Of Storms and Sorrow

Dedicated to the victims of Hurricane Sandy, whose lives will never be the same. www.redcross.org www.salvationarmyusa.org

Of Storms and Sorrow

 

     Penny sat at the kitchen table, cradling a mug of hot tea in her hands, watching the first rays of the sun peek in through the dining room window. The weather was calm and peaceful, as if it were apologizing for the terrible tantrum it'd thrown just days before.

     Maggie, Penny's older sister, sat at the other end of the table. Her limp posture and the dark circles under her eyes made it clear that she was not accustomed to rising at an early hour. Maggie had been retired for nearly twenty years, and liked to say that the greatest perk was being able to sleep in 'til noon.

     "Did you sleep okay last night?" Maggie asked. She followed her question with a deep yawn.

     Penny shifted her gaze from the window to her sister and offered a weak smile.

     "I slept fine. Your couch is pretty comfortable."

     "Glad to hear it. You know you're welcome to stay here as long as you need. It's been nice having you around."

     "Thanks, Sis."

     "I see you're already dressed. You're not really going out there today, are you?"

     "I most certainly am," Penny said.

     "Shouldn't you give it a couple more days? They say it's--"

     "I'm heading out as soon as I finish my tea."

     Maggie's eyes filled with concern. "But you saw the pictures on T.V. It's a mess out there."

     "I don't care," Penny said. Her tone was sharper than she'd meant it to be. She softened it and said, "I have to see for myself."

     "Do you want me to go with you?" Maggie asked.

     It was a sweet gesture, but there was no way Penny was going to drag her seventy-six-year-old sister into a disaster area.

     "No, but thank you for offering."

     Maggie nodded. "I just hate the idea of you going out there alone. I don't care how old you are, you're still my baby sister. I'm worried about you."

     "I'll be fine, Sis. Really." Penny gave her another half-hearted smile.

     "Just be careful."

     "I will."

     Penny finished the last sip of her tea, then excused herself from the table and headed into the bathroom. She splashed a little water on her face, then stared at her reflection in the mirror and gave herself a mental pep talk.

     It's going to be okay. It probably won't be as bad as you imagine.

     She fished around in the drawer beneath the sink for a hair-tie, then pulled her shoulder-length, silver hair into a ponytail. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for the journey ahead.

     When she opened the bathroom door, Maggie was waiting for her on the other side. She reached out and gave Penny a hug.

     "Whatever happens, whatever you find, I'm here for you," Maggie said.

     Penny held her sister tight. "I know."

***

     It was almost three o'clock by the time Penny arrived at the outskirts of the devastation. She'd planned to arrive much earlier, but traffic had been worse than she'd imagined. She'd had to park her car a good two miles from her destination and make her way on foot. She was glad she'd stayed in shape all these years--for sixty-one, she was still pretty spry.

     She stared down the road in disbelief. The amount of wreckage strewn about was incredible. Splintered wood, roof tiles, and broken glass mingled with odd items, like bicycle tires, refrigerators, and chairs. It was as if God had taken a knife to the bellies of the homes and let their guts spill out onto the sidewalk and into the street.

     Uprooted trees had smashed through the sides of houses like medieval battering rams. A row of homes with caved-in roofs looked like deflated soufflés. A few homes had even been ripped from their foundations and reduced to rubble.

     The water was ankle deep where Penny stood, and looked even deeper down the street. She understood now why the authorities were telling people not to come back into this area yet: it wasn't safe. But she'd come this far, and she only had five more blocks to go.

     She moved carefully, picking her way past the remnants of her neighbors' homes. Debris floated past her down the flooded avenue--a broken skateboard, an old alarm clock, a headless Barbie doll, a ruined picture album. Each item told a story; each item held memories that were invaluable and irreplaceable.

     She continued down the road, her pace slow and deliberate. She kept on the lookout for downed power lines and any sharp objects that could do her harm. The hurricane had transformed the region into a treacherous obstacle course.

     The whole area was covered with grime and garbage, and the air smelled like an excavated landfill. She came across the rotting carcass of someone's pet--a large cat or a small dog--and the sight of it made her gag. She wondered how many people had stayed behind and wound up buried among these ruins. They'd be folks she knew, friends and neighbors. The thought made her queasy.

     I hope everyone got out. I'm so thankful that I followed the evacuation order.

     She'd spent the last few days at Maggie's place, several hours away from the heart of the storm. She and Maggie had listened to the news reports, seen the pictures on television, but nothing had prepared her for the experience of actually walking through the destruction. She pushed forward through the hellish maze of shattered lives and broken dreams, the filthy water sloshing beneath her as she pressed on.

     The neighborhood was dark and eerily quiet. The power was out, and what few houses remained intact were pitch-black inside. It could be days before cleanup efforts reached this section of town. As far as she could tell, she was the only living soul in the area. Maggie had practically begged her not to go in alone, but she just couldn't wait any longer. She had to see with her own eyes what had become of her beautiful house.

     It meant so much to her. She'd cut corners and saved every nickel so that she could buy it. It hadn't been easy, especially on a teacher's salary, but three years ago she'd achieved her goal and purchased the house of her dreams. The location was perfect: a well-kept, upper-middle-class neighborhood, just a few blocks from the beach. With three bedrooms and two bathrooms, it was bigger than what she needed but exactly what she wanted. The extra space was handy when friends and family came to visit.

     Over the last few years she'd spent every spare dime making it her own--hardwood floors throughout, granite countertops in the kitchen, a crystal chandelier for the dining room. She'd fussed over every detail, from the blue-velvet sofa in the living room, to the white-and-gold tile in the master bathroom.

     As she continued down the road, she prayed that somehow her house had been spared. She'd heard of things like that. It was possible. She kept moving and held onto the hope that her house was waiting for her, just the way she'd left it. One more block to go, then she'd reach Beacon Ave. Her place was two down from the corner.

     The closer she got to Beacon, the more uneasy she felt. There was less filthy water in the street, but the destruction seemed to be getting worse. The house on the corner was in shambles, and an SUV lay upside down in the middle of the lawn. On the other side of the road, a small pickup truck had been crushed beneath a telephone pole.

     She rounded the corner and made her way down the sidewalk toward her lot. When she finally arrived at her address, her worst fears were confirmed: her home was gone. Just gone. Nothing but a pile of wreckage atop a cement slab. Tears filled her eyes as the magnitude of the situation sank in. Everything she'd worked so hard for had been decimated.

     Penny walked through the ruins, too upset to worry about broken glass and rusty nails. She quickly realized that it wasn't the loss of the building that hurt so much. It was the loss of all the treasures that she could never replace--the porcelain dolls she'd brought back from Russia, the antique cedar chest that had once belonged to her grandmother, the old wedding photos of her long-dead parents. Those things were gone, and she'd never get them back. She fell to her knees in the mess and ruin. She buried her head in her hands and wept.

     She felt overwhelmed by sadness, as if the hurricane were still raging inside her. But after a few moments of deep sorrow, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. She'd been through hard times before, and she knew she had the strength to get through this. She picked herself up off the ground, wiped the tears from her eyes, and walked away with determination in her heart.

 

        The End                           

    

Reviews

[Pryde Foltz]

She stared down the road in disbelief. The amount of wreckage strewn about was incredible. Splintered wood, roof tiles, and broken glass mingled with odd items, like bicycle tires, refrigerators, and chairs. It was as if God had taken a knife to the bellies of the homes and let their guts spill out onto the sidewalk and into the street.
Uprooted trees had smashed through the sides of houses like medieval battering rams. A row of homes with caved-in roofs looked like deflated soufflés. A few homes had even been ripped from their foundations and reduced to rubble.

This is really quite well-written. But I want to bring particular attention to your use of metaphor and simile. Quite like the first one and second isn't half bad, but being that they are so close together it becomes too much and verges on a mixed metaphor. In my opinion the God metaphor is the one to use continue this on. What did God do to the side of the house?

[Seth Durham]

Thanks for taking the time to read the story, and for the feedback. It is much appreciated.

[Marie]

Great description of this tragic devestation. So many people ost so much. But Penny still had her life, and that's the most important thing. I'm glad it ended on such a hopeful note.

[Seth Durham]

Thanks for reading it, Marie. You hit on the real message of the story: bad things happen that are out of our control, but we can choose to be thankful for what we have and move forward.