The Great Adventure

One very warm Saturday night in late August, maybe a year or so after Tabitha came to stay, Peewee was lounging lazily on the Old Man’s lap. Joyce was sitting next to them on the sofa and, as usual, was playing with her cards. Tabitha, who was much too big to comfortably sit on anyone’s lap, and wasn’t allowed on to the sofa anyway, was curled up at their feet. Her ears were twitching as she listened to the jumble of voices coming from the television set competing with the sounds of the fan trying to stir up the heavy hot air and of the chirping of the insects outside. The Old Man and Joyce were watching television. Joyce didn’t have a television of her own so she often came over to watch the one at the Old Man’s house. Everything seemed peaceful enough to Peewee and Tabitha, but that was because they didn’t know that the news on the television was worrying.

“Mebbe you should go to the Superdome tomorrow,” suggested the Old Man to Joyce. “Might be a better place than here.”

Tabitha didn’t hear her name so she paid no attention.

The man on the television had been talking about the approaching hurricane, saying that the mayor wanted everyone who couldn’t leave to go to an evacuation center. Many people had left town already, but they all had cars. The Old Man and Joyce didn’t have one. All day yesterday and this morning they had tried to call Mississippi Sam, but they hadn’t been able to reach him. “Must be somewhere on the road,” the Old Man had muttered, “he ought to get him one of them little cell phones.”

“And if I go to the Superdome how come you don’t?” asked Joyce. The Old Man wasn’t sure if she just wanted to argue, but he answered anyway.

“‘Cause I can’t take my critters with me,” he replied. “Brenda went this morning with her blankets and food and all just like they said to do, but they wouldn’t let her bring Charlie in so she gave ‘em hell and told ‘em where to go.” Brenda was a neighbor from down the street who had a brown mutt named Charlie. “She’s back home now. She’s gonna ride it out.”

Peewee felt the Old Man’s lap tighten a little and he swished his tail as he looked up at him.

“Well you ain’t goin’ and I ain’t goin’,” said Joyce as she looked at some cards and then shuffled the deck. “It just ain’t in the cards, and if it ain’t then it ain’t.”

The Old Man wasn’t sure what that meant, but he knew that if Joyce thought something wasn’t in the cards then there was no way it was going to happen. And anyway at that moment Peewee, maybe feeling that all relaxation had by now gone from the lap, sat up and looked around for something to do. To his delight he spotted a big palmetto bug trying to sneak into the room. The ensuing commotion, which ended only when Peewee eviscerated the bug while Tabitha watched admiringly, ended the conversation.

Early the next day Tabitha sat on the porch and watched high gray clouds cross the sky. The air was very still. She always loved to just sit and ponder the weather as it went by. Later in the morning she and Peewee followed the Old Man around as he boarded up his windows with plywood and helped Joyce do the same. It was all very unusual and seemed like good fun. They couldn’t know that the news was growing ever more troubling. The hurricane that was coming was getting bigger and bigger by the hour. And it seemed like it was making a beeline straight for New Orleans.

“You sure you don’t wanna to go to the Superdome?” the Old Man asked Joyce. “that there storm sure looks a lot worse than it did yesterday.”

“I said it wasn’t in them cards,” replied Joyce. “And it ain’t the wind to worry about, least ways,” she added.

The Old Man was about to ask her what she meant and how she knew, but then thought the better of it. He knew there was no way he was going to win any argument or change Joyce's mind. He went back to his work and the animals happily followed and watched.

Even though the air in the boarded up house was hot and sultry, all evening Peewee and Tabitha had felt an electricity. They didn’t know what was happening but what they felt was the charged anticipation that occurs just before a hurricane. As Joyce and the Old Man sat on the sofa watching the news the animals played a spirited “spin the cat” on the living room floor. This was a game in which Peewee lay on his back and Tabitha would challenge him to swat her face by nuzzling him in the stomach. Whenever Peewee managed to connect with his claw it would stick to Tabitha’s long fur and she would move her head in a way that would spin the cat. But this time the game got a bit out of hand. Peewee’s claw connected with the tip of the dog’s nose. Tabitha yelped, as she always did when Peewee scratched her, but then proceeded to spin the cat faster and more aggressively. Peewee, not amused, bounced up and jumped on to the back of the sofa. Tabitha, chasing him, tried to follow but stopped dead when she remembered she wasn’t allowed on the couch.

It was just then that the wind and the rain started for real. The animals stopped suddenly and listened. The sounds of the weather were troubling but the television provided a nice comforting background buzz. They settled down, as usual Peewee on the sofa and Tabitha at the Old Man’s feet. They all watched scenes of reporters standing in the wind and the rain shouting into a very wet camera about the wind and the rain.

Peewee and Tabitha suspected something was different when Joyce didn’t go home that night. Joyce always went home. She went home after the eleven o’clock news or maybe after the late night show if she and the Old Man were staying up. But not this time. She stayed and stayed. The animals could tell because they got sleepier and sleepier until they couldn’t keep their eyes open anymore, and still Joyce stayed.

Very late at night the storm strengthened. Tabitha woke up with a start. She could hear all sorts of loud terrifying noises outside. The sounds on the television could hardly be heard now. Because the windows were all boarded up she couldn’t actually see anything. This made all the horrible noises seem that much more frightening. Peewee also began to sense that something very upsetting was happening. Neither animal had ever experienced a hurricane. They had no idea that thundering scary sounds that shook the whole house like this could ever happen.

Tabitha’s ears and tail came down. She whined and kept moving about, not being able to find a comforting place to rest. She looked at Joyce and at the Old Man hoping to find reassurance, but their obvious nervousness only made things worse. Peewee decided to run off and hide beneath the bathtub.

“It’s OK Tabitha, good dog,” said the Old Man as he petted her, but Tabitha only sensed the lack of conviction. That made her even more uneasy.

Even though they could now barely make out what anyone was saying, the Old Man and Joyce were glued to the flickering lights of the television set. Funny how comforting a television can be sometimes, thought the Old Man. He usually didn’t like television much at all. It wasn’t the real world, he would say, it just made you think it was. But it was odd how those same images on that same television set were now the real world. Or maybe their only link to it.

In the wee hours of the morning things got worse. The rain and the wind became really violent. The house shook and shuddered more than ever. And then suddenly, with no warning, the lights flickered and went dead. No more television. No more comforting pictures of reporters in raincoats bracing against the rain and the wind. No more news. No more link to the outside world. Only complete darkness.

The two humans and the two animals sat together in a gloom lit only by a hurricane lamp and some candles. They listened to the increasingly frightening sounds the storm made. And every time they thought it couldn’t get worse, that this was as bad as it was going to be, it got worse. The howling of the savage wind and the pounding of the relentless torrents of rain became louder and louder. The house shook more and more. Peewee had come out from under the tub hoping that maybe the Old Man’s lap was more comforting. It wasn’t. Tabitha was ever more listless. Still, the humans were glad for the shelter of the house, even if it was all boarded up and stuffy and sultry and gloomy and scary. For the animals it was worse because they couldn’t understand what was going on.

“I remember some hurricanes in my day, but this sounds different,” said the Old Man. “I wish I could see what’s a goin’ on out there.”

“Y’all be careful what y’all wish for,” replied Joyce.

And then, just at that moment, just as she said it, there was a loud explosion and the house shook violently. The candles blew out and suddenly it seemed like they were in the middle of the howling wind and the sheets of rain water, all of it pouring in through a gap in the roof.

Cats are much faster than other living beings at seeing what just happened. Especially if it is in the dark. Before anyone really understood anything, and way before they could figure what to do about it, Peewee screeched and yowled and bounced off of everything and everyone with sharp claws and then bounded off into the bathroom and hid way back under the tub.

Tabitha jumped up like only dogs can when they’re startled. She looked around with panicked eyes and through the dim light of one hurricane lamp she saw Peewee’s tail disappear into the bathroom. Frightened, and not knowing what else to do, she scurried off into the kitchen, which was still dry. She then shook herself vigorously, even though she wasn’t really that wet.

“How did Joyce know?” was the Old Man’s first thought. And then, “Now we’re just like them reporters,” flashed through his mind, “only I ain’t got no raincoat.”

After their initial shock wore off (it must have taken a minute or two), the Old Man and Joyce got up and surveyed the damage. It was hard to see in the dark house, but outside dawn had broken. A grey light trickled through the thick overcast and the gash in the roof. The hole seemed as if it wasn’t as big as they feared. The house had been so closed in and so stuffy that any sudden rush of outside air would have felt overwhelming. Nevertheless, the hurricane was still raging out there, and now the wailing of the wind seemed much too close for comfort. Water and wind were coming in through the gash, and the blinds were banging on the walls and papers were flying around.

“I guess the dawg’s right,” said Joyce. She had to shout because the noise from the wind was so loud. “The kitchen’s as good a place as any.”

The Old Man nodded. There was nothing they could do, so, with the help of the hurricane lamp, they fumbled their way into the kitchen and joined Tabitha. It was slightly quieter there. And dry. They stood there for a moment, lost in their thoughts. Peewee joined them, figuring that at the moment company was better than being alone, and sat on the table, his yellow eyes still looking shellshocked and a little miserable. Tabitha was sitting beneath him, looking worried and confused.

“It’s OK Tabs,” said Joyce loudly as she petted her.

Tabitha’s eyes showed she wasn’t convinced this was so.

“The worst be over,” Joyce said as soothingly as she could given that she had to speak so loud. She pulled up a chair and sat down. Peewee jumped into her lap. The Old Man also sat down, hoping Joyce was right and wondering (not for the first time) how come she always was.

They sat there at the kitchen table, the four of them, listening to the storm raging outside and leaking into the living room. One or two or more wretched hours passed, it was hard to say. Time always crawls when you are feeling miserable and things look hopeless. No one had a watch and the kitchen clock was dead because the electricity was out. The Old Man blew a note or two on his harmonica, but even that didn’t cheer anybody up.

Little by little the wind and the rain eased up. The hole in the roof helped them see that it was now daylight outside. Soon the wind ceased and the rain stopped. Both Peewee and Tabitha visibly relaxed.

“Seems quiet now. I suppose we may as well look ‘n see what's happened outside,” said the Old Man as he stood up.

Tabitha and Peewee followed him as he walked through his living room. It was a mess. There were things to pick up, the hole to patch up and wet stuff to dry out.

The Old Man, followed by his two companions and Joyce, picked up a hammer and went to the front door. He knocked off some pieces of wood that he had nailed there to help keep it shut in the wind. Watching him work comforted the animals. When he finally opened the door they were startled by the brilliant light that suddenly flooded into the house. The two animals and the two people blinked their eyes. As their eyes got accustomed to the light they looked around they noticed that it wasn’t really that it was so bright outside. They had just been used to the dimness of a boarded up house with no electricity. It was late morning and the sky was still grey, but the overcast was clearing, and here and there they could see a spot of blue. The air was heavy and humid and once the sun came out it promised to be a very hot day.

First Peewee, then Tabitha followed by the Old Man and Joyce, walked out onto the porch. They slowly looked around. They expected the worst, but as their gaze took in the porch, and Joyce’s house, and then the neighborhood, they were surprised. Sure, it was a mess. All sorts of things had been blown by the wind and they were strewn everywhere. Trees and fences and telephone poles were down. There was even a supermarket shopping cart lying on its side out in front of the porch. But the important thing was that the houses were all standing, and they didn’t seem to be too damaged.

The street was flooded with about half an inch of dirty muddy water, but that made sense. It had rained a lot and the drains were probably backed up. Everything was pretty quiet because most of the neighbors had gone off to spend the night at the Superdome. The few that had remained were slowly emerging from their houses; some seemed relieved, some looked shocked, but everyone was OK.

“Now what?” asked the Old Man. It was the kind of question that doesn’t really expect an answer. Tabitha lay down next to him and gave out a loud sigh. Maybe now she could finally relax. “At least it be over,” he added.

“Well I don’t think it ain’t” replied Joyce shuffling her cards. She often shuffled cards when there didn’t seem to be anything else to do.

“Why you always arguin’?” replied the Old Man. “Look, the sun’s coming out.”

“Sun’s got nothin’ to do with it,” retorted Joyce, “I’m tellin’ ya I feel it in my bones.”

“You just gettin’ old in your bones, is what it is,” said the Old Man.

“It ain’t just the bones,” answered Joyce.

“I don’t wanna hear about no cards,” said the Old Man.

“Well you better listen to them cards ‘cause they says somethin’ bad’s about to happen,” replied Joyce. She never understood why the Old Man always fought with her over what anybody with two good eyes could see was true. “Besides,” she added, “you listen to them animals.”

“I don’t hear no animals sayin’ nothin,” said the old man.

“That’s what I mean,” answered Joyce.

The Old Man looked around. The damage was done and nothing seemed threatening anymore. Because of the water in the street no one seemed to want to leave their porch (everybody had a porch in this neighborhood). He didn’t blame them. Who wants to walk in that muck? He decided that sometimes Joyce just spooked him for the fun of it, so he made up his mind to think a little about what to do next. He didn’t notice that Peewee was staring very intently into the distance. Peewee had that look of unyielding total concentration that cats have when they gaze into the other world. And he didn’t notice that Tabitha had decided she really couldn’t relax after all. For a minute she first stared at something in the distance and just ever so slightly cocked her head. Then she became agitated and paced and whined.

The Old Man ignored the animals (he reckoned they were still upset because of the very scary night they had just lived through) and after a few minutes of thinking he figured out what he should do.

“I think I should go down and see if I can get some things at the store,” he declared, “you know, supplies and food and stuff. There ain’t no tellin’ how long the icebox’ll be out ‘cause of the electricity. And maybe I can git some news down there.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” asked Joyce, “you know I’m still worried about what’s a coming down”. She couldn’t really say what was bothering her, other than that it was a vague fear that the worst wasn’t over yet.

“The longer I wait the more stuff they’re going to be running out of,” pointed out the Old Man.

Joyce had to admit that the Old Man had a point. You never knew how long it would be before things returned to normal. And the shopping street was only a few blocks away anyway.

“Ya’ll be careful, you hear?” she said. She just couldn’t shake that feeling of vague fear.