━ 𝗮 𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗶𝘁.
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 at the house, Caroline and Daryl were sitting on the futon, holding hands.
With a weak smile plastered over my lips, I had stood frozen behind the screen door, water dripping from every inch of my body. The container of oil was in my two hands held in front of my stomach, and I had simply stood there, until they noticed me. My hair was blowing in every direction, no longer tied back with the elastic, and the rain-water slid off my body and stained the wood of the porch.
Caroline had rushed over to the door with trembling hands, grabbing my shoulders with her thin fingers. Daryl waited behind the screen door, as Caroline's hair flew up in a wild mess. She had pulled me into the house, told Daryl to get me a towel, and engulfed me into a hug despite my clothes being soaked. She was saying things to me, but I didn't really listen, my mind was somewhere else.
Then there I was, sitting on the couch wrapped in a warm brown towel. The wind bristled past the house, and Daryl sat next to me, as Caroline prepared me a mug of hot cocoa. When she had placed it into my shivering hands, she asked how I managed to get home through the storm. I left out the part with the Routledge kid in it, and simply explained, through quivering lips, that I ran the bike all the way home in the rain.
They believed me, but I think it was just because they felt bad— felt guilty for letting their granddaughter, whom they just met, out biking into a hurricane, by herself, in a town she didn't know— even though it was my suggestion to go out.
Eventually, after warming up, we ate dinner in silence. None of us really looked at each other, and rather out the windows at the storm that raged on. It wasn't supposed to get bad until nighttime, so Caroline made sure to close and lock the real door, which I noticed was rarely ever shut. She also closed all the blinds, leaving the house in darkness, and made sure the window in my room was sealed shut before I went to bed.
Nothing was really spoken as she said goodnight to me, except for something along the lines of "Come and see us if something happens.", before she smiled, exited the room, and left the door open a crack. I found it hard to hear what she had said, mainly because the rain was pounding so hard on the rooftop of the house, but also because my mind wandered elsewhere. I was worried about the hurricane of course, and what would happened afterwards, but I couldn't stop myself from also thinking about the two boys who picked me up.
It was hard to fall sleep that night. The house felt like it moved and swayed with the heavy wind, and the roof had sounded like it was going to cave in with all the rain hammering down on it. I had pulled my blankets up all the way past my cheeks, and eventually fell asleep after what seemed like hours.
"Holy cow,"
The house was so silent, that I woke up from hearing Caroline whisper. She was in the kitchen.
I opened my tired eyes to the bright sunlight, spilling through the bedroom window— portraying a weird feeling, as if nothing had happened the night before. The old clock on the bedside table beside me wasn't working, meaning that the power was off, causing a groan to be heard. Immediately after, as reality sunk in, I took notice of large tree branches scattered along the bottom part of the wide window, and wedged between it's wooden framings.
I looked at the leaves pinned up against the glass, while my legs swung over the side of the bed. The floor was cold against my bare feet towards the already opened door. The floor planks creaked beneath steps, which was, about, the only audible sound throughout the whole house. I turned the corner to see Caroline staring out the kitchen window, both her hands rubbing over her forehead with a strong air of stress.
"What time is it?" My morning voice was groggy and low-toned, as I wiped my eyes and stepped towards her.
"Charlotte, you're up," Caroline forced a happy smile to her lips, as she turned around to look at me, slightly startled. "It's noon," she widened her eyes, "I guess storms do that to people," she referred to the over-sleeping.
I didn't hear her. I was looking out the window, at the hurricane damage. I didn't really know what to expect in person, but the scene in front of me was far worse.
One of the gigantic trees, that used to hold up the hammock, was lying flat on the ground, ripped out from its roots. It's extremely large length reached out all the way past the front part of the house, and over to my bedroom, which I assumed is where the branches had come from. The multicoloured hammock was no where to be seen. I felt a wave of fear spread through my chest, knowing that the tree could have landed right on top of my room.
Caroline and Daryl's boat had been pushed all the way back into the water, and the rope they'd used to tie it the day before, was long gone. The tree they tied it to, though, was still in place, which was probably the only thing in the front yard that hadn't shifted. Branches of every size, pieces of cardboard, dirty leaves, wooden planks, and stray metal rods lay absolutely everywhere. There was barely an empty patch of green grass.
The red bicycle wasn't on the porch, where I'd left it last, causing me to think it had been taken away by the wind and possibly crushed by the tree. A hand rose up to cover my mouth, as I then became completely speechless at the sight of everything. Despite every mess created by the storm, the sun still rose and still shined down over the water, making it glimmer with a sparkle.
"Agatha's a bitch," Caroline spat out, from beside me, sounding like a teenager. She referred to the hurricane.
I'd never heard her swore, causing me to look over at her. She spoke the cuss word with a weird tone, sounding like she didn't use foul language often.
I didn't respond to her as I lunged for my shoes, sliding them on quickly. I ripped open the screen door, and jumped off the porch, hopping over all the damage with alarmed eyes pinned on the red bicycle, that floated peacefully in the calm waters right beside the dock. It shimmered in the sunlight. I ran onto the rickety docks, the loose wooden planks echoing beneath the thuds of my steps.
The handles were hard to grab, but once gripped, the red bike was pulled out of the water. I rose to my feet after crouching down to reach it, and looked forward at the water.
I stopped.
Realizing I'd never been this close to something like it before, I found myself genuinely admiring the way the water shined under the sun. As I stared with a mouth open in awe, a motor-sound caught my ears, approaching, and I didn't know where it was coming from.
Curiously, I turned back around to see Caroline and Daryl watching me from the porch. It was only when I'd made it back to the porch that I realized they weren't looking at me at all. I followed their shared gaze and saw a blueish-grey motor-boat slowing driving by on the water, at a distance.
Two manly-figures were on it, both wearing SnapBack hats on their heads. The side of their old boat had writing on it, and I squinted my eyes to be able to read it. In white paint, it the boat was labeled "HMS pogue". I wondered what it could mean as I stared at the two men, who seemed to look a lot like young boys now, one driving the boat and one standing up near the front.
The one driving their boat turned his head in our direction, his hand rising up. Caroline and Daryl waved to him, and he waved back. I couldn't tell if they knew who it was on the boat, since their faces were no more than faint blurs in the distance, if they were simply being friendly, or if it was a common thing to wave to people passing by.
Even so, I turned away, not really adding an extra thought to it. I leant the bike along the wall of the house, as Daryl rubbed his hands along his jeans.
"I better get down to the motel," he said, rubbing his hand over his mouth, looking worried and doubtful.
"You want me to come with?" Caroline asked, placing her hand on his forearm.
"Nah," he waved a hand in the air. "You two start clean up, I'll be back to help in a bit."
"Okay," Caroline smiled a reassuring smile at her husband, and then stood on her tippy-toes to kiss his cheek. "Come on, Charlotte," she then placed a hand on my back and guided me into the house.
"I thought we were going to clean up?" I asked, unaware.
"You need to change, sweetheart," she laughed a harmless laugh, guiding me towards her bedroom.
I'd never been in there before, but it looked just like my bedroom, except much larger. It was dim, and the walls were painted yellow too, but a slightly darker tone of it.
"You guys painted your walls yellow too?" I laughed, looking around the room.
"We had too much leftover paint!" She exclaimed, laughing as well. She removed her hand from my back and opened her sliding closet, revealing a maze of clothes and colours. "I don't know how much those jeans costed you," she looked at my legs, "but I don't want you ruining them." She reached into the shelf and pulled out a pair of worn out overalls, with paint splatters on them. "Take these, bug."
I looked at her with an odd look.
"Oh my goodness," she hit a realization and smacked her head with her open palm. "I'm sorry— I used to call your dad that. That was weird, I apologize,"
"No, it's okay," I laughed lightly, not minding the nickname. "Hearing 'Charlotte' all the time is kind of boring," I shrugged.
She smiled at me, a bright grin. I had no choice but to smile back, it practically slid on my lips without control. She lightly laughed and shoved the overalls into my hands. I didn't say anything after that as I walked out of her room and down the hall to mine. I had never worn overalls, ever.
When I put them on, they were too big in all the wrong places. I figured they must have been Daryl's. They sagged down at my legs and crumpled around the backside, and I couldn't figure out how to work the straps so I gave up and let them fall loose off my shoulders.
Caroline didn't seem to mind the poor fashion statement when I walked out, because she, too, had changed into a pair of overalls as well.
___
We'd spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up the front yard.
Caroline and I, wearing our matching overall uniforms, picked up every wood piece and metal rod, threw each stray stick and leaf into garbage bags. The power wasn't working the whole time, either, and it was annoying me how every time I'd go into the shed in the backyard, there wasn't a light to turn on. At one point, I tripped over the overalls and fell into Daryl's cabinet of car-tools, ending with a scrape on my fingers.
By the time we were done, the only thing left out of place was the fallen-down tree. Caroline had told me that she didn't want to waste her time going to someone for help, because she knew that the police station would be filled with a bunch of unhappy islanders. So, the tree stayed in its place, lying there on the green grass. She had also told me that she wished the hammock was still there.
The whole time we were cleaning, I kept glancing up at the water. I wanted to go on a boat ride, go to the beach, jump off the docks, dip my toes in the water, run in the sand... but a hurricane had just hit the island and I figured I'd have to wait.
Daryl came back at around three in the afternoon, which is when we had finished. The night before, he had went outside and put the oil in the truck, making sure it would be for good use after the storm. The truck was still loud, and made odd sounds as it pulled up in the "driveway" which was still just a patch of engraved grass.
"How was it?" Caroline asked him when he walked in.
"You don't even wanna know," he shook his head from side to side, breathing out stressfully.
Caroline and I were sitting at the round table, playing cards. I assumed playing cards was something I needed to get used to, since it seemed like she loved to play them often.
"You need any help?" She asked him, her voice kind and soft.
"Yeah actually," he sighed, placing his hand on the front doorframe. He leaned, taking the weight off his feet. "No one really showed up."
"Okay, I'll go with you," Caroline stood up and pushed in her chair, "you stay here, okay Charlotte?" She smiled. "Or— bug."
Daryl looked to his wife, and then to me. "That's what we used to call Danny," he beamed, happy.
"She likes it too," Caroline glanced to me, smiling as well.
Daryl breathed in, and as he left the door, he shouted, "See ya later then, bug!" He laughed, waving at me through the window. I couldn't help but smile.
"We'll be back soon," Caroline told me, her voice happy.
I stayed quiet, and nodded with a small grin on my lips. I didn't really know how to feel about being home alone in the new house, but I didn't say anything because I knew they needed to go. I'd been home alone a countless amount of times back in the apartment in New York, but that was different. I'd just look out my bedroom window, see all the people walking in the streets, and it didn't feel like I was alone. But there was no one to look at out the window here.
Eventually, I made it to my bedroom after a while of wandering. I walked over to the desk in the corner and sat down on the cushion strapped to the wooden chair. The people in the pictures on the pin board stared back at me, my mom and dad, me. In the upper corner of the board, there was a small picture that caught my eye, which I hadn't seen before. I reached up and gripped my fingertips around it.
It was a picture of my dad as a toddler, in black and white film. I felt a tiny smile pull at the corners of my mouth, while I looked down at it.
Suddenly, there was a loud knock. I jumped, dropping the picture abruptly, and whipped my head towards where it came from.
My eyes landed on someone I didn't expect to see, standing outside my closed window. My breath hitched quietly when I realized who it was.
The Routledge kid stood behind the glass, a cheeky grin plastered on his stupid face.
"Jesus, Cherry Cola," he shouted through the window, laughing loudly, "What are you wearing."
༄
𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 !