Kim Robinson - Forty Signs of Rain

Although these images from the Mall dominated the media, some channels carried other news from around the region. Hospitals were filled. The two days of the storm had killed many people, no one knew how many; and there had been many rescues as well. In the first part of the third morning, the TV helicopters often interrupted their overviews to pluck people from rooftops. Rescues by boat were occurring all through Southwest district and up the Anacostia Basin. Reagan Airport remained drowned, and there was no passable bridge over the Potomac all the way upstream to Harpers Ferry. The Great Falls of the Potomac were no more than a huge turbulence in a nearly unbroken, gorge-topping flow. The President had evacuated to Camp David, and now he declared all of Virginia, Maryland, and Delaware a federal disaster area; the District of Columbia, in his words, “worse than that.”

Charlie’s phone chirped and he snatched it to him. “Anna?”

“Charlie! Where are you!”

“I’m still at the office! Are you home?”

“Oh good yes! I’m here with the boys, we never left. We’ve got the Khembalis here with us too, you got my e-mails?”

“Yes, I wrote back.”

“Oh that’s right. They got caught at the zoo. I’ve been trying to get you on the phone this whole time!”

“Me you too, except when I fell asleep. I was so glad to get your e-mails.”

“Yeah that was good. I’m so glad you’re okay. This is crazy! Is your building completely flooded?”

“No no, not at all. So how are the boys?”

“Oh they’re fine. They’re loving it. It’s all I can do to keep them inside.”

“Keep them inside.”

“Yes yes. So your building isn’t flooded? Isn’t the Mall flooded?”

“Yes it is, no doubt about that, but not the building here, not too badly anyway. They’re keeping the doors shut, and trying to seal them at the bottoms. It’s not working great, but it isn’t dangerous. It’s just a matter of staying upstairs.”

“Your generators are working?”

“Yes.”

“I hear a lot of them are flooded.”

“Yeah I can see how that would happen. No one was expecting this.”

“No. Generators in basements, it’s stupid I suppose.”

“That’s where ours is.”

“I know. But it’s on that table, and it’s working.”

“What about food, how are we set there?” Charlie tried to imagine their cupboards.

“Well, we’ve got a bit. You know. It’s not great. It will get to be a problem soon if we can’t get more. I figure we might have a few weeks’ worth in a pinch.”

“Well, that should be fine. I mean, they’ll have to get things going again by then.”

“I suppose. We need water service too.”

“Will the floodwaters drain away very fast?”

“I don’t know, how should I know?”

“Well, I don’t know—you’re a scientist.”

“Please.”

They listened to each other breathe.

“I sure am glad to be talking to you,” Charlie said. “I hated being out of touch like that.”

“Me too.”

“There are boats all around us now,” Charlie said. “I’ll try to get a ride home as soon as I can. Once I get ferried to land, I can walk home.”

“Not necessarily. The Taft Bridge over Rock Creek is gone. You’d only be able to cross on the Mass. Ave. bridge, from what I can see on the news.”

“Yeah, I saw Rock Creek flooding, that was amazing.”

“I know. The zoo and everything. Drepung says most of the animals will be recovered, but I wonder about that.” Anna would be nearly as upset by the deaths of the zoo’s animals as she would be by people. She made little distinction.

Charlie said, “I’ll take Mass. Ave. then.”

“Or maybe you can get them to drop you off west of Rock Creek, in Georgetown. Anyway, be careful. Don’t do anything rash just to get here quick.”

“I won’t. I’ll make sure to stay safe, and I’ll call you regularly, at least I hope. That was awful being cut off.”

“I know.”

“Okay, well…I don’t really want to hang up, but I guess I should. Let me talk to the boys first.”

“Yeah good. Here talk to Joe, he’s been pretty upset that you’re not here, he keeps asking for you. Demanding you, actually—here,” and then suddenly in his ear:

“Dadda?”

“Joe!”

“Da! Da!”

“Yeah Joe, it’s Dad! Good to hear you, boy! I’m down at work, I’ll be home soon buddy.”

“Da! Da!” Then, in a kind of moan: “Wan Daaaaaaaaaa.”

“It’s okay Joe,” Charlie said, throat clenching. “I’ll be home real soon. Don’t you worry.”

“Da!” Shrieking.

Anna got back on. “Sorry, he’s throwing a fit. Here, Nick wants to talk too.”

“Hey, Nick! Are you taking care of Mom and Joe?”

“Yeah, I was, but Joe is kind of upset right now.”

“He’ll get over it. So what’s it been like up there?”

“Well you see, we got to burn those big candles? And I made a big tower out of the melted wax, it’s really cool. And then Drepung and Rudra came and brought their tigers, they’ve got one in their truck and one in our basement!”

“That’s nice, that’s very cool. Be sure to keep the door to the basement closed by the way.”

Nick laughed. “It’s locked Dad. Mom has the key.”

“Good. Did you get a lot of rain?”

“I think so. We can see that Wisconsin is kind of flooded, but there are still some cars going in it. Most of the big stuff we’ve only seen on the TV. Mom was really worried about you. When are you going to get home?”

“Soon as I can.”

“Good.”

“Yeah. Well, I guess you get a few days off school out of all this. Okay, give me your mom back. Hi babe.”

“Listen, you stay put until some really safe way to get home comes.”

“I will.”

“We love you.”

“I love you too. I’ll be home soon as I can.”

Then Joe began to wail again, and they hung up.

Charlie rejoined the others and told them his news. Others were getting through on their cell phones as well. Everyone was talking. Then there came yells from down the hall.

A police motor launch was at the second-floor windows, facing Constitution, ready to ferry people to dry ground. This one was going west, and yes, would eventually dock in Georgetown, if people wanted off there. It was perfect for Charlie’s hope to get west of Rock Creek and then walk home.

And so, when his turn came, he climbed out the window and down into the big boat. A stanza from a Robert Frost poem he had memorized in high school came back to him suddenly:

He laughed as he moved forward in the boat to make room for other refugees. Strange what came back to the mind. How had that poem continued? Something something; he couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter. The relevant part had come to him, after waiting all these years. And now he was out the window and on his way.

The launch rumbled, glided away from the building, turned in a broad curve west down Constitution Avenue. Then left, out onto the broad expanse of the Mall. They were boating on the Mall.

The National Gallery reminded him of the Taj Mahal; same water reflection, same gorgeous white stone. All the Smithsonian buildings looked amazing. No doubt they had been working inside them all night to get things above flood level. What a mess it was going to be.

Charlie steadied himself against the gunwale, feeling so stunned that it seemed he might lose his balance and fall. That was probably the boat’s doing, but he was, in all truth, reeling. The TV images had been one thing, the actual reality another; he could scarcely believe his eyes. White clouds danced overhead in the blue sky, and the flat brown lake was gleaming in the sunlight, reflecting a blue glitter of sky, everything all glossy and compact—real as real, or even more so. None of his visions had ever been as remotely real as this lake was now.