A Spirited Gift

“If we had a direct line to Tom Watts’s place, he’d be able to tell us. He lives out there in an old trailer so he can be near the horses. He knows everything about them,” Mayor Whiteside said.

“We’re always making fun of the newbies who board up at the first sign of a storm.” Gramps chuckled. “Maybe they have the right of it. Living here for a long time might make you careless.”

“If my new bay window blows out at home, I’ll amen to that, Horace!” David agreed.

I studied the window in the front of the lobby as they spoke. It was at least twenty feet high and a dozen feet wide. It had been there since I was a kid. We used to sneak down and hang out at the old Blue Whale, never guessing it would be occupied again someday. The window faced away from the ocean, so it was probably a little more sheltered from damage. But there was no way to know. It would be expensive to replace. I hoped Kevin had good storm insurance.

Of course, with a group like this, it was a good chance to talk about all the terrible storms we’d lived through. There were tall tales of hurricanes that had lasted weeks, tidal waves three hundred feet high, hail as big as soccer balls and lightning that went on for days.

Flooding was always a problem here because we were caught between several large bodies of water that rose up regularly around us. The whole hundred-mile-long series of islands was well below sea level. We lost coastline every year. We added sand, put in plants to hold it, but it was a constant struggle. It had always been this way for residents of Duck. I didn’t see any way it would change in the future either.

“Storm’s passing,” someone said from across the packed room. “It’s getting lighter.”

“Or it’s the eye,” an assistant supervisor from Kitty Hawk said.

“That’s no hurricane out there, folks,” Chief Michaels told everyone. “We just got some feeder bands from Hurricane Kelly. The weather service says it’s moving away from the North Carolina coast. We’ll hole up here a little while longer, then take a peek outside.”

Everyone tried their cell phones again, but there was still no service. That was one of the first things we always lost out here—one reason the ham radio club was so popular. They always communicated the latest updates to Chief Michaels and other emergency workers.

I hoped everyone was safe and that property damage was minimal. It was all I could do. The Blue Whale was still standing around us. We were blessed to be here.

The crowd was starting to get restless—the chief said he didn’t feel comfortable letting anyone go to the next room and use the bathrooms. Most of the kids had been complaining about it for a while. When we finally got the all-clear notice, a large group ran for the facilities. I hoped the water was still working. There had been times after a storm when it wasn’t.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” Kevin said as he helped me off the floor. “We seem to be in good shape.”

Anyone who didn’t go to the bathroom headed out the front door, including me, Kevin and Gramps. Outside, the bright moonlight made the devastation more apparent.  There was a car in what was left of Kevin’s mermaid fountain in front of the inn. Several picnic tables were in the driveway—undamaged—as if someone were about to eat lunch at them.

Trees, bushes and plants were tossed across the landscape. There was a tree on top of the roof. I realized as I looked up that all the windows were gone from the top floor on this side of the inn.

“I was a little quick to judge,” Kevin commented.

Gramps patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t feel too bad. It’s easy to misjudge. I’ve done it before. You get used to it.”

Kevin left us to make his way behind the inn so he could turn on the generator. People walked around outside, looking dazed and continuing to try and reach family and friends with their cell phones. A few guests started for their cars. Chief Michaels stopped them—the roads out of Duck were blocked by debris.

“Everyone calm down.” His loud voice got attention. “We’re safe here for now. There’s plenty to eat and drink and the bathrooms are working. Let’s give the cleanup crews a chance to get started. No reason to make matters worse.”

Despite close acquaintance with past storms, most people grumbled and complained that they weren’t happy about being trapped here, even though they would have been here for the conference anyway. People seemed to be that way about most things.

I got Nancy, Barbara and Althea together. We ushered everyone back into the hotel, promising food and drinks to ease the pain.

Emergency calls for workers were going out across the island. Kevin had been called—along with Gramps—to join the volunteer firefighters who would act as the cleanup crew for Duck. Marissa, still trying to dry her long blond hair, promised to look after the guests and the Blue Whale while he was gone. I promised to help her.