The Great Adventure

The Old Man walked down the porch steps and out on to the flooded street. Somehow the water seemed deeper than it had been a few minutes ago. He must be imagining it, he thought. He wondered if maybe he should have listened to Joyce’s bones. Or at least to her cards. But then, even if he believed her, what was he to do? Getting supplies for a couple of days, just in case, still seemed like a good idea. Tabitha whined as he splashed his way through the muddy water and down the street. Tabitha was dying to go with him but she was tied up on the porch so that she couldn’t follow him. She always went with the Old Man wherever he went, but not this time.

“Just in case somethin’ don’t go right I’ll leave her here,” the Old Man had said to Joyce. So there Tabitha sat, on the porch, and stared and stared at the Old Man until he rounded a corner and was out of sight. She then let out a long sigh and lay down with her head between her paws. But only for a minute. She was still too nervous about something so she got up.

Peewee, meanwhile, sat on the railing with a concerned look on his little face. He was still staring at something in the distance, at something in that other world that only cats know, and he didn’t seem to like what he saw. Maybe the Old Man should have listened to Peewee too.

The Old Man hadn’t been gone for long when the news started to spread through the neighborhood. The buzz was that maybe it was still a good idea to go to the Superdome. But then there were rumors it was damaged and the Convention Center was the place to go. People who had battery powered radios said that things were looking bad, that there was news that some levees had broken and that neighborhoods might get flooded as the water rose. Some already were.

“Ya’ll coming?” a neighbor asked Joyce. “We can go together.”

“I can’t,” said Joyce, “I got to wait for the Old Man and take care of his critters. They don’t allow no critters in them evacuation places.”

“Suit yerself,” answered the neighbor, “but they’s sayin’ mebbe things are gonna get real bad.”

The neighbors hadn’t been gone for too long, maybe an hour, when the water began to rise fast. By then Joyce was, as far as she could tell, pretty much the only one left around. She was in her house tidying up when she first noticed it. There was a flow of brown water slowly trickling in under her front door.

“What the...?” was all she could think of saying as she went to the door. She pulled the door open and suddenly she was standing in an inch deep stream of water. That shocked her, but not as much as what she saw outside. The water had risen so much that all the floors of the all the porches in the neighborhood were under water. The houses now looked like boats floating on a lake. She had known this would happen, she had. But she hadn’t wanted to believe it because it had seemed too crazy and impossible. But now it was very clear to her. Cards never lie.

A desperate whimper jolted Joyce out of her shocked stupor. Tabitha was still tied up on the Old Man’s porch, and the water was up to her knees and rising. Peewee still sat on the railing next to Tabitha, but now there was an utterly panicked look on his face. Tabitha listlessly whimpered and walked to this side and that, pulling at her leash as her feet splashed in the water. Both animals sensed the great danger they were in, but had no idea what to do about it.

Joyce was paralyzed with fear. What to do? What to do? She didn’t know if she could make it to the Old Man’s house. She couldn’t swim. And at the bottom of the porch steps the water must have been chest deep. And it was visibly rising. What if she slipped?

The desperate situation Tabitha was in made up Joyce’s mind. If the dog wasn’t unleashed she would definitely drown. Joyce plunged down the steps and into the dirty brown water. Either she would rescue the poor dog, or she would drown trying.

She didn’t have far to go, but Joyce struggled through the water which was high on her chest and getting uncomfortably close to her neck. She was no longer young and it was difficult going. Underneath the water the bottom was muddy and slippery and strewn with all the debris the hurricane had thrown around.

The two houses were separated by just a few feet. It was here, in the gap between the two houses, that there was no porch banister for Joyce to hold on to. As she labored her way between the houses, reaching for the railing on the Old Man’s porch, she tripped on a big branch and lost her footing. Before she knew what had happened Joyce’s head was under water. Luckily she fell forward and automatically threw her arms in front of her. As she desperately thrashed around trying to stay afloat her hands felt the edge of the Old Man’s porch. Instinctively she grabbed it.

Tabitha watched as Joyce struggled to get to her. The dog was becoming ever more frightened as the water inexorably rose, yet she trusted that that Joyce was going to help her. But when Joyce suddenly disappeared under the water, Tabitha became utterly panicked and started to frantically chew her lead. Water now covered her chest. Peewee still sat, as if frozen, on the railing. He was now crying in that mewing way cats do.

Flailing, spitting and coughing, Joyce, with difficulty, pulled herself out of the filthy water. The water was now almost up to both her and Tabitha’s neck. She knew that if the water rose any more, both of them would drown. But for a minute or two she was too exhausted to do anything but shake and cough and sputter and hold on to the railing. It couldn’t be helped. She was too old for this sort of thing.

“Just hang on ma'am, we’re coming,” Joyce thought she heard someone say. Joyce thought she was hallucinating.

“Just stay there and hang on,” repeated the voice.

Joyce turned around to see two uniformed men in a small boat with an outboard motor. They were only about a few dozen feet away, and approaching. Joyce hung on, but was still coughing too much to be able to say anything. Peewee, sensing the boat meant good news, excitedly ran back and forth along the porch railing. Tabitha momentarily ceased her chewing, and cocked her head slightly as she observed the approaching boat. In the excitement nobody noticed that the water was no longer rising.

“Climb right in, I’ll give you a hand,” said one of the uniformed men, as he pulled Joyce out of the water and into the boat. This wasn’t so hard because Joyce was one of those skinny little people who seem to shrink as they get older.

The men then brought the boat a little closer to the porch and one of them leaned over and undid Tabitha’s leash. They then turned the boat around and started to leave.

“Wait! We can’t leave the critters!” Joyce choked out between a cough and a sputter.

“Sorry ma'am, but those are our orders,” said one of the uniformed men, “no pets, no exceptions.”

“No, no, you can’t, you can’t,” Joyce cried, and tears welled in her eyes and came down her cheek and she chocked up and began to sob.

“I’m really sorry ma'am, but there is nothing I can do,” was all the uniformed man could say. He really did feel bad about the situation, but orders are orders.

Peewee and Tabitha looked on in stunned silence as the little boat slowly floated away. Peewee was still on the railing, leaning on one elbow in his John Wayne pose. Tabitha, standing in the water, cocked her head at Joyce’s weeping sounds, staring and staring until the boat disappeared.