August 28, 2012
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Marooned…
The storm truly began on Sunday evening, with the rain. It pattered constantly until it submerged the lowest part of the road. I swore as I drove through it in my car, moving slowly so that I wouldn’t damage the dirt road. I took my large umbrella with me when I went to pick up the kids. I didn’t use it, we darted to the car in a light drizzle, with H hugging me before we went out the door.
It was one of those moments that are awkward and uncomfortable. Devil me giggled.
I was on call, but it was third call, so I was only mildly worried as puddles merged in the backyard. My pond overflowed it’s banks, and joined the neighbor’s pond. I called work to tell them that I’d need an hour notice to get in. The rain poured down. The lights flickered and then went out for good. We went to bed then, tired anyway. I told the kids that we’d check the school board website in the morning. I didn’t trust that there would be school on Monday.
The water was higher at dawn. I waded out into my driveway and was astonished to discover that my driveway was under over a foot of water. I wasn’t even at the deepest point. Even worse, the rain and wind were picking up. I watched the water rise 6 more inches in less than 3 hours. I called out of work. School was cancelled.
The day was long and boring. The wind blew, gusted hard, and rain swirled and danced over the pond that had overtaken my backyard. I filmed from my open sliding door, laughing and joking while I worried that the water would continue to rise over the island that sat under my house. When the rain stopped I took photos. I joked with the kids. We cooked and did homework. I talked to my dad on the phone, urging him to stay safely at home and not go sightseeing. He argued with me about coming out here, but I knew the water was deep. In the end, I won. The next call was a colleague from work, were the kids and I okay? Did we need anything? The other employees who had missed were able to get to work on Tuesday. Their flooding wasn’t so extensive. My heart sank.
We checked to see about school. Still cancelled for Tuesday. I slept fitfully, dreaming that the water had gone down…nearly completely gone. So vivid was the dream that I dared to hope that it was true. I opened the curtains so I could look over my yard, hope in my heart.
Dashed to pieces on the soggy ground, the water had gone down very little. My mailbox stands sentinel in still water, two feet deep. I call out again. The photos and video will be helpful if I’m questioned. Mostly, I’m disappointed. It sucks to be stuck at home. I miss my work, my colleagues. The kids miss school and their classmates. Like it or not, we are all social beings.
I joke with friends on the social networking site because it requires no thought and is something to pass the time. Mutual friends bring up D in conversation. It’s innocent, and I gently disengage from the conversations, excusing myself for the night. Another friend crosses the line while joking around, says a few asshole things. I don’t have the heart to spar, so I navigate away, leaving his comments hanging. He apologizes, but I don’t see it until today. I leave it hanging too. We all post photos of the damage from TS Isaac. Some post videos. We check in to see who’s okay. I’m the only one stranded. We joke about sending for the national guard.
When I discover that fire ants have found a way inside I grab insecticide and spray around the windows and doors. The island is infested so they quickly find me and attack my feet, causing me to dance and swear. After I finish dancing around in 95 degree heat and 100% humidity, I drag my ant-bitten and sweaty self inside and crank out a sarcastic poem to post as my status. My writer friends clap and squeal with glee. They pronounce it perfect…and beg for more.
Indeed, it has been fun noting the mundane. The cat found a few spiders in the pantry, and nearly destroyed the house pursuing them. My son nearly crashed the computer by trying to download a game. Not to mention the jokes about living on my own private island, taking up sailing, or fishing. I spend a long time painting my toenails. I put away a few things, do some laundry.
Mostly though, I look at the water outside.
Birds dart and swoop, loop back and swoop again. Mosquito Swifts. I shake my head, because it will become miserable if the water doesn’t go down soon.
Angel me touches my arm so that I look at her. Her eyes are sorrowful. I know what she’s thinking, but I can’t bear to hurt her with sarcasm, “No, he hasn’t called. I’ve suspected for a long time that he didn’t care, and I’m not surprised. It’s okay. He’s busy making certain that the people he cares about, the ones he loves, are okay. I made certain that there was enough food and water. I’ll work overtime to be certain that I can pay all my bills. I’ll make sure that the kids and I are okay. It doesn’t matter if he cares or not. I care. That’s enough,” tears rush to my eyes, surprising me. I turn away, “Besides, I have friends who care and who will help me if I need it.”
Devil me follows me to my bedroom, silent. I sigh and swipe at my eyes roughly, “I thought I was over him. It still hurts that he doesn’t bother to check. He never considered me to be a friend. That explains a great deal.” I rub my eyes with toilet tissue before trumpeting like a pachyderm. Devil me smiles ruefully, “You were right to make a clean break then.” She looks sideways at me, “He’s probably thinking the same about you.” I nod, “I won’t check on him. He has plenty of family and friends to make certain that he’s high and dry, well-fed and happy. He doesn’t need to hear from me. Let the fair weathers help him if he needs help. If he needs intimacy then he can call L.” My voice is cold and hollow. I wave Devil me away so that I can look at the still water outside. A fish jumps near the mailbox, and a large dark shadow crosses the submerged road.
I have enough to think about.
