“That’s low country there, you know. If you find yourself ass-deep in alligators and you need to move, the ridge is right behind you and there are lots of roads to take you up. ”
“That’s . . . almost completely unhelpful, given the situation. But I’ll take it under consideration. ”
“I’m only trying to help,” I said.
“I know. I know, and I’m sorry. But I’m only trying to keep myself and your brother from drowning—and do keep in mind, there’s a lot of other trouble he’s capable of getting into. ”
“Okay, well, good luck. Look, I’ve got to call Lu and Dave. Keep me posted, would you?”
“I’ll try. ”
We hung up, and I was looking to dial Lu back when a policeman pushed his way inside and hollered for everyone’s attention. He then began to give evacuation orders, and people started arguing with him before he got the first sentence all the way out of his mouth. The chaos grew so dense I almost dropped the phone. I only held on to it by virtue of a death grip and total stubbornness.
“We can’t stay here,” Becca condensed and repeated the cop’s message. “They’re going to make us leave. ”
“To go where?’” Jamie asked before I could.
“No one gets out, no one gets in; what do they think is going to happen here? Where are we supposed to go?” I took another push to the hip and went face-first against the window, which clanked but held. “But no, we can’t stay here. ”
“What’s happening?” Jamie asked, not really expecting an answer, but sensing a new bleakness and urgency to the officer’s mood. “He’s talking about evacuating to higher ground, and talking about roofs. That’s crazy; it won’t get that high, will it? Could it?”
“I don’t know,” I said, but he didn’t hear me and it didn’t matter. I wasn’t looking at him anymore. I was looking back through the window, where my face had left a greasy imprint on the glass. On the other side of the cheek-shaped smudge, out on the street in the rain, I saw someone and knew that nobody else did.
The neighborhood kids called him Catfood Dude because there was a rumor that he’d eat cat food if you gave it to him. He was half homeless, or maybe more than half; and I had always gotten the distinct impression that he was in need of brain-chemical-modifying meds. He chattered to himself and didn’t ever bathe, and he’d do anything stupid on a dare for a dollar. His hair was tangled up in dreads, but not the cool kind that trustafarians cultivate.
For the first time since I’d been aware of his existence, he was looking me square in the eyes. He wasn’t twitching and he wasn’t fretting in that worrisome way that made people on the sidewalks move away from him.
The cop was trying to urge people outside. Without saying a word to Jamie or Becca, I let him herd me around the frame and out the door. As he held it, water came spilling in over the sandbags, but the sandbags were less than useless and we all could see it.
My friends called out to me, but over the din I could pretend I hadn’t heard them. Catfood Dude had something to say and I wasn’t doing anything useful there in the ‘Friar anyway. “All right,” I told him as I pushed my way outside. “All right, what have you got for me?”
It won’t be long now, he said.
“What? What won’t be long now?” Another couple of people trickled and tripped out of the clogged coffeeshop behind me. It was almost better, out there in the rain. You could see the sky at least, you weren’t packed against other people like crayons, and the water didn’t mean much. Everything was wet anyway. What was a little more?
“Eden!”
It was Jamie, behind me now, leaving Becca back inside and forbidding her to follow. I don’t know why she obeyed, but she stayed there, watching from the other side of the glass while he kicked a sandbag over and joined me.
“Go back in there,” I told him. I realized I was still holding my cell phone, but the water wasn’t as bad, tapering off at least for a while. It was coming up fast from the ground level, but the sky was giving us a break. I twisted the phone in my fingers, wondering what to do next.
“Forget it,” he told me. “What’s going on? What are you doing?”
“Trying to sort some things out. There’s not anything you can do to help. Just go back. Take care of Becca. I don’t need any help. ”
“Where will you go? You’re not getting back up to the mountain. ”
“I know, I know, but . . . I don’t know. ”
“Now you’re just—”
“Drop it. I have some things to take care of. ” Catfood Dude was watching patiently, waiting for me to finish. I’d never seen him hold still for so long, and I didn’t trust it.
The pigs are right. Everyone should go. It isn’t safe.
Behind us there was more commotion, more shouting, and Becca squeezed around the door to join us. “Let’s go home,” she urged, taking Jamie’s arm in a way that wasn’t whiny so much as insistent. “My place. I live up on top of the hill. ” She pointed up Fourth Street and I nodded. It would probably be the driest spot in town short of Cameron Hill. “The blue building. Buzz number eighteen and we’ll let you up if you need a place to crash. ”
“Thanks,” I said.