Sea City, Here We Come! Read online

  Boy, did he know the right thing to say. All those crying kids were suddenly buzzing with excitement.

  “So settle in, have some grub, and make some new friends,” he continued. “We may be spending quite a bit of time together.”

  I heard a smattering of applause. The sound level rose again, but not nearly as high. A lot more people were smiling, and many were shaking hands and chatting.

  Mr. Pike waved us all toward him. “Okay, let’s have a strategy meeting.”

  “I want ice cream!” Claire said.

  “I know you do,” Mr. Pike replied. “We’ll go to the cafeteria as soon as we stake out some cots. I see quite a few empties in the far corner, so let’s go over there!”

  We picked up our bags and ran. In no time we had staked out a sleeping corner of our own. All the kids (and most of us BSCers) got cots. The grown-ups, Kristy, and Mal agreed to sleep on the floor on blankets.

  As for dinner, well, it was divine. I had a savory helping of canned deviled ham, garnished with canned lima beans (in their own juice). My beverage? A V8 juice cocktail. Topping it off was a stick of sugar-free peppermint gum courtesy of our private confectioner, Claudia Kishi.

  I have to admit, there was something exciting in the air. The kids were screaming and scarfing down food like crazy.

  When it was time to head back to the gym, I took Suzi and Marnie’s hands. Suzi seemed agitated. “What’s up?” I asked.

  “I didn’t bring my pj’s,” she mumbled.

  “Me neither,” Buddy said.

  “Me threether,” Adam chimed in.

  “That’s okay,” I cut in before we got any fourther. (Sorry.) “I think we can sleep in our clothes tonight.”

  “Yippeeeee!” cried the kids. (Isn’t it amazing what kids find exciting and fun? Just thinking about sleeping in my clothes made me feel grungy.)

  When we were halfway across the gym, the lights went out.

  Just like that. No warning, no sound, no electrical dzzzzit, nothing.

  Everyone in the gym fell silent for a moment. Then I heard some baffled mumbling, then some groans, and people calling out for lost family members.

  “Mom?” said Nicky’s timid voice.

  “Stick together, everyone,” Mr. Pike said firmly. “Hold hands and follow my voice.”

  Suddenly about six sets of emergency lights popped on. They cast pools of dull amber light around the gym.

  Slowly we made our way to the cots.

  “Uh, it looks like we lost some power, folks,” the man said through the bullhorn. “We’ll be passing out candles and flashlights in a moment, so just sit tight.”

  Fortunately the Pikes had remembered to bring flashlights of their own — and a radio. Mr. Pike shone his light from cot to cot and blanket to blanket. “Everybody here? Ready for sleep?”

  I heard nineteen yeses. Everyone was being so obedient and quiet. I stretched out, exhausted. What a day!

  And then …

  “Mommy, Buddy kicked me!”

  “Hey, that’s my backpack!”

  “Shhh, I want to sleep!”

  The members of the BSC went to work. “Kids, come on now …”

  Oh, well. It was nice to know, in the middle of one of the worst storms of all time, that some things hadn’t changed.

  You know what? I had a secret wish. My secret wish was that Hurricane Bill would pick up our house and take it to Nebraska. That is where Granny and Grandad live.

  It would be like the opposite of The Wizard of Oz. We would start off in a colorful place, Stoneybrook. And we would end up on a farm.

  And we would not have to pay for plane tickets.

  Well, it did not really happen that way.

  The excitement started Wednesday. That was when my stepsister, Kristy, called her mother to tell her about the hurricane.

  Kristy’s mother, Elizabeth, is married to my Daddy. They live in this gigundo house. My brother, Andrew, and I live there, too, every other weekend. The rest of the time we live with Mommy and my stepfather, Seth. Our house (Mommy and Seth’s) is little. But it is also in Stoneybrook.

  Anyway, we were in the little house when Kristy called the big house. The reason I know was because Elizabeth called us afterward. She said that Kristy said Hurricane Bill had hit Sea City. Everybody was leaving the beach houses. The Pikes and the Barretts and the girls in the Baby-sitters Club were going to drive to a motel for the night.

  After the call, Andrew looked scared. He went to the living room window and stared outside. “Is this the hurricane?” he asked.

  “No, honey,” Mommy answered. “Not yet.”

  Not yet? I guess that meant we were going to get it, too.

  I stood near Andrew and looked outside. Rain was pouring down. The street was covered with water and tree branches. I couldn’t imagine what a hurricane would look like. Poor Kristy.

  The rest of the day I was dying to know what happened in Sea City. Did they find a place for all those people to stay in? Did the hurricane wreck any houses? Was anybody hurt?

  I called Daddy’s house after dinner, but the line was busy.

  I called later and the line was still busy.

  I called a third time and there was no answer.

  I tried to call a fourth and fifth time, but there was not even a dial tone.

  I went into the den. Seth, Mommy, and Andrew were watching the TV news. “The phone is not working,” I said.

  Seth nodded. “The lines are down all over Stoneybrook.”

  Boo, boo, boo. How was I going to find out about Kristy?

  I sat down between Seth and Mommy on the couch. The newscasters were talking about damage to “coastal areas.” We saw videos of smashed houses, waves crashing at people’s front doors, cars up to their roofs in water, people rowing boats down streets covered with water.

  “Is Sea City a coastal area?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Mommy replied.

  “Did they say anything about it on the news?” I went on.

  “They evacuated the beach,” Seth answered. “That means everybody left their houses. Nobody’s been hurt. That’s the most important part. I’m sure Kristy is safe.”

  We watched some more. Then I asked, “Are we a coastal area?”

  “Well, yes,” Seth said.

  “Does that mean Hurricane Bill is coming to Stoneybrook?”

  Mommy put her arm around me. “Sometime late tonight or early tomorrow morning,” she said. “If it stays on course.”

  “Oh.”

  “But we don’t have a boat,” Andrew said.

  “We won’t need one,” Seth replied.

  Andrew didn’t seem convinced.

  I don’t know why I was not scared, but I wasn’t. I was excited! I had never, ever been in a hurricane.

  When a commercial came on, Seth stood up and said, “We better start preparing for this.”

  Andrew and I followed him into the pantry. He found a big roll of masking tape. Then he went from window to window and put tape on them in this pattern:

  I helped him. Soon Mommy came in and helped, too.

  Then we were ready. We watched some more news. After that Andrew and I were allowed to watch a video, since we couldn’t go outside.

  Then it was bedtime. I said good night to everyone and lay down in my bed. I read a little. I looked out the window. The rain was getting worse. The wind was howling.

  Was this the hurricane?

  I lay down again. I talked to Goosie a little (Goosie is my stuffed cat). I read some more. I thought about Kristy. I looked out the window again.

  I did not sleep. At least I do not think I did.

  All I know is that when the tree fell a little way down the block, I heard it. It went CRRRRRRACCKK!

  Then I heard Andrew scream. I ran into Mommy and Seth’s room. Andrew was already in there, crying. “Is this it?” I asked.

  “I think this may be it,” Seth said.

  We went downstairs to the kitchen. Seth turned on the radio. Mom
my made some hot chocolate, even though it was the summer.

  “Hurricane Bill is now sweeping through Stoneybrook,” the radio man said. “Fortunately, at this hour, there are few if any people on the street. The telephone company is still working to restore lines, although that won’t happen for at least another day. The fire department is standing by for emergencies, and a few crews are already clearing debris from the main arteries …”

  “Clearing the Brie from someone’s arteries?” I said.

  I thought Seth and Mommy were going to fall over laughing. “Debris is stuff that’s blown into the street. And that’s what they mean by arteries — streets.”

  “Oh.”

  I looked at the stove clock and saw the time: 3:51. I couldn’t believe it. I was staying up so late!

  Our windows began to rattle like crazy. We looked between the strips of tape, but we couldn’t even see across the street. The rain was like a curtain. And the street was a river. It wasn’t deep enough for a rowboat, though. (Boo.)

  * * *

  I don’t know when I fell asleep. All I know is that when I woke up the next morning, I was in my bed.

  And the sun was shining!

  I looked outside. The front yard was a soggy mess. Branches were all over the place. Someone’s mailbox was in a puddle on the sidewalk. The pavement on the street only showed through in the middle, because the gutters were full of water. A truck with a crane was parked at the corner. The crane reached to the top of a telephone pole, where someone was busily working.

  Seth and Mommy were outside with a few neighbors, cleaning up. I got dressed and ran out to help.

  “I knew those trees would fall someday!” someone was saying. “When they put in the curbs, they cut away the tree roots.”

  I looked down the street. There were three trees, small ones, that had fallen into the street. A fire department truck was pulling up beside the farthest one.

  “ ’Morning, sweetheart,” Mommy said. “The storm is over. No one was hurt. We just have some fallen trees, and a few power lines are down.”

  “Well, there’ll be plenty of wood for winter!” our neighbor said.

  Mommy and Seth laughed. I looked up at the telephone repair person.

  All I could think about was Kristy. I hoped she was all right.

  When I woke up, I forgot I was in the shelter. I thought I was at home. My bed at home is against the wall. So I rolled over and fell off the cot.

  I landed on Mom.

  “Aaaaah!” she screamed.

  “Oh! Sorry!” I said.

  Stacey woke up, too, but Suzi and Marnie stayed asleep. So Stacey stayed with the Sleeping Uglies while Mom and I went to the cafeteria for breakfast. There was toast and jam. Also butter that was way too soft. And coffee. And fruit cocktail from big cans. But nothing else.

  It was a pretty crummy breakfast.

  Everybody woke up soon, even the Pikes. But I was the first one finished with breakfast. I ate three pieces of toast. I was still hungry, but I couldn’t bear another piece.

  Then the guy with the bullhorn came in and told us the sun was shining. We couldn’t tell because of the boards covering the windows.

  You should have heard the place. All these people clapped and cheered.

  Soon Mom said, “Let’s go before the rush.”

  We got out really fast, all twenty of us. Marnie stepped in a million puddles, but no one cared. When I did, Stacey and Mom yelled at me. Even though I was wearing my boots. That is so unfair.

  We got in the car and drove to our house. It took SO LONG. I could have walked there faster.

  As we drove along the main street, Mrs. Pike said, “Looks like we were lucky.”

  I didn’t think so. The Ferris wheel hadn’t fallen down. The store windows hadn’t broken. No cars had crashed. No houses had blown away. No dead bodies were in the street. Nothing had happened.

  It was boring.

  When we reached the houses we saw some cool stuff. Shingles were missing on three roofs. A couple of houses did have broken windows, and someone’s porch had collapsed.

  Finally we got home. I wanted to play on the beach, until I got close to it.

  What a disgusting mess. There were dead fish all over the place. Also soggy clothes and bottles and cans and trash. All the garbage cans were missing. Stacey said the fish were probably using them underwater. She’s funny sometimes, for a baby-sitter.

  We went inside. Everything was exactly where we had left it. But guess what? We had no electricity, even after Mom turned on the circus breakers. And when I went to get some water, the faucet spit at me! Then brown liquid came out, like smelly prune juice.

  I filled a cup and tried to give it to Suzi. She didn’t think it was funny. And Mom and Stacey yelled at me again.

  Soon we went over to the Pikes’. Margo and Vanessa told me we were going to go back to Stoneybrook. But they were lying.

  Mr. Pike said, “Hey, we’ve been through the worst. I think we can tough it out the rest of the way.”

  All us kids said “Yeah!” So did the baby-sitters.

  I thought Mom would want to go home, but even she wanted to stay. “It’ll be fun,” she said. “Cooking out everyday, reading by candlelight …”

  So for two whole days, we had barbecue for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Some neighbors started a group called Operation Recovery, and we joined. I helped a policeman pick up trash on the beach! He called me Buddy, even though he didn’t know that was my name. That happens sometimes.

  At night, we lit candles and told ghost stories. Dawn came over one night and told this scary one about Jared Mullray’s girlfriend — who may still be in Dawn’s barn!

  I was really sad Friday night, because we had to leave Saturday. I think Mom knew how I felt. When she blew out my candle, she sat on my bed and whispered, “Are you okay?”

  “You know,” I answered, “I was scared when Hurricane Bill came. But now I think it was the best thing about the vacation.”

  Mom laughed. “You were a great pioneer, Buddy.”

  “Yeah, like Davy Crockett.”

  Mom began to sing, “King of the Wild Frontierrrrr …”

  I love that song. We sang together. I started feeling better. Then I drifted to sleep.

  You know what? I decided something that night.

  My mom is cool.

  “Hi, Terry, it’s Logan,” I said into the phone,

  Terry is a new friend of mine. He’s another busboy at the Rosebud Cafe. His parents run a big animal farm that’s a tourist attraction in Mercer, Connecticut.

  “Hi!” Terry said. “Listen, I talked to my dad about your idea for your girlfriend’s welcome-home surprise.”

  “Yeah?”

  “He wants to talk to you. I’ll get him.”

  “Okay.”

  I waited patiently. It was Friday, and Mary Anne was coming back the next day. I wanted to do something really special for her.

  I couldn’t wait to see her. Especially after the week I’d had. It had been the absolute pits.

  Why? Well, let me come right out and say it. From the moment I left Sea City, I couldn’t stop thinking about Alex.

  I know, I know. It sounds stupid, but there it is.

  I had tried to put him out of my mind. I mean, he’s just a guy. Just Mary Anne’s friend.

  But I kept thinking how much free time Mary Anne had in Sea City. Was she really going to want to spend it all with the same friends she saw every day in Stoneybrook? No way. I wouldn’t if I were her.

  Monday and Tuesday nights, I kept imagining her and Alex on the Sea City boardwalk. Each night I had this urge to call her — you know, just say hi, how are you. But I thought I might sound suspicious (well, I was). And what if she were out? I’d feel worse.

  So I didn’t call. Instead I just hoped she’d call me.

  I didn’t hear from her. Then Wednesday everyone was talking about Hurricane Bill. I began to feel really worried. I tried to call the Pikes’ house, but no
one answered.

  I was going to try again on Thursday, but that was when the storm hit us. Our phone service went out.

  When I finally got a dial tone, I called the operator. “Hello? Yes, I’m trying to reach Sea City…. No, Sea City. Excuse me? Service is still out? Okay, thank you.”

  “No luck?” Mom asked me.

  “No,” I replied glumly.

  “Cheer up,” Dad said. “The storm wasn’t nearly as bad as they thought it would be. I’m sure they’ll be okay.”

  “Yeah.”

  I knew Mary Anne was still there. If she’d escaped, she would have called immediately. The last postcard I’d received from her was dated Tuesday. She’d mentioned the storm at the very end, after a little section about Alex and Toby.

  I figured they were on the island, too.

  Great.

  I kept trying to be realistic. There were probably a lot of people there. I tried to imagine where they would be. I had heard the houses were evacuated, and the electricity was out. People were probably huddled together somewhere. Maybe in one of the boardwalk shops. Maybe in the Haunted House.

  I was sure Alex was with the Pikes. In a crisis, people always stick with other people they know.

  I could just see it. No lights, everyone pulling together, singing songs and making the best of it. People arm in arm. Like a scene from a movie.

  And in a dimly lit corner sit the hero and heroine. They hold hands and vow to brave it together. Then, as the singing swells and the candlelight flickers, they lean toward each other….

  Bruno, get a grip, I told myself.

  At 9:45, the phone rang. “I’ll get it!” I shouted.

  I ran into the kitchen and picked it up. “Hello!”

  “Hello, Logan? Ohhhhh, it’s so good to hear your voice. What a week! How are you?”

  I was ecstatic. I was relieved. I was angry. I was hurt. So many complicated thoughts were running around in my head. But the only word I could manage was “Mary Anne?”