On the edge of a hurricane it might be a little breezy and drizzly. But farther into the hurricane, it gets windier and rainier. There is thunder and lightning too. Then more wind and more rain, till it is blowing and coming down like crazy. At the very center of the hurricane, is the eye. In the eye, everything is calm. No wind, no rain.
But the hurricane is only half over. The next thing you know, the eye has passed, and the other side of the hurricane moves in, with wind and rain and thunder and lightning just as fierce as before. Slowly, slowly the hurricane passes over, and the wind and rain die down, till finally it is only breezy and drizzly again.
Ms. Colman put another map over the large U.S. map. It was of the Atlantic Ocean and eastern United States. She said it was a hurricane tracking map. She drew a big red dot in the ocean near North Carolina, to show where Hurricane Karen had been yesterday. She drew another dot in the ocean near Virginia, to show where Hurricane Karen was now. Then she drew a red line between the two dots, to show the path of the hurricane. At lunchtime, she would listen to the radio in the teachers’ room and find out where the hurricane was then. We would follow Hurricane Karen’s progress, she explained, and track it on the map.
Finally Ms. Colman put the Saffir Simpson Hurricane Scale on the blackboard. The scale is for measuring hurricanes. Depending on how fast the wind is blowing, a hurricane is rated on a scale of one to five:
Category 1: winds 74–95 miles per hour
Category 2: winds 96–110 miles per hour
Category 3: winds 111–130 miles per hour
Category 4: winds 131–155 miles per hour
Category 5: winds 156+ miles per hour
I read the Saffir Simpson scale carefully. Ms. Colman said that Hurricane Karen was a Category 3 hurricane. That meant that it had winds from 111 to 130 miles per hour. Wow! When Mommy drives on the highway, she goes only 55 miles per hour. That meant that Hurricane Karen’s winds were more than twice as fast as a car on a highway! Winds that strong and fierce would do a lot more damage than the storm we had heard the night before, and that was not even a tiny hurricane.
I could not imagine air moving that fast.
And I decided that I did not want to meet the real Hurricane Karen.
Fix-Up Day
On Friday morning Mommy and I watched the weather report on TV. (Usually we do not watch TV in the mornings, but Mommy made an exception because of my hurricane.)
The weatherwoman showed a picture of a big circular storm. It was still over the ocean.
“Hurricane Karen took a surprising turn last night,” the woman said. “Only hours away from making landfall, the storm veered north, away from the Virginia coast. Karen is now about two hundred miles off the coast of Delaware, traveling due north/northeast at seventeen miles per hour. The National Weather Service now predicts that Karen will make landfall in New Jersey or possibly Long Island, New York, within forty-eight hours.”
Long Island! That was right next to Connecticut. Suddenly I felt worried. Was there a chance we would get hit by the hurricane? On the news I had seen people nailing boards over their windows and buying bottled water and canned foods. It had looked scary. I did not want to get hit by a hurricane, not even if it was named Karen.
I looked at Mommy, to see if she was worried too. But she just smiled at me and clicked off the television. “Well, that was interesting,” she said. “Now get your things, Karen. It is time to go to school.”
Mommy did not seem worried, so I felt better. At least for now.
* * *
In all the excitement over Hurricane Karen, I had almost forgotten that Friday was Fix-Up Day at school. Thank goodness I had remembered in time to dress in a T-shirt, overalls, and work boots. (That is my working-in-the-garden outfit.)
After Addie Sidney took attendance, my class went outside. We were all dressed for a day of working in the gardens. It was a beautiful September morning — clear and warm, with a hint of fall in the air. It was strange to think that a terrible storm might be heading in our direction. I kept glancing at the sky, but all I saw was blue sky and a few puffy, white clouds.
While Ms. Colman was explaining which shrubs would be planted where, I sat with Hannie and Nancy under the old oak. We pretended we were princess sisters who were under a spell and made to look like farmers.
Next to the maintenance room were many black plastic buckets with small shrubs in them. There were five different kinds of plants, of different sizes.
Next to the plants was a huge stack of bags of mulch. There was also a small wagon filled with cotton work gloves, small hand trowels, a larger shovel, and some little garden rakes.
Ms. Colman looked at us Three Musketeers. “Girls, would you like to be one team?” she asked.
“Yes!” we cried.
Ms. Colman picked out six of the smaller shrubs and set them close to us. “Here are six little box hedges. These need to go in a straight line over here, by this walkway.”
The walkway was about thirty feet from the old oak. Ms. Colman explained that each plant would need a hole about twice as wide and twice as deep as the plastic pot that held the shrub. Hannie, Nancy, and I nodded.
Then Ms. Colman stuck six short stakes in the ground, each a couple of feet apart, to show where we were to dig. She placed a shrub next to each stake.
“Two holes apiece should be plenty of digging,” Ms. Colman said. “When the holes are done, I will come back and help you set your plants in the ground. Okay?”
“Okay,” we answered.
Ms. Colman handed us each a spade, said, “Happy digging,” and moved off with the wagon.
Now we pretended to be enchanted princess sisters who dug holes for a living. Digging is hard work! Luckily, even though we were pretty far from the oak, we were in its shade. Our old friend was keeping us cool.
When we were done digging and Ms. Colman returned, I asked her, “How old do you suppose that oak tree is, Ms. Colman?”
Ms. Colman looked up from where she was patting soil around the base of a newly planted box hedge.
“Oh, my, I could not say for sure,” she said. “But judging from its size, I would guess that it is seventy or eighty years old. Possibly older.”
“Older than eighty years?” I said. “Wow. That is ancient.”
“It certainly is,” Ms. Colman agreed.
As I put my little shrubs into their holes, I said to them, “You youngsters behave yourselves. You are in the shadow of a grand old tree.”
Hannie and Nancy giggled.
Hurricane Preparations
On Saturday, Mommy, Seth, Andrew, and I watched the news three times. We wanted to know what Hurricane Karen was doing. By Sunday morning, it was starting to look as if Hurricane Karen would not hit New Jersey, but would make landfall at Long Island instead. Hurricanes like to keep people guessing! It seemed as if every time we watched the news, the hurricane had done something new that surprised people. (Sometimes I am like that myself.)
If Hurricane Karen went across Long Island, it would then pass over Long Island Sound. (Long Island Sound is a narrow silver of the Atlantic Ocean.) Then it would hit land again — either in Rhode Island or Connecticut!
When the television news reporters said that people in Connecticut should start preparing to possibly get hit by Hurricane Karen, I felt a shiver go up my spine. This hurricane was practically the scariest thing I could imagine.
“How do we prepare ourselves?” I asked Mommy and Seth.
“Should we get our raincoats and boots ready?” asked Andrew.
“That would be a start,” said Mommy. “But I am afraid we will have to do much more than that.”
“If Stoneybrook takes a direct hit,” said Seth, “we may lose our electricity for several days. The refrigerator will not run, and we will not be able to cook food. Also, floodwaters could possibly make our tap water undrinkable.”
“Oh, no,” I said. I had had no idea that a storm — even a hurricane — could do all that. I held
Mommy’s hand.
“We must remember that it may not hit us after all,” Mommy said. “But in any case, it is good to be prepared. I am planning to go to the supermarket to buy canned food, bottled water, candles, and other things we may need. Would you like to come with me, Karen?”
“Definitely,” I said.
“Andrew can come with me to the hardware store,” said Seth. “I need to pick up batteries for flashlights, radios, and our portable television set, so we can watch the news even if the electricity goes out. And I will swing by the shop to pick up some plywood to nail over the picture window downstairs.”
“Plywood over the windows?” I said. Just like the people we had seen on TV.
“It is just to be safe,” said Mommy. “We want to protect the glass from the high winds.”
I glanced at Andrew. He looked as frightened as I felt. Here it was again: I had to be a good big sister, no matter how scared I felt myself. “Oh, boy!” I made myself say. “This is going to be fun and exciting.”
I glanced at Andrew again. He did not look like he thought the hurricane was going to be fun.
“Ready to go to the hardware store, sport?” Seth asked Andrew.
Andrew nodded seriously.
* * *
The supermarket was very crowded when we got there. It seemed as if everybody in Stoneybrook were there to buy canned goods, candles, and water. I saw Omar Harris and his dad, Addie Sidney and her mom, and one of the people who works in the school cafeteria.
Mommy and I took six gallon jugs of water off the shelf. There were only a few more left. The stockboy said there might be more the next morning, but not to count on it. I hoped Daddy and Elizabeth had already bought their water. Mommy told me that when we got home I could call the big house to make sure they were prepared.
You know what? I decided I did not like hurricanes one tiny bit, even if they were named after me.
Hurricane Warning
On Monday morning at school, everyone was talking about Karen. Hurricane Karen, that is.
I had watched the news on TV in the morning before school. It had felt strange to watch TV while I was eating my Krispy Krunchies. The latest prediction was that the storm would strike the coast of Connecticut within twenty-four hours. We were officially on a hurricane watch. Even though the weatherwoman was not one hundred percent sure, it looked as if Hurricane Karen might be headed our way.
“My dad boarded up all our windows,” said Ian Johnson.
“We have enough canned green beans to last until December,” said Sara Ford. “I hate canned green beans.”
“We might leave town if it looks like the hurricane is going to hit Stoneybrook,” said Pamela Harding, my best enemy. “Mommy has relatives in Pennsylvania. She said if the hurricane comes here, we will just get in our car and go.”
That figures, I said to myself. It is just like Pamela to get going when the going gets rough. (I will tell you a secret. Even though I said this to myself, a little tiny eensy-weensy part of me wished my family and I were going someplace else too.)
“My family is staying,” I said firmly, trying to talk myself into being brave. “My stepfather, Seth, said he would help board up stores downtown. We are as prepared as we can be. We believe in sticking around and helping others during tough times,” I added pointedly.
Pamela sniffed and stuck her nose in the air.
When the bell rang, Ms. Colman asked me to take attendance. Usually I am gigundoly happy when it is my turn. But today my mind was on the hurricane.
During reading that morning, Ms. Colman tried to review our context clues. I love context clues, but no one could pay attention. Even Ms. Colman seemed a little distracted.
Finally she said, “Well, class, it seems that we are not likely to get much work done today. I am as anxious as you all are. So why don’t we have individual reading time for half an — ”
Just then the voice of Mrs. Titus, the principal, came over the loudspeaker. I jumped in my seat. Mrs. Titus hardly ever uses the loudspeaker.
“Attention, attention, please, all classes,” came Mrs. Titus’s voice. “An actual hurricane warning, not a watch, has just been issued for a wide area of Connecticut, including Stoneybrook and the surrounding towns.”
I gasped and turned to look at Hannie and Nancy. Their eyes were big and round.
“Classes are being dismissed for the day, so that students and teachers can get home safely and prepare for the hurricane,” said Mrs. Titus.
I put my hand over my mouth. Oh my goodness! Hurricane Karen was heading for Stoneybrook!
Hurricane Karen Strikes
It took a long time to contact everyone’s parents. Thank goodness Mommy was at the crafts center. When the school secretary called her, she came right away. On our way home, we picked up Andrew from preschool. Merry Perkins went home early so she would not get caught in the storm. I told her to take care of herself.
Mommy, Andrew, and I ate lunch quietly. We all kept looking at the sky. It had been dark and cloudy all day, but by afternoon it began to rain. There was a strong breeze. Already I could see leaves and twigs flying through the air.
“Is this the hurricane already?” I asked Mommy.
“It is the hurricane’s leading edge,” Mommy explained. “The storm will get much stronger during the night.”
I was so happy when Seth came home. I felt safer somehow, and I know Mommy did too. Mommy made an extra-special dinner that night to cheer us up, and guess what. For dessert, we tried to eat every bit of ice cream in our freezer!
“After all, if we lose power, the ice cream will go bad,” said Mommy, scooping it out. “We cannot let food go to waste.”
Andrew and I smiled at each other.
After dinner, Seth nailed large pieces of plywood over our picture window downstairs. Mommy, Andrew, and I went around our house putting long strips of masking tape over our other windows. It was to help keep them from breaking. And it would hold the glass together if the windows did break.
That night, I could not fall asleep. Neither could Andrew. We wound up in bed with Mommy and Seth. I know that was kind of babyish, but we could not help it. The storm was getting louder and louder. Rocky and Midgie were already hiding under the bed.
Mommy sang a song that went, “Que será, será. Whatever will be, will be.”
I must have fallen asleep finally, because the next thing I knew I was in my own bed and a murky light was showing in my window. And goodness gracious, was the wind ever blowing! I pulled back my curtain. Rain splattered against the glass as if someone were shooting a hose at it.
I ran downstairs. Mommy was in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee.
“Is this the hurricane?” I yelled over the howling of the wind. I looked at the ceiling. The light was on. We had not lost power yet.
Mommy nodded. “This certainly is,” she shouted back.
Just then Andrew padded into the room in his footy pajamas. There was a tremendous crack of thunder. Andrew burst into tears and ran into Mommy’s arms.
“Okay,” she said, patting his back and hugging him. “It is only a little thunder.”
Suddenly I felt like I needed a hug too. I hurried to Mommy, and she held me tight.
Then I realized something. “Where is Seth?” I asked. “Is he still asleep?”
“He left a couple of hours ago, just before the storm got bad,” Mommy said. “He was going downtown, to see if anybody needed help with last-minute storm-proofing.”
“He is outside in a hurricane?” I asked, shocked.
“Seth will be fine,” Mommy said. “You do not need to be worried about him.”
But I was.
* * *
I had never seen rain come down so hard. There was no space at all between the raindrops. At times the wind blew so hard that the rain did not seem to be falling. It was just flying straight across the ground.
Other things were flying around too. Andrew and I saw leaves, sticks, branches, bits of tras
h, a garbage-can lid, a cardboard box, a plastic lawn chair, and the garbage can that went with the garbage-can lid all go skittering and bouncing down the street. Our gutters ran deep with rain, and the water was flowing fast, like a stream.
And the thunder and lightning! At first Andrew was terrified of the thunder (I did not like it much myself), but after a few hours he got used to it. There was just so much of it that it was impossible to be terrified by every single crash. But we wrapped my blanket around our shoulders to feel cozy and snug, and held hands.
Around ten o’clock we lost electricity in the house. My room suddenly went dark, almost as dark as night.
“Are you guys okay up there?” called Mommy from downstairs.
Andrew and I felt not so okay, but he nodded at me. “Yes,” I called back. “We are fine.”
“All right,” said Mommy. “Please be careful on the stairs if you come down. I will turn on the battery-operated radio to listen for information about the storm.”
Andrew and I sat silently and watched the amazing storm outside. After awhile, Mommy came upstairs and sat with us. She put her arms around us.
“The radio says the eye of the storm is headed this way,” she said. “That means this hurricane will feel worse for us before it feels better.” She smiled and hugged us. “I am so thankful to have you both with me here, safe.”
I had an idea. Seth was out somewhere, where we could not call him. But what about my big-house family? I could call them. Were they all right? Were they frightened? Did they have candles and batteries?
“Mommy, may I call the big house?” I asked.
“Yes, that is a good idea,” said Mommy.
I jumped up and ran to the phone. But when I picked up the receiver, there was no dial tone. Our phones had gone dead.