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“Hey, Abby?” Mitchell says. I don’t correct him. I kind of like that he shortens my name. It’s kind of our thing. He’s standing at the front door, staring out.
“Yes?”
He turns toward me and there’s the oddest look on his face. “Is my dad all right?”
“He’s fine,” I say. But the boy looks like he doesn’t quite believe me.
“Abby? Are you sure?”
I lift my brows at him in response. “Of course. What makes you think he’s not all right?”
He turns slowly back around to stare out the screen door again. Now I’m a little concerned. Is it just nerves at being separated from his father, or—
Suddenly, I notice the flashing blue light that’s shining off the door as it goes around and around. The moisture from all the rain reflects the light, making it seem to penetrate everywhere.
My heart is immediately in my throat. “The police are here,” I say to Gran and I clutch her hand.
She walks over and takes Mitchell by the shoulder, guiding him away with some excuse as I step out onto the porch.
Little Robbie Gentry runs up my front steps, his state trooper hat dripping water. “Robbie?”
I know immediately, because he won’t look into my eyes.
“Robbie!” I say louder.
Finally, he looks at me. “Abigail,” he says, “I’m so sorry. They sent me to get you.”
“Get me for what?”
“It’s Ethan, and it’s bad.”
37
Ethan
When I arrive at Big Belly Creek, which is one of the smaller branches of the system that feeds the lake, I see that the small bridge there is flooded, and I can easily identify the trees that are blocking the road.
I stop and get out my tow straps, and I get ready to tie up to the trees so I can pull them out of the road at least. If I can get them out of the way, I can come back tomorrow and cut them up, when the rain isn’t so bad. But as I bend over to attach the straps to the trees, I hear the screams.
It sounds like the howling wind at first, so I dismiss it. But then I hear it again.
I look up and don’t see anything but rushing water over the main road that leads to Big Belly Bridge. The bridge is completely flooded,
the water high up on the road. Then I see it. I see a car stalled out in the water. On the top of a little white Honda, a lady stands with two small children. One is clutched in her arms, and the other holds tightly to her legs.
She screams and waves her free arm. Water rushes around her feet, and the child she’s holding loses his footing and she catches his arm, pulling him up to rest on her hip. The water rushes fiercely past her legs, and it looks like it’s getting deeper and deeper.
I walk out into the water, the rush of it against my own legs fierce and unyielding as it tries to knock me over. I pump my arms as I run to the car, and I trip as I get close. I get shoved hard by the roiling water, smashing my arm between my body and the car, but I don’t stop. I can’t.
“Give me the kids!” I call out. I make a come-hither motion with my hands, and she looks down at me skeptically. “I can do it!” I yell. “But you have to hurry! The water’s still rising.” It’s battering my shoulders now, and I can feel splashes in the back of my hair. She squats down, bracing herself against the pull of the water. She hands me the larger boy, who wraps himself around me. I try to take the baby too, but the car moves under her, propelled by the force of the water, and she nearly falls. I hold the boy to my front, letting him wrap his legs and arms around me.
“Hold on tight. As tight as you can,” I warn. He grips me like one of those spider monkeys you see on nature shows as they cling to their mothers even when dashing unheeded through the treetops. I turn around and call out to the mom over my shoulder, “Give me the baby!” The car shifts again, and I can see the railing bend, the only thing that’s keeping the car from rushing right over the side of the bridge. “Now!” I yell.
She leans down, passes the infant to me as I still hold her older child with the other hand. The I turn and yell, “Hop on! Hurry!” She jumps, grabbing my neck as she holds on to me, and I feel her legs wrap around my waist. I hold tightly to the children, as her boy holds on to my front, and I jump against the force of the water, trying to get back to the shore. I see headlights up ahead and blue lights right behind. Thank God.
I walk with her to the part of the road that’s out of the water, and I turn my body so that the boy slides free and she drops gently onto the concrete roadway. I lower the baby into her waiting arms.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” I yell against the noise of the water.
