Part 6 (2/2)
The man's raised eyebrow suggested he was losing patience. ”If a pyroclastic flow pours down this mountain at eighty miles an hour, Lottie, you won't have to worry about your hewn-log cabin or your expensive furniture. The thirteen-hundred-degree heat will incinerate everything in seconds, then bury it in fifty feet of volcanic debris.” His rough voice softened slightly. ”Look, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings. Every minute we're standing here is risky. Now pack some clothes for yourself and your family. We'll be waiting outside with a vehicle to get you to safety. But we gotta move fast. Understood?”
She nodded mutely, not trusting herself to speak without sobbing. Her house! Her precious home and all it contained, mere fodder for an angry mountain.
Hearing her daughters whimpering behind her, Lottie whirled around. ”Enough of that, girls! I want each of you to pack a suitcase. One dress, one pair of jeans, then anything else you like. But one bag each, tops.” She waved toward the stairs that led to their bedrooms. ”Go on! We can't keep these fellas waiting.” Aiming a pointed look at the front door, Lottie added, ”They might get a pumice stone in their eyes standing out there.”
Her husband hurried after the girls, no doubt planning to pack his own bag full of electronic gear and CDs instead of the slacks and socks he'd be whining for within hours.
No problem. Lottie would pack those herself since she had no intention of leaving. When everyone got in the van, she'd wave them off, then stay behind and hold down the fort, keep an eye on things. They'd be back in a week or two, tails between their legs. In the meantime she'd read a few novels, do some spring cleaning, and enjoy the solitude.
But thirty minutes later when she tried to send them off, the two government types wouldn't hear of it.
”Ma'am, this is not an optional evacuation. We're to get everyone off this mountain, like it or not.”
She folded her arms across her chest. ”Not, then.”
He yanked open the door to the vehicle with a groan. ”You can't fight us on this. We have our orders, and trust me, they're from the very top. Get in.”
Jerking her chin to the side, she threw herself in the backseat next to her wide-eyed daughters and stone-faced husband. The official closed the door behind her with a bang, then settled into the pa.s.senger seat in front as the engine roared to life.
His expression grim, he leaned over his left shoulder. ”Do yourself a favor, Lottie. Don't look back. It'll only make it worse.”
”Oh, right,” she fumed, deliberately turning around to stare out the window behind her. ”It can't get any worse than this.”
They rode in silence while her thoughts turned along desperate paths. Their home was as good as gone. Gone! Her lovely things, a lifetime of memories, left behind for no good reason. If the mountain really blew her top, they'd have time to get out, wouldn't they? Surely the lake would quickly cool that pyro-whatever mess. Yes, it was risky, but life was all about risk. Wasn't it hers to take?
Despondent, she turned back around to face forward, her heart broken by her last sight of home now blanketed with a fine layer of ash. Another sobering thought struck her: Would their homeowner's policy cover volcano damage? She almost laughed aloud at the ridiculousness of it all, until a sickening realization washed over her.
The video! She'd forgotten the video, the one with their detailed house inventory, left perched on the bookshelf in her chef's dream of a kitchen. It was the only record she had, her only hope for a fair settlement if it came to that.
”Wait! I need to go back.” Lottie gripped the headrest, pulling herself forward. ”Please! I forgot the one thing we'll need for our insurance. It won't take me a second to get it, honest. You can leave the engine running if you need to. I promise I'll hurry.”
Grumbling under his breath, the driver maneuvered the van around on the narrow, forest-service road, downs.h.i.+fted, then took off with a jarring lurch. Lottie smiled to herself as her home came into view once more, the rocking chair on the porch offering a tantalizing respite from all the doom and gloom around her. Shoving open the van door, she hurried up the steps, catching a glimpse of their own Chevy truck out of the corner of her eye.
Of course! She had her own wheels; she'd get herself out, if and when the time came to flee the mountain's wrath.
Lottie spun on her heels and hurried back down the steps toward the officials, now glaring at her from the front seat. She leaned on the open van window and forced herself to sound sincere. ”Fellas, this may take a little while after all. I'm...I'm not sure where I stuck that insurance video. Why don't you go ahead, and I'll follow you in the truck?” She pointed at it with casual indifference. ”It has a full tank and four-wheel drive, all ready to go. I won't be long. Deal?”
As expected, her family protested.
”Mo-ther! We gotta go-now.”
”Lottie, honey, this is not the time for arguments.”
”C'mon, Mom! That...that dragon up there is ready to blow.”
Lottie held up her hands, determined to have her way. ”I'll be fine. Go on, take off. I'll be along before you miss me. All I need to know is where we're going to meet later.”
His lips drawn into a narrow line of frustration, the driver spat out directions to their rendezvous point. ”This is highly irregular, ma'am,” he insisted. ”I hope you won't regret it.”
”Nothing to worry about. Now go. I'll see you shortly.”
She stood on the bottom porch step, waving as the vanload b.u.mped their way toward uncomfortable motel beds. A slight smile moved across her lips as she turned and climbed the steps. The May evening was warm, the sky smoky but quiet. She'd almost grown accustomed to the faint smell of sulfur in the air.
Dropping into the inviting porch chair, Lottie pointed herself toward the mountain and began rocking in a steady rhythm. ”St. Helens, old girl, suppose you do the talking for a change, and I'll just sit here and listen.” As the sky darkened, Lottie was lulled to sleep by the sounds of nature all around her and the a.s.surance that when the sun rose, so would she...
May 18, 1980, 8:32 A.M. PDT: A magnitude 5.1 earthquake occurred one mile beneath Mount St. Helens, releasing an avalanche of rock and ice down the north face of the mountain, completely overtaking Spirit Lake. The resulting tsunami swept water as high as 820 feet, followed by a volcanic eruption of pumice and ash covering 230 square miles. The death toll stands at 57.1
She Left Her Heart in Sodom
and Gomorrah: Lot's Wife
”It was the same in the days of Lot. People were eating and drinking, buying and selling, planting and building.” Luke 17:28 In the days of Lottie, in the days of Lot, in the days immediately preceding the revelation of the Son of Man-all such days Jesus described as ordinary days. People going through the mundane motions of life. Nibbling Pop Tarts for breakfast, buying CDs on the Internet, spraying the rosebushes for bugs, flipping burgers on the grill. Days straight out of Better Homes and Gardens.
Until suddenly...
”We didn't know, Lord! We weren't expecting that!” No one is ever prepared for disaster to strike.
Lot's wife wasn't ready, not even when she was warned.
”But the day Lot left Sodom, fire and sulfur rained down from heaven and destroyed them all.” Luke 17:29 All were destroyed except Lot and his two daughters, as we'll soon see. Lot's wife, though, wasn't counted among the survivors.
She's another of the no-name Bad Girls, married to a man whose chief claim to fame was his uncle, the great patriarch Abram (soon to be renamed Abraham).
”Neither Lot nor his wife was a bad character,” one commentator insisted.2 Next to the other residents of Sodom-Lot's lethal city of choice-Lot and his wife no doubt looked pretty good. But Lot was selfish. When he and his uncle went their separate ways, Lot chose the best land for himself.
Lot looked up and saw that the whole plain of the Jordan was well watered, like the garden of the LORD. Genesis 13:10 ”Aha!” Lot must have thought. Ha.s.sle-free gardening, unlike the experience of his unfortunate ancestor Adam. ”This land is my land, Uncle.” And so it was.
Abram lived in the land of Canaan, while Lot lived among the cities of the plain and pitched his tents near Sodom. Now the men of Sodom were wicked and were sinning greatly against the LORD. Genesis 13:12-13 The land was good, but the people were not, and Lot knew that from day one. He deliberately chose to dwell among a people who flaunted their sins in G.o.d's face. Very repugnant stuff too. The word ”Sodom,” like the name ”Jezebel,” has come into our modern language as a noun of ill repute: ”sodomy.”
Ugh. Let's not go there.
Lot pitched his tents near sinful Sodom, knowing full well the city's nasty reputation. Sodom was also a place of opportunity and easy riches, and that's what drew Lot closer and closer until he'd built himself a fine residence within the city walls, thoroughly immersing himself in his adopted urban home.
A gentle reminder: Disaster is right around the corner.
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