The Eye of a Hurricane

Isabel

A/N: Sick of me yet??

The lights went out and I was absolutely terrified.  Luna continued whimpering, sitting in my lap on the corner edge of my bed.  The wind howled outside and the hard water pelted our windows and the sides of our house.  I'd never heard rain like this before. 

"Where's Daddy?" Luna cried to me, her face wet from crying.

"I don't know," I told her.  He'd gone out hours before - before the hurricane had hit - to get some 'essentials', as he called them.  I'm sure he was looking for water and food as well, but his main priority was getting enough opioids to last him through the end of the storm.  That was always the priority.  Never his two kids.

Luna cried harder.  She was only five years old, and mainly my responsibility since Dad was usually gone.  Our mother had long since passed away.  She died giving birth to Luna.  I never blamed my little sister for her death, but my dad seemed to.  He told me once he could never forgive Luna for taking our mother, Esperanza, away from him.

So we sat on my bed, in the tiny bedroom we shared in San Juan, Puerto Rico, waiting.  Waiting for what I wasn't sure.  The storm to pass?  Our dad to come home?  Our dad to care?  The storm didn't let up, and eventually Luna fell asleep, exhausted from crying and being scared.  I stayed awake all night, just in case the room started to flood and we needed to go to the roof.

In the morning, I had Luna go to the restroom, though the toilet didn't flush, and I got her some dry cereal from the cabinet.  The last of it.  The milk was spoiled since the power had gone out.  I always put the TV on for her while she ate in the mornings, and she didn't understand why she couldn't today.

"There's no power, Luna," I reminded her as I found a box of crackers.  I took out three, unsure of when we'd be getting more food.  We needed to conserve our supplies.  The storm had passed now, I thought.  I remember Uncle Lin's song though - in the eye of a hurricane there is a quiet.  For a moment.  The yellow sky.  Was mother nature trying to trick us into coming out?

I looked out the window and saw that our street was partially submerged in water, but at least our house hadn't flooded.  People were rowing down the block in a little boat.  Someone looked over at my window and I gasped, then ducked away from the window.  I didn't want them knowing we were here alone.  I didn't want them thinking our daddy was a bad person because he wasn't.  He just had problems.

Around lunchtime, Luna said she was hungry so I gave her five crackers plus an apple that was starting to go bad.  Parts of the skin were mushy, so she didn't want to eat it.  I scarfed it down starving.

In the late afternoon, there was loud knocking at the door.  Daddy told us never to answer the door if it wasn't someone we knew.  They shouted, asking if anyone was home.  I cowered and stayed silent.  I desperately wanted to ask for help; for food, but I didn't want to let daddy down.  He'd be back soon.

Luna and I went to bed hungry.  I let her sleep in my bed again because she was still scared.  Late in the night, I heard a key at the door and heard my dad stumble in.

"Isabel!" he shouted.  I sprang out of my bed and ran to him.  He had fallen on the floor, a plastic bag in his hand.  He groaned as I helped him up.  He mumbled something in Spanish and passed me the bag.  There were a few useful things in it - bread, some already browning bananas, and peanut butter.  He'd forgotten again that Luna was allergic to peanut butter.

"Thanks, Dad," I told him as he walked to the couch.  He immediately collapsed and was out like a light.  I sighed and went back to bed.  At least I knew there would be something to eat in the morning.