Page 86 of Hurricane Love

“Yeah. Hey listen,” Diego said with his serious face on. “I know now’s not the time, but I was hoping sometime while you’re here, we might be able to talk, just you and me?”

Wylie searched his face, trying to determine if this was going to be a good sort of talk or an I’ve-changed-my-mind-and-I’m-thinking-about-ending-it kind of talk.

“Yeah, sure,” Wylie said, keeping it light because now was indeed not the time. The wind picked up then, gusty and erratic, reminding them they were on deadline. Storms like these could be fun and exciting, or they could be completely terrifying and catastrophic. Wylie hoped this one leaned more toward the fun side.

“Fucking Marshall,” Wylie said.

“Yeah, fuck that guy,” Diego agreed with a shake of his head.

As the first drops of rain began to fall, Wylie predicted that the storm was only the start of what was coming.

The first couplehours were fine. They walked the dogs around the block and let them do their business outside while taking in the state of the neighborhood. All of the apartments in Diego’s complex had been boarded up, and some of his neighbors were outside milling about, waiting for the storm–drinking beeror smoking cigarettes or messing around on their phones. A couple of kids were kicking a half-deflated soccer ball around the concrete parking lot. They wanted to greet the dogs, and Wylie let them pet the friendly ones.

The wind was gusty, whipping up leaves and plastic bags and whatever random trash was littered about. When the sky turned the color of ash and a light sheet of rain began to fall, they headed inside. Their phones were charged and Diego had stocked up on candles, canned goods, and bottled water, all lined up on the counter in preparation. He’d helped Frank board up the pit yesterday along with Frank’s and his mother’s homes–they were all riding out the storm with one of the Tías who lived inland. They’d wanted Diego and Wylie to join them, but Diego was adamant about caring for the animals.

Swoon.

Toward the evening the wind started to really pick up, and some of the dogs began to keen lowly, as if knowing the storm was approaching. Diego turned on his battery-operated radio so they could hear updates. The seas were steadily rising and the warning to take shelter played on repeat in between the wind speed and surf updates. They sat at Diego’s small dinette and played Rummy while listening to the wind get progressively louder, the rain now coming down in steady sheets.

When the wind started howling, Diego took to checking on the animals, trying to soothe those that were frightened, cuddling the ones who were small enough to be let out of their kennels. Some of them had been medicated and were now asleep, according to their owners’ wishes. At one point, Diego had five cats climbing on him. Of course, Wylie had to take a picture.

As the wind outside grew stronger, the door began to shake on its hinges and the one window rattled, even underneath the plywood covering. The lights flickered and then went out, which meant the power was out and probably wouldn’t come back on until long after the storm was over. Diego lit a few candles just so they wouldn’t have to sit in the pitch darkness.

“They’re saying it might reach a Cat 5,” Wylie told him, even though Diego probably heard the update already. Wylie was thinking about Sunset Village. Mobile homes and trailers never fared well in storms like these, not with the winds reaching 15o mph or more and the storm surge flooding the land, not to mention the spontaneous tornadoes that came along with the winds. Most of the residents didn’t have more than their homes and belongings to their name. Some of them didn’t even have family members they could rely on.

“Going to be a lot of damage,” Diego said, echoing his fear. “But everyone is safe. We made sure of that. Things can always be replaced, right?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Wylie said and tried to focus on that.

They locked up the animals and checked in with Hannah and Nancy as the night wore on. Texts were still going through even with the spotty service. The power was out at the Budget Inn as well, and the residents were just as concerned about what damage might be done to their homes, but everyone was safe. It was a good thing that they’d evacuated, everyone agreed.

Around 9 p.m., the howling wind became a shriek so loud that they had to yell just to hear each other. The candles burned out, so they relied on a battery-operated lantern. The building shook with every round of high winds and the rain beat unendingly against the roof. Wyle recalled pictures of post-hurricane damage where trees had been ripped out by their roots and roofs were blown off of buildings with the people inside sucked right out of their homes and tossed about. He cursed his own ability to recall such things; it was only heightening his fear and anxiety by imagining the worst. They had done everything they could to prepare for this storm. Hopefully it was enough.

“Bathroom,” Diego shouted and began gathering up the pillows and blankets from his bed. He must have decided that was the safest place for them to be, since it was the most interior part of the building. They’d forgotten the lantern in the bedroom so they blindly piled bedding into the shower stall, then climbedin to hunker down. Wylie sat wedged between Diego’s knees as the man gripped him tightly in a bear hug.

It felt as though the building might be ripped from its foundation at any moment, and it was only Diego’s arms keeping him from getting sucked into the void. The wind was all that they could hear, their focus simply on getting through it.

And then the wind began to die down, the building stopped shaking, and they could hear the animals whimpering and keening again. The stillness was eerie, like a breath held in the middle of chaos.

“Is it over?” Diego asked.

“No, I think this is just the eye of it,” Wylie said. “Should we go outside for a minute? Look around?”

Diego hesitated, probably trying to decide if it was safe enough to leave the shelter of the bathroom. “Okay, but if it’s crazy out there, we lock the door and come right back in here.”

“Deal.”

They climbed out of their DIY bunker and felt their way along the wall for the door. Wylie waited in the hallway while Diego grabbed the lantern from the bedroom and then they made their way to the front door. How long might the calm might last? Ten minutes? Fifteen?

Outside they saw that the other residents must have had the same idea and were standing in the parking lot or along the concrete breezeway, many of them looking as shell-shocked and shaky as Wylie felt. The woman next door was sucking on a cigarette as if it might be her last, and the two kids who’d been kicking the ball earlier were now clinging to her legs for dear life.

“Valeria, you all right?” Diego asked her. “Need anything?”

“We’re okay. Thanks again for helping with the window. Fuck, but that wind was loud.” She glanced down quickly as if she hadn’t meant to say the f-word. The kids just stared back at her with wide eyes.

“Yeah, and it’s not over yet, so don’t stay out here for too long,” Diego said.

“No, I won’t. Just needed some fresh air.”