17. Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
Kate
I check Cece to make sure she is strapped in securely. The booster seat is not quite up to code since it had been new when I was a baby, but it is better than nothing.
Charles is on the phone, apparently talking to his building security. “Mmm-humm, mm-hmm,” he makes ‘I’m listening’ noises to the person on the other end. Then he actually speaks. “Put emergency tape all around the building, and post security patrols. If it looks like it’s going to collapse, try to get everyone out of the way. I’ll call our construction crews and see if we can get some cranes and other heavy machinery to do some scaffolding. The other three main columns should hold, but it might not withstand another mega storm like this one.”
He has no sooner hung up, than his phone rings. “Charles Emory,” he answers. Then, “Absolutely, Lieutenant. I’m cordoning it off as we speak and putting my own security around it. I’ve got heavy equipment on the way to help keep it from toppling. Do you need me to divert any of it? ”
There is a pause while Charles listens. “Whatever we can lend you, Lieutenant. As soon as I can get my house in order, I’ll call you back with a contact number.”
He then hangs up and asks, “James, have you heard from Manuela?”
“I have,” James answers. “The storm pretty much passed by her brownstone. Her daughters are at the hospital where things are more than a little desperate right now, between the pandemic victims and those injured in the storm. I made her central processing, since she’s got that fancy rig you set up for her.”
“Thank God!” Charles says fervently. “That’s one worry off my mind. Yes, that’s absolutely right. She’s got the security clearance, and she’s great at taking messages and sending them on to the right people.”
I, too, give a sigh of relief. Over the last several weeks, I’d spent a lot of time on Zoom or Google Chat with Manuela. She had shared recipes, locations of vital household equipment (such as the vacuum cleaner), and her granddaughters, ages seven and ten, had spent at least an hour each day playing games with Cece and talking with her. We are all going to miss the social contact. More than that, I am glad to know that she and her family are all right.
My phone chimes. It’s Grace.
Grace: Kate! Are you all right? Did James find you?
Me: Yes, and yes. We are on our way to some property that Charles owns.
Grace: Ooooo! Goggly eyes emoji. It’s Charles now, is it?
Me: We shared a storm shelter. Of course he is. Besides, we got to be Charles and Kate over nightly Scrabble games.
Grace: Uh-huh. Scrabble. Angel halo emoji
Me: Scrabble. Not what you’re thinking.
Grace: Hehe! Tell James I said hi.
Me: Ok .
I look at the phone while Charles keeps on taking calls and making them.
When the phone calls slow down, James asks, “Have you thought about what you’re going to do with all these people?”
Charles replies, “I’ve thought, but I’m clueless. Do you have any ideas?”
“A few,” James says. “I’ve called Walmart and Bass Pro. I’ve got a batch order of tents, all sizes, camp cooking gear and similar such stuff headed our way. But it’s likely to be morning before it gets to us. We might have to house a few more people to justify cleaning out their stores.”
“How many?” Charles asks.
“No way of knowing tonight,” James replies. “The churches and schools are turning their intact buildings into shelters. But some of them were leveled, too. It was a bad one.”
I shudder. I’d never had to take shelter off the farm, but we’d ridden out more than one tornado in the spider-infested root cellar. Dad upgraded it a few years ago, making it deeper and more storm proof, but it still had spiders.
“What happens if we get another one?” I ask.
“Thought about that, too,” James says. “Can’t do much tonight, but I can bring over the backhoe in the morning and start digging. According to the weather, we aren’t likely to get any more whirlies in the next forty-eight hours. This storm has moved east, and pretty much blew itself out just before it got to St. Louis.”
“Good to know,” I say, trying not to think of the corridor of devastation that probably followed the gale force winds and whirling cones of destruction.
With this small bit of good news, the cab becomes quiet. After a time, Larry slumps into the corner of the bench seat, and Charles leans his seat back. The cab of the truck reverberates with male snoring .
When it seems likely that both men are deep in dreamland, James asks, “How are you, Kate? Were you safe through the storm?”
“Yes,” I say. Since he probably already knew about Agri-Oil’s storm precautions, I don’t think I need to say more. As for my budding relationship with Charles, I have no desire to share with my brother.
“I worried about you,” he says. “But I couldn’t think of anyone else we could trust with Cece. There have been several kidnapping attempts in the last year. One of them was the hired nanny.”
“Oh, no!” I breathe. Now, Charles’ off-hand remark about children being able to play without fear of kidnapping makes a lot more sense. And so did James’ efforts to push me into taking the job. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I can’t see James in the dark of the cab, but I can imagine his shrug. “It was hushed up. No need to give people a hint or incentive to try again.”
“But Bit o’ Heaven wasn’t a high security facility,” I protest. “Anyone could have waltzed in there and taken her at any time.”
“Higher than you think,” my brother says. “Charles had private security watching it all the time Cece was there. On top of that, it’s a licensed facility with security locks and routine identity checks. With all the hype about school shootings and parent kidnappings, Charles only needed to make a couple of small donations to get the facility up to speed.”
“Oh.” I let a wealth of response settle into the syllable, remembering that there had been renovations and security upgrades. But I thought it had just been because we had children belonging to local government members.
“Yeah, oh,” James loads up the sarcasm on his return comment. “Which is why I tried to get Charles to park this rig at our place, but he insists that he needs to be with his people. I get it, but it worries me.”
“I’ll be extra careful,” I say. “It’s good that she has a dog devoted to her. Gidget won’t be much in the way of defense, but she has a piercing bark.”
“Now you’re thinking,” James says. “I’ve got some other plans, as well. For tonight, I’ve got our farm workers setting up emergency lighting and facilities, as well as some of Charles’ private security cordoning off space for the three of you. It’s going to help that we’ll be the last to pull in, so they’ll have had plenty of time to set up.”
“That’s good,” I say. Then I have a thought. “James, have you heard from the Webers? I’ve texted back and forth a few times with Grace, but I’ve not tried to reach her today.”
“Yeah, I have, actually. Grace visited the U-Pick farm just yesterday to get some strawberries. She’s going crazy at home with her sisters there. On top of that, they’ve got some cousins visiting. Got evicted or something. Their social distancing is kind of a mess right now.”
I settle back in my seat and consider this.
We have been doing all right in the penthouse. But if Cece is going to need extra watching, I can use some back up. Besides, I miss my roommate. If I could talk Charles into it, and if Grace was willing…
I daydream a little about having my friend at least visit us. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I know we are bumping into a field.
The men all pile out of the cab, and Cece wakes up. “Where are we?” she asks.
“On your daddy’s country property,” I tell her. “I think they’re setting up the camper so we can have a good place to sleep tonight.”
“Are we camping?” Cece asks excitedly. “Mommy and Daddy took me camping last year. It was fun! I caught a fish. ”
“More like glamping,” I say.
“What’s glamping?” she asks, picking up on the new word.
“It means that we have a nice dry camper to sleep in, where we won’t have any trouble with mosquitos or coyotes,” I say, unbuckling the safety harness on the booster seat.
“I’d like to see some coyotes,” Cece says. “Aren’t they kind of like dogs?”
“Kind of,” I say. I’m saved from further explanation by James rapping on the glass. I reach around the driver’s side seat back and disengaged the child safety lock. That lets me open the back door.
James reaches up and lifts Cece down, and I climb out after her. “Charles isn’t doing too good,” he says. “That bum hip of his is giving him trouble. We probably ought to see if we can get a mobile medical unit out here, somehow. Dr. Macy is good, but she’s stretched thin. And with this many people, we’re bound to have some sickness and accidents, even if we aren’t visited by the big C.”
I shoulder the cat carrier, get my laptop bag, and Cece’s personal bag. It means I am kind of overloaded, but James has Cece and the duffel of food supplies.
He and Charles haven’t bothered to unhook the camper from the truck but put out the stabilizers. “I’ll come back and lock the truck,” James says. “I got Larry bunked in with a couple of college guys, so he should be all right.”
“He’s been super helpful, but I’m glad we won’t have to share with him,” I say. “Where are you sleeping tonight?”
“In the truck,” James says. “Where else? I’m not going to take a chance that some dude drives off with my baby sister, my boss and the boss’s kid.”
“James!” I exclaim.
“I’ll be fine,” he says. “The bench folds down into a bed. Dad and I used to take the truck fishing. He’d take the bench, and I got the passenger side seat.”
“Oh.” I seem to be saying that a lot. James is ten years older than me. He and Dad had bonded a lot, while I mostly stayed at home or had been away at camp or school. It gave me some things to think about.
The camper wobbles just a little as we get in, but it is mostly solid on its wheels.
The inside of the camper is shadowy, but I can see Charles sprawled on a wide bed at the rear of it. “Sorry, Kate,” he says as we enter, “You and Cece have the loft. I’m not going to make it up there tonight.”
“Too much stair-master?” I joke, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Yeah,” he says. “My muscles weren’t ready for that downhill hike.”
“I made up the bed already,” James puts in. “I’ll get Cece up there, then you can tuck her in, Kate. Once you are settled, I’ll be in the truck. Text me if whatever.”
“We’d better wake her and let her use the bathroom,” I say. “It’s been a long trip. Besides, I don’t want her to fall down the steps because she doesn’t realize where she is.”
“Good point,” Charles agrees before James can protest.
Cece is delighted with the “little house” but is tired enough that it isn’t hard to get her to tuck into her “eagle’s nest”.
I line a box with brown paper off a food package and sprinkled cat litter into it for Mr. Fluffy. I am so glad it is the organic wheat litter. The clay stuff would have been impossibly heavy. I put food on the miniscule counter for Mr. Fluffy and feed Gidget on the floor.
When the dog is finished, I clip her lead on her and take her outside. She’d been amazingly good during the whole trip.