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Everyone was quiet for a bit as the storm raged. The sound of it, my god. It was deafening. There was no point in talking now.
Jeremiah opened the box and carefully lifted the bundle of towel out. I almost didn’t want him to open it. If the bird was dead, letting the young girls see wouldn’t be good.
He pulled the towel back and the bird just lay there. Not soaking wet anymore, but it looked lifeless. Jeremiah stroked the feathers down its neck and its beak opened. Dear god, it was still alive.
I smiled at Jeremiah, and he smiled at me before he began gently rubbing the bird over with the towel. But before it got more stressed, he bundled it back up and popped it back in the box.
Then we all sat there in silence, each huddled to our person, as the cyclone battered us. A constant roar, incessant banging, howling, the sounds of metal and steel straining.
I expected the roof to rip off at any second. Or the walls to break apart, or something to slam into us. Every cell in my body was laced in fear, prepared, locked in fight or flight mode; the adrenaline was exhausting.
Jeremiah and I had our arms around each other, holding on tight. The girls were crying, screaming at every loud bang. Doreen cradled Suri’s head to her chest, and even Lindsey covered her ears.
Then, after an age, the radar, the last remaining light on the dashboard, blinked off and back on. Our one last hope at communication.
I could feel Jeremiah hold his breath as he waited for the inevitable.
His head went to my shoulder, I rested my head against his, and no one spoke.
Just scared eyes and flinches every time something banged, or thunder clapped, or lightning boomed.
Then the radar blinked again, off and on, then off again, only this time didn’t come back on.
“Radio tower’s down,” Jeremiah said.
Christ.
Time slowed down to a crawl.
Every minute felt hellishly long.
The tail end of the cyclone was so much worse. Jeremiah had said it would be, and he wasn’t wrong.
The noise. The roar. The sound of hell unleashed.
For as long as I lived—if I lived through this day—I would never forget how loud it was.
It started to mess with my head. Like I couldn’t hear anything else but the deafening roar, and then like I couldn’t hear it at all.
Like I’d gotten used to it. Complacent. Like the utter horror outside wasn’t happening at all.
Even the girls had stopped crying some time ago and now just stared blankly into the room. I think I preferred them crying.
Suri was sitting up now, still tucked into Doreen’s side, still clutching Bruce. With just a hollow look of defeat.
It felt surreal.
Like the worst possible thing to happen wasn’t happening at all.
I wondered how my family was.
If they were okay.
Did the cyclone-proof cellar hold?
Were they hurt?
My heart was thumping so hard it was painful.
