Rocky Horror and Daphne share a look that says they don’t believe me.
“I’m not! He just... something is different. And I don’t know what it is.” We sit in silence for a moment, and I turn to see Cara at the next table with Amy, Henri-Two, and another woman with a baby aroundHenri-Two’s age. I know Cara’s been listening, and judging by the look on her face, she understands what I’m talking about. She doesn’t seem confused like Daphne—or bored-slash-annoyed like Rocky Horror. She seems sad. Pitying, maybe.
“Wait,” Rocky Horror says. “I don’t know why I’m still here dealing with this. Excuse me.” He stands. “Daph, you need a refill?”
She says she’s okay, and he gives me one last exasperated look before heading back to the punch bowl.
Daphne reaches across the table to take my hand.
“Whatever’s going on between you two, I think you need to talk about it, for real, before you make any major decisions.”
I nod, but that’s easier said than done. How do I ask my boyfriend—are we even still boyfriends?—if he’s changed now that we’re living in what could be considered a functional society again? How do I not sound rude when I say I think it’s selfish to change the plan so casually and forget about the mission to get Henri?
Jamie’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I turn again to see him talking to Cara. She nods, her eyes wide with surprise. Amy and the other woman stop talking and turn to listen just as the band kicks into a high-tempo song and drowns out whatever he’s saying.
Amy puts a hand to her mouth in shock.
“What’s going on?” I ask Daphne as I stand.
Jamie turns to me. “We’re not leaving Sunday,” he says. “The broadcast earlier from Radio Blanca... the radio operator here lost touch with the outpost over there a few hours ago, and no one has answered yet.”
Daphne is by my side now. “Is everything okay?”
“They don’t know,” Jamie says. “But they’re making an announcement at the end of the social. We’re going to prepare for the storm to hit us, too. Hopefully if it does, it won’t be a full hurricane, but just to be safe, they’re moving everyone into shelters. If it does hit, it will be tomorrow afternoon or evening.”
“Where are we supposed to go?” I ask.
“There’s a school in Marathon that used to be a hurricane shelter,” Daphne says.
Jamie nods. “That’s the one we’re using. The southern Keys are going to the naval base in Key West, Key Largo is staying put and sheltering in a school up there, and from Tavernier down to us are heading to Marathon.” He turns to me. “They want the boat crew to move supplies into the school overnight. You should probably start getting the kids’ stuff together so you can all head over first thing in the morning. I’m going to grab stuff at the house first. Anything specific you want?”
So much for keeping the conversational momentum going. I shake my head, and he turns to Cara to ask if she’s ready and she nods yes. The two of them leave, but he stops and jogs back to me.
He leans down and kisses me lightly on the cheek. “See you in the morning. But if the wind and rain start, don’t wait, okay?”
“Okay.”
When he leaves I can still feel the dampness from his lips on my cheek. And it makes my heart ache.
Maybe all we needed was a catastrophe to get back to normal.
That doesn’t bode well.
Jamison
EMPTYING THE STORAGE TAKES MOST OF THEnight into the early morning because we have to inventory everything first. I’m not sure when they came up with this emergency management system—judging by how logical it all is, I assume months ago—but the Committee wants to keep track of which supplies come from which Key so that afterward everything will go back where it was originally allotted.
The system by which everything was allotted to begin with is entirely above my paygrade.
It’s tedious work, but it feels good to be doing something, even with the air of worry hovering over everyone. When the sun comes up, the sky is still clear and blue. But the afternoon quickly worsens as dark clouds creep in, and it starts drizzling as people arrive at Marathon High School. Cots have been placed in the gym, hallways, and several classrooms. The cafeteria is set up as it would have been in the before times, but with stacks of canned and dried goods surrounding the tables.
After we finish triple-counting the Islamorada stores in the caf, the people in charge tell me I’m free to go. I’ve only seen Andrewtwice since we arrived, so I head toward the gym to find him. Outside, the rain is coming down steadily, and the wind howls in gusts.
I pick up bits of information and gossip from people in the halls.
“Sandy and her husband haven’t slept in the same bed in—”
“Before, anything above a two was a mandatory evacuation for the Keys.”
