Under the Oaks, Beside the Bayou

The Hurricane

Zen had stood watching the little family move off, and he felt a sense of foreboding in his belly. The breeze had picked up as the father had lifted the boy to the front of the horse. The woman was already mounted and Aubert began to lead them off.

Zen went from house to house, checking on all the elders before he went back to secure his own. Several people had dropped in while he was gone, leaving money and lists of their purchases. He had time to bolt down the shutters and build a fire.

Then all hell broke loose.

The Hurricane hit tiny Last Island, in the Gulf of Mexico, with full-force winds like the locals had never seen before. The twelve-foot storm surge swallowed the vacation resorts and smaller permanent houses whole before it raged inland toward New Iberia and St. Martinville. Nearly two hundred people died on the small barrier reef, and more met their demise in capsized boats throughout the Gulf.

As it raged north, the winds lessened, although the added danger of tornados joined their mammoth mistress on its journey. Spots remained unscathed, while others were wiped from the map. The region's rice plantations and peach orchards were decimated. For those housed in their homes, each faced long, terrifying hours that seemed like days instead.

Zen sat alone, enduring it. The ceaseless din was unnerving, and his ears played tricks on him, The howling wind began to sound like people screaming for help, and it took all his mental reserves to stand his ground and not rush out to rescue them. The sound of trees being blown over made him jump each time. The huge raindrops reminded him of a Gatling-gun firing on the tin roof, with thousands of bullets that rattled maddeningly throughout the endless night..

His mind was pulled numerous times to the little family who had left the store an hour before the first drops fell and the winds began to whip.

Did they arrive home safely?

Did fear of the storm bring the baby early?

Did small Yon get to eat his chocolate cake, and would he live through this night and play marbles again, with friends in the town square?

He should have done more, run after them, and insisted that they stay. It ate at him as he paced the floor and prayed they had been spared.

Shortly before dawn, the winds lessened, and the rain sounded more normal than before. Zen busied himself, gathering supplies. Ointments, bandages, several splints. Dry blanket for four, in case the baby had arrived. Food and a kettle to boil water for drinking. Fresh water in several water skins. He checked his travois to make sure it could carry the pregnant woman back to the house behind the store. By dawn, he noticed the rain had stopped, and the wind had moved north, heading towards Mississippi. And light, blessed light, was breaking through the clouds. He stepped gingerly outside and stopped in horror. The town looked like a war zone.

People were emerging, going from shock into frenzied activity, checking on neighbors. Zen met up with several, one of whom was Grand-mere [as the townspeople collectively called her} Damia Clary, who was wringing her hands in front of what was once her house. Three-quarters of it had been completely flattened, and an enormous locust tree lay across it. It had come down in the latter half of the storm after the eye had passed. She had laid shivering in her bed until dawn.

"Grand-Mere Damia? Grand-Mere?" Making sure he spoke gently to her, the older woman gave him an inquiring stare. He took her shaking hands in his.

"Grand-mere, please come to my house? There is a fire there, and you may make some food in my kitchen. I have a huge house. In fact, use whatever you need. If you feel up to it, feed everyone in town. I want you to make yourself at home, please? I must leave and check out the Auberts. She is ready to give birth. They will not be able to handle two children and a weakened mother. Will you stay and lend a hand? I fear I will need help! I will bring them back and help Armand Aubert with repairs. Then he and I will help rebuild your place. Can you, would you mind terribly?"

She steadied herself and looked at him sternly, placing her hands on her hips.

"I know what you are doing, Young De Brummette. I was not born yesterday, and you are not very good at pulling the wool over the sharp eyes of old ladies, L'enfante. Frankly, I am not too proud to welcome a warm refuge and a helping hand. And, clever boy, feeding the town will keep me busy and my mind of the house that my Jacques built when we moved here."

They smiled at one another. He helped her rummage through the wreckage for clothing and necessities, and he walked her to the store and into the main house. She chose a small bedroom on the second floor and followed him back down.

"While you are in the woods, others will want supplies."

"Let them have what they need."

"And have you become penniless? Indeed, not!"

"It does not matter."

"It matters to me and also to them! This town is also family, and they have their pride, too! Do not be foolish."

"
Alright then, take notes but tell them we will settle up when we have all recovered. And thank you, Gran-Mere."

She was already hanging up her things in the washing room to dry, and she motioned him over. He leaned down to hear her, but she kissed his cheek in gratitude. He blushed deeply, and she motioned for him to go on and do what he needed to do.

All the people in town were accounted for and safe. Several had injuries, but Doctor Briard was tending to a few already.

Zen approached him and explained about the Auberts.

"You are going out? Mon Dieu, Zen."

"I must check on them. I am worried about them. The mother is so close to giving birth."

"Alright, but wait a moment." The old doctor ran inside and brought out a leather pouch.

"These pills are for signs of dysentery; these others may be needed to curb excessive bleeding. Get her and the newborn back here as soon as possible. The liquid is for snakebite. The water moccasins will be aggressive in this mess."

Zen nodded and ran to saddle his horse.