Part 12 (1/2)

”I think he's changed,” Daniel said.

A brief flash of rage spun across Hunter's face before he managed to look away.

”You always think he's changed,” he said.

Daniel wanted to plead more, not for a strong belief in his father, which he didn't feel, but to soothe his brother. He wanted to keep lying to make things better, but he knew it would make them worse.

Hunter laughed. ”He really sleeping in the toolshed?” he asked.

”Yeah,” Daniel said. ”I thought Mom was joking, but she lets the chainsaw stay in the house while he sleeps in the shed.”

”That's pretty funny.” Hunter turned and smiled at Daniel. ”d.a.m.n, dude, I'm glad you're okay. How's Zola?”

”She's fine. Her thumbs don't know what to do with the cell towers out. She misses her friends, and a tree went through her bed and ruined a ton of her s.h.i.+t, but she seems to actually be fine.”

”This is pretty f.u.c.ked up,” Hunter said, looking around at all the trees and scattered branches. Daniel noticed not a piece of the debris had been moved. There were no piles of branches like around his neighborhood. He imagined Hunter and Chen had been rolling around in bed doing whatever couples did while he'd been working his a.s.s off and worried about them.

”We should totally be in school right now,” Daniel said.

They turned to the sound of the screen door snapping shut. Chen and Anna came out, plastic grocery bags in either hand. Edward headed toward the Bronco from the far corner of the house.

”You got all your things?” Daniel asked his brother.

He patted his pockets. ”Heh. I just checked to see if I had the keys to the car. Yeah, I've got my wallet and phone.”

”I packed your other clothes in the suitcase,” Chen said. Daniel took bags of food and a gallon of water from her and put them in the back of the Bronco. Anna unloaded her arms as well, then began rearranging the stuff in the back, pressing it all to the sides, leaving room in the middle.

”I guess we'll be sitting back here,” she said, referring to the cargo compartment behind the rear seat.

Daniel nodded. He watched his father make his sullen way up the drive, hands in his pockets, chin down, feet dragging. He looked like a whipped dog, and Daniel no longer wanted to know what had been said between them. He didn't want to feel any sorrier for his dad than he already did.

As Hunter and Chen got in the back seat and his father and Edward slid in up front, Daniel felt overwhelmed with how right the pairing felt. The presence of another couple seemed to solidify something between him and Anna-some vicarious romantic energy. We are what they are. He and Anna crawled in the back amid the bags of food and the suitcase. Daniel grabbed the top edge of the hinged rear door, its window down, and swung it shut. It banged and latched with the raw metal sound of an older car, and they were off, crunching the gravel driveway, turning their back on the empty house and ruined family car, working their way down the narrow alley of wounded and broken trees, the glare of the sun dimming as they pa.s.sed through the mottled shade, then out to the unbroken s.h.i.+ne and steady thrum of civilized pavement beyond.

23.

The world went by in reverse. Daniel and Anna watched the past from the back of the Bronco, the road sliding off into the distance as they leaned against the back of the seat and peered out the rear window. A tree that they had cut and hauled out of the way just hours before popped into view and then slid away from them. The plastic grocery bags rustled in the breeze. Bits of conversation from the two men in the front drifted back, but in an indistinguishable slur. The deep silence from Hunter and Chen was much nearer.

Daniel felt his body unwind from the several days of tension. He relaxed against the seat behind him and felt the raw terror of his life-not the storm aftermath, but of his normal life-slide out his pores. He felt happy and calm in a way he couldn't remember since childhood. Maybe it was knowing his brother was okay, that his entire family was okay. Perhaps it was the chilly breeze pa.s.sing through the car, cooling the sweat on the back of his neck, making his hair dance on his scalp. Maybe it was the thrill of being one of the only vehicles in sight, or the view of all the destruction sliding over the horizon, reminding him how awesome it was to be alive. He soaked in the unusual state of bliss. He felt his shoulder b.u.mp up against Anna's as the Bronco lurched to the side. He felt Anna press herself closer, so that the contact between them remained long after the limb Edward had dodged disappeared into the past.

Maybe it was all the emotional outpouring of the last few days, the thrill of the unknowable future rus.h.i.+ng at him blindly from behind, not knowing when he'd go to school again, not knowing when he'd watch TV again, not knowing when his cell phone would come back to life and continue its unringing mocking. It could have been any or all of these things that caused him to do the unthinkable, the laughable, the it-only-happens-in-the-movies: He reached over and grabbed Anna's hand.

It was so easy. It was like he couldn't not do it. He felt her warm and soft palm against his own, felt her small and dexterous fingers curl around his, accepting. He rubbed his thumb up and down the back of her fingers, marveling at how simple and correct the harmless act felt. Some kind of raw power surged through him, a joy that threatened to burst out through his chest if his heart couldn't contain it. Then Anna tilted her head to the side and rested it on Daniel's shoulder, and she made the unimprovable better.

The world slid into the past. The future came at them blindly. With the wind drowning out the sound of the blinker, the stops and turns took them by surprise, causing them to stiffen and brace for what came next. But they remained like that, leaning on one another, hands caressing hands, fingers learning how they interlocked, and Daniel realized that if it was happening so fast, it wasn't because of anything apocalyptic. He realized that Anna had been waiting just as long for him as he had been for her.

24.

As they rode slowly through town, Daniel was glad for the extended tour and the leisurely pace. He could've ridden in that Bronco forever.

They pa.s.sed a gas station with a line of vehicles all trying to get to a single pump. The rattle of a portable generator and the sight of a man in coveralls working the nozzle gave them a bit of hope that civilization could reopen for business, albeit slowly and at a trickle.

Two police cars sat outside the Save-Mart, their blue lights flas.h.i.+ng in circles. There was yellow tape over the front gla.s.s, which was patched with full sheets of plywood.

”Storm damage or looting?” Daniel asked.

Anna let go of his hand to grab the edge of the rear window and peer out. ”I hope storm damage,” she said, but not too convincingly.

Daniel rubbed his hands together. He felt the residual heat from her skin touching his. He glanced at Anna's hand and had the powerful surety that he could grab it again if he wanted. It was a new power, like waking up one morning to discover you could fly. He could touch someone in a loving way and have them not flinch, or think him a creep. They would even reciprocate.

Daniel had a sudden impulse to leap out of the back of the Bronco and run down the street, screaming at the top of his voice.

”Look at that,” Anna said. She pointed off to the other side. Daniel could hear his father and Edward jabbering in the front. His brother cursed.

Daniel leaned forward and peered out the back of the Bronco and off to the side. The hulk of a dozen boats were scattered over the marsh between the highway and the Beaufort River. Normally, the craft were bobbing in the gentle swell or stiff current of the ever-changing tide, like ducks all swimming in the same direction. The high tide and storm surge had pulled their moorings free and had dragged them over dry land before receding. Now they sat on their sides, forlorn and looking like toys, masts angling up toward the sky in unusual angles, the tatters of an unfurled headsail hanging from a forestay like laundry left out to dry. A pickup truck was parked out on a gravel turnout, the driver standing by the front b.u.mper, his hands on the sides of his head, elbows jutting, disbelieving, to either side. Daniel wondered if he was one of the owners, or just a stunned gawker like the rest of them.

”Over there,” Anna said.

She pointed across the river. Daniel saw the stern and prop of a boat lost among the trees on the far bank. A small sailboat stood high and dry, tangled in the broken limbs of an old oak. It seemed to be what Anna was pointing at. He heard Hunter and Chen conversing back and forth; he looked to the side to see their faces hanging out the window, eyes wide and darting.

Daniel imagined what the City Marina must look like if this anchorage, known affectionately as ”Hurricane Hole” for its relatively nice protection, could be so decimated. He was frankly glad when Edward did a U-Turn at the end of town and started heading back toward home, keeping him from having to see what his dad had been through.

”Doesn't look like much of anything's open for business,” Daniel said.

They pa.s.sed the gas station with the single operational pump. Edward didn't even slow down, obviously deciding he had enough fuel to not endure the wait.

”It's only been two days,” Anna pointed out. Daniel felt a stabbing fear that she was referring to their hand-holding and the rapidity of his feelings for her. He shook such doubts away. She was talking about the storm, the signs of progress already. She was saying that this was as bad as it would be, and it would only get better.

Daniel nearly reached out and tested whatever was between them by grabbing her hand, but such actions still felt like they needed a moment. It could feel casual and right during a moment, but not just anytime. Right then, it would have felt desperate. Physical, rather than emotional. Daniel marveled that he knew such things. He could now see through walls as well as fly. He wondered what other new powers he'd discover next.

The Bronco picked up speed as they left town, and Daniel and Anna watched the road move beneath them, their chins hanging over the rear door. Sporadic traffic roared by in the other direction. Daniel waved to some kids in the back of a pickup, who waved back.

They turned into their neighborhood, and Hunter whistled at the sight of the tree across the road. Edward steered them through the tight gap once again, the smell of cut wood and sap just as strong as before. Chainsaws were still busy at work somewhere. People were out doing what Daniel had been doing for days: dragging limbs, waving to foreign neighbors, drinking warm water and sweating. He felt like an explorer returning home from a dangerous circ.u.mnavigation. He felt alive with a new knowledge of what the outside world looked like and what other people were going through. He imagined himself going door to door to fill people in, despite the fact that they could just as easily drive through town and gawk for themselves.

Edward pa.s.sed by his and Anna's house and drove to the end of the cul-de-sac. He pulled up Daniel's driveway, past the several neat mounds of debris.

”Holy s.h.i.+t,” Hunter said, when he saw the size of the tree resting against the house.

Chen said something to him about watching his language as the Bronco squealed to a stop. Doors popped open and the six of them staggered out.

Daniel heard Zola squeal their mother's name. She then ran across the yard and threw herself into Hunter's arms, who picked her up and spun her around. For Daniel, the scene was as bizarre and new as the tree denting their roof. Their mom walked briskly across the yard, tugging her gloves off, and waited for Zola to be set down. She hugged Hunter, her eyes wet with tears. She let go and stepped back to look at him, her hands still on his cheeks.