and the world was lit up again. Up the river I could just make out the outline of the footbridge. I could see the skeleton of the railings and—wait, that couldn’t be right. Then a third flash of lightning, and what I saw astonished me. The water was bouncing against the side of the bridge and flooding right over it! The railings were still clearly above the water, but there was water going over the bridge. I’d never seen that before, even during the spring floods. It would have been impossible to walk across the bridge now. Thank goodness I was going to be getting a drive instead.
I just stood there at the window watching the rain pound down, waiting for another lightning burst to illuminate the scene. I was as fascinated by the weather as David was by the television. It was a phenomenal storm.
One more gigantic flash lit up the whole sky, the whole room, and then it went dark everywhere. The lights in the house had gone off. The television had gone off. For a few seconds nobody said anything; the only sound was the rain pounding against the windows. Then there was another flash of lightning that lit up the room eerily. In that split second I saw Suzie standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She looked panic-stricken. I tried to think of something to say to reassure her, but before I could come up with anything the lights flickered and came on, then went off, then, thank heavens, came back on again to stay.
I walked toward Suzie. “See, there’s nothing to worry about,” I said cheerfully, trying to reassure her.
“I wasn’t worried,” David called out from the living room. He sounded almost angry. “Just annoyed that the television went off.”
“Sometimes the power goes off for a few seconds when there’s lightning,” I continued, ignoring him.
David stood up and turned the set back on. A little greyish light started to glow in the middle of the screen. It got lighter and whiter and slowly grew until it took up the whole screen. The white resolved into different shades until fuzzy figures appeared.
“Maybe you should do your homework instead of watching television,” I suggested.
“Why should I?” he asked. “I’ve got all weekend.”
“Isn’t it better to do your homework on Friday night so you have the rest of the weekend to just enjoy yourself?” I suggested.
“I think I’m going to wait and see what happens. The way it’s raining, there’s a chance there won’t be any school on Monday.”
“What do you think is going to happen? Do you think the school is going to float away?” I asked.
“I can hope.”
“Better not hope too hard. Think about it. The school is up on the hill, and we’re down here by the river. If the school floated away, what do you think would happen to us?”
“Could something happen to us?” Suzie asked. She sounded anxious.
“Nothing will happen to us,” I said firmly, kicking myself for having spooked her. “We’re in a house. Houses don’t float away.” I turned to David. “Schools don’t float away. Even if the lights go out again, all that means is that we’ll be safe in the dark instead of safe in the light.”
“I don’t like the dark,” Suzie said.
“Neither do I. Let’s make sure it doesn’t get dark, even if the lights do go out again. Come.” I took Suzie’s hand and led her into the kitchen. Daisy followed along behind us, her toenails click-clicking on the plywood floor until she stopped at her empty bowl and looked up. I was temped to add some more food to her bowl, just to make her happy, but I’d been told not to do that. Apparently Daisy would just keep eating and eating and eating. Maybe she didn’t like water but she did like food. Daisy was one pudgy dog.
I pushed over a chair, climbed up, reached up over the fridge, and pulled down the candles. There were five. Two were just little stubs and three had never been lit.
“Can you get me five egg cups?” I asked.
Suzie climbed up on another chair and so she could reach the cupboard. I pulled a roll of aluminum foil out of a drawer. Suzie put the egg cups on the counter, I ripped off a piece of foil and rolled it around the end of a candle, then put it snuggly in the egg cup so it would stand up. I repeated the process four more times.
“If the lights go out, we’re ready,” I said.
“Could we light one of them now?” Suzie asked.
“Why not? I’ll just…” I didn’t have matches, and I didn’t even know where to look.
“I know where there are matches,” Suzie said, without me even asking. She ran quickly out of the room, and when she returned I lit one candle and set it on the counter, out of the way.
“Do you think Mommy and Daddy will be here soon?” Suzie asked.
“Could be soon.”
“But it could be longer, right?”
I shook my head. “It’s almost six-thirty. They left at four. They could practically walk here in three hours.”
Suzie’s face brightened.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “It’s just rain. It’s not like they’re made of gingerbread—they won’t melt. I bet you they’ll be home by the time we eat supper. Why don’t you wash your hands and help me put the food out.”
CHAPTER
THREE
I finished washing the last of the supper dishes and went back to join the kids in the living room. It was starting to look as if the McBrides had melted. Where were they? They could have at least called to let me know where they were and when they would get here.
I was happy that Suzie had drifted off. She and Daisy were all snuggled up together in a little ball on the floor, looking like a picture in a calendar. David sat, stone still, on the chesterfield, watching the television. He’d given up trying to improve the reception. The picture was fuzzy, flashing and rolling and fading, and the sound cracked and popped. I would have told him to turn it off long ago if it hadn’t been for the weather updates. Some of the news was reassuring. They were predicting that the rain would stop sometime during the night. We were getting the tail end of a hurricane—they called it Hurricane Hazel—that had hit way down south in the United States. Thank goodness we weren’t down there, where the hurricane could do real damage.
However, most of what was reported was just disturbing. The roads were a mess of accidents, stalled cars, downed hydro wires, and fallen trees. Power was out in large parts of the city and phones weren’t working in some areas. I’d jumped up a couple of times to pick up the receiver, just to make sure there was still a dial tone. It was amazing how comforting that buzzing sound was.
One time the announcer said that the downtown hotels were filling up with people unable to drive home. I was sure that wasn’t the case with Mr. and Mrs. McBride, though. They were taking a long time but they were still coming, I was positive.
I wondered what would happen if my father got here first. I’d even thought about just tucking the kids into bed and leaving with him, but I knew there was no way I could do that, no matter how much I wanted to go home. My father would just wait—unless we all went back to our house. We could do that. There was certainly room in the truck for all of us. We could even bring Daisy. Poor dog would have to get wet getting to the truck, but we couldn’t leave her alone, either. I would just leave the McBrides a note telling them where we were.
I walked over to the front window and peered out into the darkness once again. Occasionally lights would appear on the edge of the valley—cars moving along the road. At least somebody was moving. And I could hope that the next set of lights might turn down the road and come toward us and that it would be Mr. and Mrs. McBride. Or even better, my father. I could just picture his tow truck splashing through the street, turning into the driveway, my father jumping out of the cab wearing his big black slicker and running up to the house and deciding what we all needed to do.
“Do you think we should move her upstairs?” David asked.
“What?” I turned away from the window.
He pointed to Suzie. “Do you think we should try to move her upstairs?”
“Let her sleep until your parents get home. As long as she’s asleep she isn’t worried,” I said. “Are you worried?”
“Yeah, right, like I’m afraid of some rain.”
“It’s a whole lot of rain.”
“That’s just a whole lot of nothing to worry about. Are you worried?” he asked.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to lie.
He snorted. “Why don’t you roll into a little ball with Suzie and Daisy and you can go to sleep and I’ll babysit everybody.”
“I’m not worried.”
“You’re looking and acting worried.” He was pushing me again, looking for an argument. Why didn’t he just go back to watching the television and ignoring me.
“I’m just concerned about your parents. Aren’t you?”
It was David’s turn to be silent. Now I’d made him uneasy. What a great babysitter I was, scaring the kids instead of reassuring them.
“I’m sure they’ll be home soon,” I said quickly. “Until they get here, we’ll just watch television. Do you want me to get you something else to eat?” He hadn’t eaten much supper.
“Thanks…that would be nice.”
It seemed like the least I could do after what I’d said. I walked into the kitchen and had just opened the fridge when suddenly the lights went out again and I was standing in semi-darkness. The little candle in the egg cup was still sitting on the counter, and the light that had seemed so weak and faint was now strong and warm and welcoming.
“The lights will be back on soon,” I said, loudly enough for David to hear. “Please come back on,” I pleaded quietly, under my breath. I started counting. I reached ten. Still no lights. I lit a second candle and walked back to the living room, careful not to let it go out.
“Do phones work in the dark?” David asked.
“Why wouldn’t they? You can talk in the dark.”
“You don’t need electricity to talk. Do phones work when there’s no power?” he asked.
I didn’t know…I’d never even thought about it. I grabbed the phone out of the cradle and put it up to my ear. Instant relief. “It’s working, there’s a dial tone.”
“That just means that it has a dial tone. Call somebody. Why don’t you call Donnie and tell him you don’t like him like that.”
I wanted to tell him to shut up. Instead I started to dial. I knew who I wanted to talk to. There was a brief hesitation after I dialed the seventh number and then it started to ring. It was picked up immediately.
“Hello?”
“It’s me, Mom.”
“Oh, Lizzie, I was just talking to your father. His truck has stalled.” She sounded worried.
“But how is he going to pick me up?” Now I was getting worried.
“You’ll have to stay there tonight.”
“Mrs. McBride said that Mr. McBride would drive me home.”
“Given how your father has described the roads, I think there’s a very good chance that they won’t be able to reach you tonight.”
“But wouldn’t they have called if they weren’t coming home?”
“Maybe they can’t get to a phone that’s working. Phones and power are out in places across the city. My electricity just went out again a few minutes ago. Do you still have power?”
“It just went out.”
“Do you have candles or flashlights?” she asked.
“Candles. I have a couple burning now.”
“Be careful with the flames. Make sure you blow them out before you go to bed tonight.”
“Mom, I’m not a kid.” But despite those words it suddenly sank in. I was sleeping here, maybe with just the kids, me watching, being in charge.
“I know, Lizzie, but you’ll always be my kid. I want you to call me if you hear from the McBrides or if they get home.”
“I’ll call right away.”
“And call me once or twice before you go to bed. We’ll just hope the phones continue to work. They’re calling Hurricane Hazel the storm of the century, and the phones might go down, the way the electricity did.”
It felt as if there were butterflies in my stomach.
“Lizzie, I wish you were right here beside me.”
Not nearly as much as I wished that same thing, no matter how confident I was trying to sound.
“But I’m so glad for the sake of those children that you’re right there,” she went on. “Can you imagine how terrible it would be for them to be there by themselves?”
I looked over at Suzie, sleeping, snuggled in with Daisy. David wouldn’t admit it, but he needed me to be there, too.
“And, Lizzie, I love you.”
“I love you, too. I’ll talk to you soon.”
I put the phone down and took a deep breath, trying to chase away the butterflies. I didn’t want to sleep here tonight. I didn’t even want to be here right now. I peered through the window. If there had been a bit more light, and I’d looked hard enough, I might have actually made out a couple of houses on my street. So close and yet so far.
Maybe I couldn’t get to my bed, but it was time to get Suzie into hers. She was still sleeping peacefully on the floor. Gently I lifted her up. Her head flopped to the side but she didn’t wake up.
“David,” I said, softly. “Can you take one of the candles and lead the way, please?”
“How about if I do this instead.”
A beam of light shot out, illuminating the entire staircase.
“You have a flashlight!”
“No, I have two flashlights.” A second beam shot straight into my eyes, blinding me until I turned my head. He turned it off.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had flashlights?”
“You seemed to like the candles. Besides, I didn’t want to waste the batteries.”
“Help me upstairs.”
David led the way and trailed the light behind him so I could see the stairs. Suzie wasn’t big but she was a dead weight and I struggled as I climbed, being careful not to trip. Her room was right at the top of the stairs. David pulled back the bed covers and I laid her down and tucked her in. She was still in her clothes, but I didn’t want to wake her.
Her eyes opened ever so slightly.
“It’s bedtime…go to sleep,” I whispered.
“Goodnight, Elizabeth.” Her eyes closed again.
