Child of the Storm (32 page)

Two days after the passing of Hurricane
Georges, Celeste rode in to work with Gabrielle, just to pay a visit. As it
happened, George was paying a visit as well, and he had his map with him,
spread out on an unused table. He was bent over it with pencil, rule and a fat,
red pen. Celeste came up beside him, shaking her head and clicking her tongue
reproachfully.

“
Looks like his poor wife sent him out
of the house for the day to let her get a little peace,
”
she said to Gabrielle over his back as
he finished drawing his line and marking it in red.

“
Didn
’
t I hear that you
’
ve been tracking the hurricanes on some
map?
”
Gabrielle asked him.
“
Would this be it?
”

“
Ever since Betsy,
”
he said straightening himself, one
fist dug into the small of his back. He groaned a bit.
“
I knew a man who showed me how to plot
the location of a storm from the coordinates they send out; those who track
them from planes. So I
’
ve put down the path of any that looked
like they might hit New Orleans. There
’
ve been a few since
Betsy.
”
He pointed to the neat pencil lines on
the map, clearly labeled lines across the Gulf of Mexico. He called them out,
tracing each in its turn.

“
Start with the scariest first,
”
he said.
“
Camille in 1969. A wicked one that had
‘
em
all fooled for a while. Had most of them fooled, I should say.
”
His finger traced the line again from
where it started, but stopped a distance out from land. There was a red circle
around the spot.
“
This is where she finally turned north.
If she
’
d kept going on that line, or not been
turned when she was, we might have been hit, and hit hard. She might have wiped
us off the map.
”

“
We had a breather for a few years until
Carmen strolled across the Gulf, cut across the Yucatan Peninsula and turned
north. Looked like she was heading for us for a time.
”
He pointed to another red circle and
traced the path as it bent away west of New Orleans.
“
Turned away in time to miss us. Then
the next year, Eloise looked like she would do about the same thing. She was
down below hurricane strength when she ran into Mexico, but picked herself back
up as she turned north and made our way. See here? Went around us on the east
this time. Landed in between Fort Walton and Panama City.
”

He moved to another line.
“
This is Frederic. Same year you were
born; 1979. See?
”
He pointed to another red circle.
“
This is where he turned away from a
track that could have brought him in too close for comfort. Hit Alabama
instead. Nearly scrubbed Dauphin Island off at the water line.
”

Gabrielle traced the line herself, up
to the red circle.
“
Like it bounced off something in the
way.
”

“
And not something big either,
”
he said.
“
Just a little something.
”

Celeste clicked her tongue again but
said nothing.

“
But then it was quiet around here for
another number of years until 1985.
”
He followed a line
that slipped into the Gulf and headed in a direction toward New Orleans before
taking a sharp turn east toward Florida, only to loop back tightly and march
northwest again.
“
Elena. Strangest storm I
’
ve ever seen. All confused, and had
folks scrambling away from the coast and back again. She
’
d lost a lot of strength by the time
she ran aground near Biloxi.
”
He moved on.
“
Same year but late
—
November, along comes Kate. Sort of
followed Elena
’
s path, only this one cut back toward
Florida and landed there.
”
He tapped the red
circle drawn in on that path.
“
Might be a stretch to
have that one down here, but could be
—
could
be.
”

“
Could be what, Mr. Bledsoe?
”
Gabrielle asked.

George cranked around to see if Celeste
was paying attention, and found she was, and found he was being given a
cautionary look.

“
Could be some sort of phenomenon that
no one
’
s figured out,
”
he said, taking the hint.
“
That
’
s what my old friend
told me. Sometimes there
’
s just a phenomenon
involved.
”

“
He
’
s trying to say that
weather
’
s a complicated thing,
”
Celeste offered.

“
Andrew
’
s one I puzzle over
too,
”
George continued, squinting at Celeste,
but still speaking to Gabrielle.

“
Andrew tore through Florida,
”
Gabrielle offered.
“
That
’
s all I remember.
”

“
That
’
s so,
”
he said.
“
Then went on to hit the coast off west
of here.
”

“
Near where I was born,
”
Celeste said.
“
Not much out that way. Not much big.
”

“
Just had a sense I should be worried
about Andrew,
”
George said, turning back to the map.
“
Not sure why.
”

“
And what about Georges,
”
Gabrielle asked.
“
How does that one fit in?
”

George turned back to his chart,
bending over it to add the storm in, based on the numbers.
“
Not a big storm, but big enough to put
the fear into folks. Evacuation. But here he comes,
”
he said tracing Georges
’
path up to a point where he added a
neat red circle with his pen,
“
and away he
’
ll go. Probably to pitch a fit along the
Florida panhandle.
”

“
So we
’
ve been lucky, ever
since Betsy,
”
Gabrielle said.

“
Maybe luck and maybe not,
”
he said.

Celeste sighed and wandered off to view
the ovens.

More years passed and Celeste crossed
from one millennium to another. Gabrielle went off to Tulane across town, and
the spare room was spare again. Celeste figured it would likely stay that way,
at least on a regular basis. But she kept it ready for whenever Gabrielle had
need of it.

In the
Spring
of 2004, Gabrielle graduated, and Celeste was there to see. She started up a
little gallery in The Marigny; nothing
fancy
but not a
bad thing for a young woman to manage either, especially one not born and bred
of the city. Still, it wasn
’
t like Gabrielle had
moved across the wide country or even across the Lake to the North Shore.
Or away to England.
The Marigny was closer than the Quarter
—
almost on her doorstep.

Celeste slipped back comfortably into
her retirement, enjoying her seclusion, her painting and drawing, her awareness
of the city but also her need to detach for a time, whenever her sensitivity to
all that buzz of life began to drown out a private reflection. Sometimes just
sitting quietly at her table, flowing color across blank paper was enough to
close the door on all that energy knocking to get in. Sometimes she would find
that noise in her mind blocking her way to sleep, and she might rise to sit on
her dark porch, but times were different now. Her part of the city was feeling
the press of tough times, and that could bring out the better side of people,
but it could also do otherwise. Some nights she could feel a roaming
restlessness and anger from some young hearts, and she would stay inside to let
it pass by. Shifting a storm was best done early on and it was so with the
personal storms as well. Just a little nudge can do so much good early on in a
life. Wait too long and your work
is
cut out for you.

It had been some years since she
’
d had a serious wrestle with a storm
and she was happy for the change, but knew it couldn
’
t last.
“
Armed to the teeth
with experience,
”
she said to her mirrored self and
flashed those teeth that were still her own.
“
But warriors retire
sooner or later. One way or the other, and who takes their place?
”

A busy season to have such a late
start.
The oceans high and
low churned out children again and again, and some of those grew up to be big
deals while others just seemed aimless. Soon, Celeste paid more attention to
the air and even begged a ride up to the Lake so she could indulge an old
fondness for standing knee deep in the water and listening in, like someone
with keen ears off on the edge of a gallery full of stories.

August brought unusual guests to the
Gulf.
 
Bonnie dressed herself up
like a grownup with a mischievous eye but no legs or head for real work. She
found her way to Apalachicola, raining out and turning into a tornado tantrum.
Celeste followed her progress, but declined interference.

Charley crossed Cuba, pumped himself up
full of Gulf heat and got mean quick, turned like a flagged bull on Florida and
cut a long diagonal through her, making a run for the other shore and taking
aim on South Carolina as if something needed to be settled. Again, Celeste kept
still.

Earl was shy and confused, wandering
way off south like someone bullied until he went ghostlike across Mexico and
found an ocean more to his liking and changed his name to Frank. Celeste just
shook her head.

Frances crossed the
“
X
”
on Florida started
by her older brother Charley
—
crossed
it good and slow for emphasis, marking southeast to northwest. Tornados pelted
her dying path in numbers no other hurricane could boast.
 
But Celeste could read in Frances a doom
without need of assistance.

All of that after a late season start,
and they were only clear of August when something boiled up off of Africa with
grander ambitions. Ivan strode across warm Atlantic waters, taking up the crown
of Hurricane early on and holding his head high with it all the way into the
Gulf, barely noticing Cuba as he passed. There was a track line in the cards
that made Celeste wince, and she decided it was time to brush off the talent
and put it to work.

It was the end of a short retirement.

Her sense of Ivan built up, layer on
layer, and she laid down her watercolor impressions, seated at the kitchen
table now that she lived alone again.

She turned in and was soon asleep. The
bear was waiting for her, and they set to working a small but powerful
suggestion into the winds.

“
I do worry a bit extra over these big
sprawling storms,
”
Celeste said to the bear.
“
They just call for so much care in
keeping them at arms length.
”

“
You
’
ve always favored a
measured response,
”
said the bear.
“
Are you growing bolder with age? More
ambitious?
”
The tone sounded both cautionary and
encouraging. Ever true of the bear.

Celeste grimaced at the thought of
experimenting.
“
A little twist to the path and a pinch
out of his steam. Maybe just this once, and not too much.
”

Ivan did turn, just enough, and even weakened
before landfall, but had such a head of steam built up that he charged inland
clear up to the ridges of Birmingham. Little Clarence still lived in
Birmingham, all grown up now. She hated the thought she might have done harm to
him, especially if he wouldn
’
t have seen it
coming, and reminded herself again about the dangers in tinkering with well-connected
things.