Beautiful Girl, Stay With Me. (Songs of the Storm, part 2) (Cassandra Project)
Cassie wandered the hardware store, taking a deep breath as they got closer to the the lumber. Joshua automatically returned an approaching clerk's smile and shook his head to indicate they didn't need her help. She shrugged and climbed back up the ladder.
“Okay, so why are we here?” He asked Cassie, who seemed to be counting invisible objects.
“Hm? Oh, preparation of course.” She finished her count. “We'll need about 14 sheets. Maybe 16.”
“Would that be ferrets or monkeys?”
“Plywood.” She poked him. “This is your first hurricane season so I want to make sure you;re prepared. Besides, we get stuff now so we're not waiting in lines later.”
“Allegedly there's not a storm in sight,” he reminded her.
She stopped in mid stride, turned to face him and folded her arms. “Do I have to remind you who you're talking to? Honestly!”
He rolled his eyes and took her arm, steering her back on course. “Plywood... what for? You're building a playhouse?”
“No, a doghouse for you.” She stuck out her tongue. “We have to board up the windows because debris could fly about during storms. Broken glass sucks. Also discourages looters. We need batteries and good flashlights, too. A fire extinguisher wouldn't hurt either. I don't have a hammer or an ax, need one of each..
“Wait, wait...” He shook his head. “An ax? What?”
“To cut a hole in the roof if need be.” Her eyes looked haunted. “Water rises fast.” Her face cleared and she continued to list supplies. “Nails, need nails...”
Joshua pulled the rented van in front of the apartment building. Cassie threw off her seatbelt and jumped out. “Just stick the plywood in the shed. We won't need it for awhile.”
He tucked the keys in his pocket. “So when do we put that stuff up? And can I say thank the gods we're on the bottom floor?”
She looked away and after a long moment answered his question. “As soon as they say it's headed this way. That phrase is greeted in two ways: apathy and panic.”
“Yours?”
When she turned, he could see her eyes dark with some unnamed future. “Waiting. Done it for centuries.” She busied herself with grocery bags to avoid further conversation.
He spent the better part of an hour slogging plywood and 2x4s to the small shed in the corner of the postage stamp yard. He put the hammer, nails and ax on a shelf and nearly bumped into Cassie, her face still grave. She took the ax and walked back into the building, her tread heavy and shoulders squared.
From his angle, she looked like a gladiator preparing to face a tiger. He shook away the image and picked up the remaining hardware store bag full of batteries and flashlights before heading in.
The back door was open slightly and he could hear Cassie crying. “Why?” she sobbed “Why are you doing this? All those poor, poor people! No one deserves this! This is cruel beyond even you!” Her sobs got louder, harder. “Why hurt him?” she whispered. “Why? Hasn't he suffered enough?”
Joshua dropped the bag and cursed loudly before coming through the door.
Cassie was kneeling on the kitchen floor, unpacking grocery bags. The eyes in her pale face were red. “Are you taking the van back today?”
“I considered it.” He passed her the bag in his hand. “We could get our deposit back if we do.”
“Yeah. Good point.” She took the bag.
“Where's the ax?”
She didn't look at him. “In the attic. I made sure it was right by the trapdoor in case someone goes up there before us.”
He frowned. “Will we have to?”
She paused, shoulders drooping a bit. “Perhaps. While you're out, can you grab me another pound of coffee?”
“Yeah, sure.” He kissed the top of her head. “I'll cab it back. I've my phone if you think of something else we need, okay?”
He left before she could answer and closed his eyes as the sounds of her tears through the door raked across his soul.