ten

Kristen sat alone on the old wooden pier overlooking the bay, and relived the past weekend.

It frightened her to think of how close she had come to revealing her feelings to Wes on his boat Saturday night.

It must have been moon madness, she thought, as she looked up at the almost-full moon.

She had to get away. Make a new beginning and try to put together the shattered pieces of her heart.

She would write a letter to Paula Powell Business College, to begin again to explore the employment market. She’d search for something in another area, and try to erase from her mind every little memory of Robert Weston Bradley III. Impossible? Of course. But she had to try, and she had to begin at once.

Engrossed in her own thoughts, she did not see Jeff until he was standing beside her.

“It’s almost full again.” His eyes lifted to the sky, matching her gaze. “Only two more nights until the full moon. Don’t forget our plans.”

“I’ve kept track of the days. I was wondering if you’d remember. Do you think our baby turtles are going to survive?”

“We certainly hope so. I’ll keep a lookout on the beach, and as soon as I see any action, I’ll come calling at your window like I did before.”

Remembering that night, Kristen confessed. “I thought you were out of your mind.”

Jeff was such a good friend. He spent as much time at the Spinnaker as his busy schedule allowed, and although she had been shocked to realize that he could read her heart and mind, there was a certain comfort in having at least one person in whom she could confide.

“Why the long face?” he asked. “I see storm clouds on that usually sunny face. And speaking of storms, that’s one reason I stopped by. I only have a few minutes, but I wanted to let you know that there’s a tropical disturbance just below Cuba. We’re watching it pretty carefully in case it continues in this direction.”

Afternoon thunderstorms had been a regular occurrence on the beach all summer. They cleared as suddenly as they burst from the clouds. Fierce rolls of thunder and daggerlike cracks of lightening would play across the water like fireworks, accompanied by torrents of pelting rain. Then, in seconds, it seemed, the sun would overpower the cloudburst, and in its wake, the air swept in crisply clean and fresh. Kristen found these storms refreshing, and had actually come to enjoy them.

“Why would we be so concerned about a storm in Cuba?”

“Because we’re just getting into the hurricane season,” he explained. “Sometimes these tropical disturbances escalate in speed and intensity, and there’s no way to predict which way they’ll turn. But worry at this point is probably premature. I’ll keep you posted.”

Kristen rose and walked with him to the end of the pier where his boat was anchored. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“I wish I could have left you with a smile on your lovely face. Just keep remembering what I told you. It’s not over—”

“I know. Until the fat lady sings.” This time she did smile, but the ache in her heart remained.

Two nights later she sat on her upstairs deck at midnight, dressed in her jeans and T-shirt, and watched and waited. The full moon was high in the sky, and it cast a rippling reflection on the gulf waters below. The night air was strangely still.

True to his word, by the brightness of the full moon, Jeff came hurrying up to the house, waving to her as she sat on her second-floor perch. “Hurry up. Get Janelle. It’s time to go.”

He didn’t need to say any more this time. She knew what they were going to do, and excitement sent her running across the hall to Janelle’s room.

Shaking the sleeping child gently, she whispered, “Wake up, darling. It’s time to check on our babies.”

She only needed to call her once. Janelle had gone to sleep in her clothes in anticipation of Jeff’s visit, and in just five minutes from his first call, Jeff’s “girls” were joining him on the shore.

Holding hands, they ran down the beach. The night was almost as bright as daylight. As they approached the spot where they had watched the big turtle deposit her eggs, Janelle looked disappointed. “I don’t see anything happening!”

“Just watch and listen.” Jeff shined his flashlight on the flat sand. The first sign of life was a slight shifting of the sand, barely visible, but unmistakable movement!

A scratching noise, and the appearance of little brown claws fighting their way to the surface confirmed that the small baby turtles were indeed cracking out of their round, leathery shells, and frantically clawing their way through the fine sand toward a new life.

Kristen felt as though she were witnessing a miracle, as hundreds of little turtles, scarcely two inches long, began to populate the beach and travel toward the sea.

“How do they know which way to go?” Janelle asked.

“It’s a natural instinct,” Jeff told her. “They never hesitate about which direction to take.”

But the little band of fascinated human spectators were not the only ones watching for the turtles’ birth. Crabs seemed to appear from everywhere, more than Kristen had ever seen on the beach at one time. They had but one mission, it seemed: baby turtles for dinner!

Janelle screamed at them. “Go away! Go away!” In vain, the three of them kicked at the crabs, clapping and shouting in an attempt to scare away the predators, but their best efforts went unheeded, as many little turtles fell victim to the hungry scavengers.

“I used to like crabs,” Janelle wailed, “But not anymore!”

“It’s just all part of nature, Janelle.” Jeff put his hand on her head. “Just look at all the ones who are making it safely to the water.”

As soon as the turtles hit the water, their chances of survival improved, for they were swift little swimmers. They lost no time in heading out to sea.

Janelle walked several feet ahead of them, going home, lost in her own thoughts.

“I’m so glad we were able to see the completion of the turtle cycle,” Kristen told Jeff. “It’s something I’ll always remember.”

“If you’re here next year, you may get to see the same little turtles return as adults, to begin the cycle all over again.”

“I’m afraid not,” she said sadly. “Janelle’s school starts next week. She’s flying back to Atlanta on Sunday, and my work here will be over.”

“So you’ll be putting on your career clothes and stepping back into the famous offices of Bradley, Bradley and Kline.”

“I’ve been giving that a lot of thought lately. I think not. I need to make a new start, but I don’t have it all figured out yet.”

Jeff didn’t speak for a few moments. Finally, his tone became more serious. “Kristen, don’t let stubborn pride make you miss out on a chance for happiness.”

“What do you mean?”

“I guess I’m overstepping my boundaries. Good friends do that sometimes. But just don’t be afraid to follow your heart,” he counseled.

She thought about that as they walked along in silence. Good friends didn’t always have to talk, either. Sometimes they could just share the pleasure of understanding and companionship. That’s the way it was with them.

At the door, he said, “I didn’t want to bring it up before, to spoil our party tonight, but I don’t like the looks of that tropical storm. It’s moving this way, and gathering strength as it passes over the water.”

“Well, if it comes, we’ll just close everything up tight and wait it out.”

“It may not be that simple. But let’s don’t worry about it yet. I just wanted to put you on your guard in case anything develops.”

Kristen invited him in. “Let me fix you a cup of coffee before you drive back to the base.”

“No, I’ll have to take a rain check. Things are pretty busy, and I have to get up early in the morning.”

The next day was dark and rainy, and Jeff called her again. “Kristen, that tropical storm has just turned into a full-fledged hurricane—the first of the season. They’re calling her ‘Amy,’ and she seems to be a pretty mean lady.”

“Is there anything we should do to be ready?”

“Yes, that’s why I called. These things turn most of the time, so you may not need to worry, but it’s better to be ready just in case. Bax knows what to do. Just tell him to be sure he has what he needs to board up the windows and secure everything. And fill all your available jugs with clean water.”

“I’m not sure he could handle everything by himself.” She knew Mr. Baxter was a good carpenter, but he was getting up in years. She didn’t want him to get hurt.

“Don’t worry about that, Kristen. He knows some teenage boys who live nearby, who are always happy to make a few extra bucks. Just make sure he doesn’t wait until the last minute to make arrangements.”

The next time the phone rang it was Wes. News of Amy was on all the television broadcasts, and he was watching her movement. “If it even looks like it’s headed your way, take Janelle and the Baxters, and get a couple of motel rooms on the mainland. Don’t take any chances, Kristen.”

She was touched by his concern for his child. “I’ll take care of Janelle. And Mr. Baxter will take care of the Spin-naker.” Her knees had turned to jelly at the sound of his voice, but she retained her composure and continued in her strictly business tone. “All the fishing boats have come in off the water, so there is a good supply of manpower on the island, and everyone seems eager to help.” She gave the receiver to Janelle, who had danced impatiently, waiting for her turn to talk.

All day people were preparing for the possibility of an emergency. Men with long hooks were pulling coconuts out of the palms. “Why are they doing that?” Kristen asked Mr. Baxter. “I should think there’d be a lot of things more important just now than coconuts.”

“They aren’t trying to save the coconuts,” he explained. “Anything that heavy becomes a lethal projectile when it is picked up by a 200-mile-an-hour wind. Right now they are clocking Amy at 148 miles per hour, and she is still growing.”

“Sounds like a bad one.” Kristen listened to the wind, which had picked up in the last few minutes.

“Yep. Better pray she turns out toward the sea.”

“When will we know if she’s going to hit Gaspar?”

“Oh, honey, there’s no way to predict that. Sometimes they twist and turn around and tease you for days. Then other times, they just rush in like a wild boar.”

Kristen pulled on her rain gear and helped gather coconuts, piling them into baskets. She worked all morning, collecting loose boards and bottles, bringing in beach chairs and porch furniture, and anything that looked like it could blow in the wind.

The neighborhood boys, under Mr. Baxter’s watchful eye, were nailing the shutters over the windows of the Spinnaker.

“How about the crow’s nest?” Listening to the nearly howling wind, Kristen thought of those wide plateglass windows.

Mr. Baxter reassured her again. “Those are double windows of tempered glass. We have storm shutters made to fit them, too. The boys will use an extension ladder from the second-floor deck.”

“How about Mr. Beardsley? He doesn’t seem to have many friends. Will someone help him?”

Mr. Baxter chuckled. “You’re right about friends. But, yes, in times of trouble, island people put aside little petty grievances and help each other. I saw some men over there earlier this morning, nailing on his storm shutters. His cottage is small. It won’t take long.”

“Why don’t you call him, just to make sure. I’d be glad to help him if I could, but he doesn’t want me near his place.”

“You’re a fine girl, Kristen. I’ll call him right now.”

But there would be no more phone calls in or out. Mr. Baxter reported that the phone was dead, and that service was probably out on the whole island. “Must be a downed line,” he guessed.

By noon, most of the workers were finished. The house was dark as a cave with all the windows boarded up. Mrs. Baxter had been gathering emergency supplies, and had them set on the dining room table.

“Let’s see. There’s candles, matches, jugs of water, our battery radio, canned goods, a manual can opener. . .” She continued to inventory her supplies.

Kristen shed her wet outer garments by the door, and sank in a chair to catch her breath. A sudden knock at the front door brought her to her feet.

As she opened the door, the wind caught it and whipped it back all the way.

Even covered with his rain slicker, boots, and hat, Kristen could recognize that a uniformed Coast Guardsman stood at the threshold.

“Come in out of the weather, and pull that door behind you,” she said. He obeyed her instructions, then spoke quickly.

“I just came by, ma’am, to tell you folks that we’re going door to door, evacuating the entire island. It looks like Amy’s going to hit here by midnight, unless she changes course.”

“But our boats have been taken in to the marina. Can the taxi boats handle everyone?” Kristen asked him.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. We have Coast Guard cutters down at the wharf. We’ll see that everyone is taken to a shelter.” He paused before leaving and asked, “Is your name Kristen Kelly?”

When she nodded, he held out his hand. “Commander Garrett asked me to give you this note.”

She reached for the piece of paper and thanked him. She held it under the flashlight and read aloud,

“Kristen, don’t try any heroics. Just get Janelle and the Baxters down to the wharf and get on the first boat. The bay is getting rougher by the minute. Wes called on the shortwave radio, and he’s frantic. I promised him I’d see you all to safety, but right now I just can’t get away. I’ll try to get by the shelter later to make sure you are all okay. Just leave now! Your friend, Jeff.”

“We’d better do as he says,” Mr. Baxter told them. “We can’t carry much with us. Just put a change of clothes in a beach bag, and get on your raincoats and we’ll go. The longer we wait, the worse it will get.”

“I’ll get my things and some things for Janelle,” Kristen volunteered. In the near darkness, she could see that the little girl had fallen asleep on the living room couch. “No need to wake her up until it’s time to leave. She’s already troubled enough about all this upheaval.”

She hurried upstairs and threw a few clothes in her canvas bag. She ran into Janelle’s room and grabbed the first things her hands touched, hardly bothering to see what she had. It wasn’t important. Jeff told her to leave now, and she didn’t want to take any chances where Janelle or the Baxters were concerned. She had given Wes her word that she would take good care of his daughter, and she intended to keep her promise.

Downstairs, the Baxters were ready. Mrs. Baxter carried a small bag, and Mr. Baxter carried Janelle. “I didn’t see any reason to wake her up. She’s not very heavy.”

“I could carry her, part way at least,” Kristen volunteered.

“No, indeed. I’m the man of the family today, and I’ll get all my ladies safely ashore. Now let’s get moving.”

It was hard walking against the wind, with the rain pelting down upon them. The wet sand seemed to pull at their feet, and movement was slow. Other people, too, were making their way toward the pier. In the background, Kristen could hear the loud voice of a Coast Guardsman as he shouted through his megaphone. “Complete evacuation of Gaspar Island has been ordered by the United States Coast Guard. Repeat. Mandatory evacuation of Gaspar Island immediately. Transportation is provided from the main pier.”

Over and over again, the message was repeated up and down the island. Kristen looked up as she heard the loud roar of helicopter blades chopping the air above. On through the sand they plodded. It had never seemed so far to the bay. Mr. Baxter’s face was red, and his breath was coming faster.

“Please, Mr. Baxter, put Janelle down and let her walk. I don’t know how she’s sleeping through all of this, but we can wake her. She’s too heavy for you.”

“No, it’s quicker this way. It’s not much farther.”

And it wasn’t. As they approached the pier, Kristen saw two large Coast Guard vessels. The first was almost full of people, but they managed to board and find a place on a bench where they could rest.

Kristen didn’t like the way Mr. Baxter was breathing, fast and hard, his face flushed from the exertion. Mrs. Baxter was watching him closely, concern written on her face.

“This boat is loaded to capacity,” came the announcement. “We will depart momentarily. The second boat will not leave for twenty minutes, and will have room for all additional evacuees.”

As Kristen lifted the sleeping child from Mr. Baxter’s arms, Janelle opened her eyes and looked around. “Where are we?” she asked.

“Don’t be worried, Janelle,” Kristen soothed her. “We’re going over to the mainland. Your daddy wants us to leave the Spinnaker before the storm hits.” She cuddled the little girl close to her.

Suddenly a wail such as Kristen had never heard poured from the abruptly awakened child. Her eyes wide with terror, she screamed, “Timmy! We left Timmy!” and jumped up. It took the three of them to restrain her as she tried to climb out of the boat.

“I’ll go back for him,” Mr. Baxter offered. “I can get back in time for the second boat.”

“No way,” Kristen commanded. “I’m a fast runner. You just stay here and take care of Janelle. I’ll get Timmy and be back in plenty of time. But, Janelle, first you must stop crying and promise to be a good girl for the Baxters. I’ll get Timmy and meet you at the shelter.”

“I promise,” Janelle sobbed penitently. “But hurry, Kristen. He’ll be afraid there by himself.”

Kristen’s legs ached as she ran through the wet sand toward the house. Everyone else was going in the opposite direction, and the second boat was already half loaded. She’d have to hurry. A catch in her side caused her to slow her pace, but persistently she plodded on. Once she reached the wooden walkway it would be easy to run. She could see it just ahead. In the path, she stumbled, then caught herself. She thought she had moved all the debris from the path. What was this? She was just about to step over the impediment when she heard a low groan. Bending over the dark heap, she realized it was a person!

Alive or dead? She had heard the sound. That was encouraging. She knelt on the soft, soggy ground and lifted the head that was partially submerged in water.

“Mr. Beardsley!”