Before the Storm (46 page)

palms up. “He needed to feel powerful and looked up to. He

loved being a hero. Maybe he—”

“How can you even think that?” he asked.

I looked across the room at the man I’d mistrusted for the

last fifteen years. “Because,” I said, “today I learned that I don’t

know a thing about the people that I love.”

THE UNIVERSE WOULD HAVE TO PICK THIS night for a storm.

I parked on a side street at the northern end of the Island. The

rain sounded like nails hitting the roof of my car. The houses

were dark: people must have gotten the word about the

weather and stayed away from the beach. That was totally fine

with me. The darker and emptier, the better.

“Where are we?” Andy asked when I made no move to get

out of the car.

“We’re near The Sea Tender.
You
know. We’ve driven past

it a couple of times.”

“The circle house where I lived when I was a baby?”

“When you were little, yes. That’s the house. We’re going

to stay there tonight. It’ll be fun.”

408

diane chamberlain

“Cool,” Andy said. He peered into the dark rain. “Where is

it?”

“Just a short walk away.” It didn’t seem as though it would

stop raining anytime soon, so I grabbed the flashlight and a

trash bag I’d filled with clothes for each of us, along with

Andy’s iPod. “We’re going to have to get wet.” I opened the

door, hanging on to the handle to keep the wind from tearing

it from my hands. The ocean roared in my ears as if I’d parked

right on the beach.“Be careful getting out!” I shouted, too late.

The wind grabbed Andy’s door and he went sprawling onto

the sandy side of the road. He got up, laughing. He was

clueless. About tonight. About tomorrow.

I was practically blinded by the rain as I walked around the

car to help him shut the door. The wind was like a living being,

pushing the door toward us. It spooked me, like we weren’t

alone out there. Everything I was doing spooked me, but I had

to do it. This wouldn’t be the first crazy thing I’d done. I

wished Mom had told me how bad things were! I would have

done something sooner. Made a better plan.
Something.
Tomorrow, Andy was supposed to sit through a hearing he could

never understand that could lead to him being locked up and

the key thrown away. I would
not
let that happen. I hadn’t

thought things through past tomorrow, but if they couldn’t find

Andy for the hearing, they couldn’t lock him up. That was all

that mattered.

“Can you carry the food?” I shouted, handing him a brown

paper bag I’d filled with bread and peanut butter and fruit.

There was nearly a case of bottled water in the cottage. That

would last us through tonight and tomorrow. “Hold the top

closed so everything doesn’t get soaked,” I said as he took the

before the storm

409

bag from my hand. I swung the garbage bag over my shoulder

and we started walking toward The Sea Tender.

“I can’t see
anything!
” Andy said.

“We’re almost there.” I could hardly make out one house

from another. I squeezed my eyes nearly closed to keep out the

wind.

We walked right past the narrow boardwalk that led to the

house and had to backtrack.

“Come on,” I said, turning onto the boardwalk. “Stay close

to me.”

We reached the puny dune in front of the house. Even in

the darkness, I could see the waves crashing into each other as

they raced toward the beach. I shone the flashlight toward the

sand below The Sea Tender. Something was different, and it

took me a moment to realize that the silvery glow in the beam

of my flashlight was not sand at all but swirling water. The

ocean churned around the pilings of the cottage, tossing foam

and spray up to the deck. I’d never seen the water so high on

this beach. I didn’t want to let Andy know how it freaked me

out.

“The rain is biting me!” Andy shouted.

“It’s the sand blowing.” The sand stung my face and hands.

“Come on,” I said, jumping down the sharp angle of the dune.

“This bag’s—” The wind cut off whatever Andy said, and I

didn’t ask him to repeat it. I was too busy reminding myself

that the cottage had survived dozens of hurricanes and plenty

of nor’easters. It would survive this one, too.

I found the cinder block and moved it into place beneath

the front stairs.“I’ll go up first, then I’ll help you up,” I shouted.

It took me three tries to throw the heavy trash bag onto the

410

diane chamberlain

little front deck. Then I climbed on the block and hoisted

myself onto the steps.

“I can do that,” Andy shouted. “I don’t need help.”

“Okay, hand me the bag of food.”

He lifted it toward me, and I grabbed the top edge of the

bag. It was soggy and before I could get a better grip, the wind

ripped it from my hands, spilling everything onto the wet

beach.

“I’ll get it all, don’t worry, Maggie!” He scrambled around

on the sand, the wind tossing the loaf of bread in the air like

it was made out of feathers.

“I’ll be down in a sec, Panda!” I shouted. I unlocked the door

and tossed the trash bag into the house. Then I jumped off the

deck, and together we picked up as much of the food as we

could find.

Once we were both up on the deck, Andy made me shine

my flashlight on the sign.

“Condem-ned,” he read.

“Condemned,” I shouted. “When we were kids, Hurricane

Fran demolished a lot of the island.”

“I know that,” Andy yelled back at me. “I learned it. And

condemned
means
keep out,
but we’re not going to keep out.”

“You’ve got it,” I said. I pushed the door open again and

ducked under the sign.

“Are we doing a bad thing?” Andy asked as he walked into

the living room. His tennis shoes squeaked on the floor, and I

knew he was twisting his feet to make them squeak louder.

I picked up a second flashlight from the kitchen counter.

“Here’s one for you.” I handed it to him. “About this being a

bad thing, some people will think so, but I don’t.”

before the storm

411

“Will Mom?” Andy turned the flashlight on and off, shining

it in my face.

“Stop that.” I pushed it away. “You’re blinding me.”

“Sorry. Will Mom think this is bad?”

“There’s a bunch of candles all around this room. Let’s light

them and then I’ll answer your question.” I handed him a box

of matches.

“Can I use my lighter?” He reached into his pocket and I

shone my flashlight on the green lighter in his hand.

“You still have that thing? I thought the security people at

the airport took it away from you.”

“This is a different one.”

My baby brother had some rebel in him after all. “Why?” I

asked.“Are you still smoking?” I thought I’d smelled smoke on

him a few days ago, but since the night of the fire, the whole

world smelled like smoke to me.

“Don’t tell Mom,” he said.

“I won’t. But it’s so bad for you, Panda Bear. I wish you

wouldn’t.”

“I lied to Mom,” he admitted.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve done some of that myself.”

“I told her I didn’t suck smoke into my chest, but I do.”

“Great for your asthma.” I lit one of the candles on the

counter.

“I like to make it come out of my nose.”

I tried to picture him smoking. “Where do you smoke?” I

asked. He was always supervised, really. We’d smell it if he

smoked at home and he sure couldn’t do it at school.

“I do it when I’m hanging in with my friends on the days I

don’t ride home with you.”

412

diane chamberlain

“Hanging out,” I corrected him. I pictured him waiting for

the bus with other kids from school, kids he thought of as his

friends but who probably bummed cigarettes off him and

called him names behind his back.

“If a fire started in this house, I could jump out this window

onto those boards out there.” He shone his flashlight through

one of the living room windows onto the back deck.

“Right,” I said. “And there’s a door in the kitchen we could

use to get out on the deck, too.”

“Deck, I mean. Not boards.”

He sounded embarrassed by his mistake. “It’s okay,” I said.

“I knew what you meant. And decks are made out of boards,

so you were technically correct.”

“We have a big deck at home.”

“Yes, we do.”

“When do we go home?”

I set out the food on the kitchen counter. “We’ll stay here

tonight, and then decide what to do tomorrow.” I opened the

bag of bread. “You want some bread and peanut butter?” I

asked. I should have figured out a way to bring the pizza with

us. What would Mom think when she saw the whole pizza on

the counter?

“Okay.”

In the candlelight, he watched me spread peanut butter on

two slices of bread. I handed one to him.

We sat on the couch together facing the dark window, eating

the bread and peanut butter and drinking from bottles of

water. “The ocean’s out there,” I said. It was so dark and we

were up so high that I couldn’t see the white froth of the

waves.

before the storm

413

“I know that. I’m not an imbecile.”

“Good word, Panda,” I said.

We munched our bread in silence for a while. I kept imagining how Mom would feel when she walked into the house

to discover Andy wasn’t there. I’d dumped all the stuff about

Daddy on her when her day had been crap to begin with.

Then she had to drive home in the wind and rain worrying

about tomorrow and then discover that her children had disappeared. There were two voices in my head, one telling me

to let her know we were okay, the other telling me to keep

quiet. My tattoo burned into my hip every time I thought of

her worrying.

“I’m going to call Mom and let her know we’re okay,” I said

when I’d finished eating. I got his iPod out of the trash bag and

handed it to him. Then I checked my phone. No bars at all.

Weird. I could usually get reception in the cottage. The storm,

probably. I wondered if Ben had been trying to call me. I didn’t

want to think about Ben. That would totally mess me up right

now.

Andy’s phone was on the counter, but he had no reception

either. I pictured Mom growing more frantic by the minute.

Why why why had I told her about Daddy? I had such a mean

side to me. I’d wanted to turn the tables on her. Get her off

my back about Ben.

“Andy, I’m going out on the deck because I can’t get a

phone signal inside.”

“Okay.” He didn’t look up from his iPod.

On the deck, I had to grab the railing to keep my balance

in the wind. Even if I could get a signal—which I couldn’t—

I’d never be able to hear her. I’d have to call from my car.

414

diane chamberlain

In the kitchen again, I tore a hole for my head in the trash

bag and put it on like a poncho.

“Be back in a few minutes, Andy,” I said, glancing at the

candles scattered around the room to make sure they were

burning safely. Just what we needed was my brother in another

fire.

I made it to the car, but still had no signal, so I started

driving. There was water on the road and I drove very slowly,

afraid of skidding into the sand. Getting stuck. What if something happened to me and Andy was left alone at The Sea

Tender?
Oh God,
I told myself.
Stop thinking that way!

I didn’t see a single light in any of the houses and knew the

power was out. I was all the way to the huge condominium

building, Villa Capriani, before I got a signal. I had three

messages from Mom. She sounded scared to death, her voice

shaking, and I knew I was making the right decision to call her.

I pulled into Villa Capriani’s nearly deserted parking lot and

dialed my mother’s cell number.

“Maggie! Where
are
you?” She sounded so bad. I knew she’d

been crying. I should have called earlier or at least left her a

note.

“I’m just calling to let you know Andy and I are fine,” I said.

“We’re perfectly safe.”

“Where are you, Maggie? What are you doing?”

“I can’t tell you. I just wanted you to know that we’re fine.”

“She won’t say,” Mom said to someone.

“Who’s there?” I was afraid it was the police.

“Maggie?” It was Uncle Marcus on the phone now. “What’s

going on? Are you with Ben?”

“No,”
I said. Oh God. So now Uncle Marcus knew about Ben

before the storm

415

and me, too. “He doesn’t know anything about this, so leave

him out of it. I just wanted to let Mom know that Andy and I

are fine.”

“Why are you doing this?” he asked. “Come home.You’re

only going to make things worse, babe.”

“How could they get any worse?” I asked. “Can you picture

Andy in a jail cell without bail? Waiting a year for a trial, like

you said? Getting picked on and maybe beaten up and maybe

raped by the other prisoners? And not really getting it?” My