Steps to the Storm

Steps to the Storm

Emily Collis

Hilda and Dusty sat on their porch steps surrounded by choppy waves. Those five steps were all that was left of their house. Grey water slapped against wood. The surge had brought the sea so high they couldn't see land anymore. For the first time in a while, the bickering seabirds were silent.

"I tell ya, Hildie." Dusty pulled his cap low over his brow.

"Mm-hm." Hilda's long gray hairs drifted in the calm like stray spider's silk. In both hands, she clutched a weathervane goose, the gold paint chipped around the edges.

The ocean sloshed round them, tired from its long tantrum. A sealed plastic bag bobbed on the waves. Inside was a sandwich, pristine and untouched.

Dusty leaned forward and plucked the sandwich bag from the water. He opened it and inspected the contents. "Baloney," he remarked. Somehow, the meat was still fresh. He offered half to his wife but she waved him away.

"Don't like baloney."

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Nope."

Dusty shrugged and bit into the sandwich.

Hilda stroked the metal neck of a weathervane, tracing the flakes of gold paint with her finger. "Poor goose," she murmured.

"Why in the hell do you still have that stupid thing?" Her husband said with his mouth full.

Hilda threw her head skyward. "Lord Almighty, get off my case, will ya? It isn't enough that we lost the house?"

"I'd trade that goddamn goose for the house."

"You take that back," Hilda said.

"Nope."

"You don't get it." Hilda pulled the goose close to her chest. "This guy is all I got left of my mama."

"Your mama never liked me."

"She let you move in," said Hilda.

"She only did that to make you happy," said Dusty. He tossed the sandwich bag into the ocean.

"Litterbug," said Hilda. "This goose has been around all my life. Longer than you have. I used to watch it twirl on lazy days and whenever there was a storm-whenever there was bad weather, this fella let us know. And he did this time too." Hilda leaned back against the steps. "But we didn't listen."

The two sat. The ocean sloshed to fill the silence.

"Why didn't your mama like me?" Dusty said.

"Aw, Dusty-"

"And why'd you have to climb your silly bee-hind up onto the roof to get that goose? Why, Hildie? You could'a died."

"You're asking a lot of questions," Hilda replied.

"Pfffsh," Dusty turned his back.

"This goose is my family, Dusty, got it? As long as the he's here, my family is too."

"It ain't real," muttered Dusty. "I could go into town and buy the exact same thing. You'd risk your life for a dime-a-dozen weathervane?"

"I ain't letting go of this goose," said Hilda. "This thing saved all of us back when I was a girl. We all would've died if this goose hadn't warned us how bad Hurricane Lorrie was gonna be when she swept through."