The Sound of Rain Read online

  Floyd squinted up at the sky. “Backside of the storm’ll pull a lot of this water on out. We may get killed by a falling tree, but we’re not likely to drown.” He nodded his head once, as though he’d found everything to be satisfactory, and then went back inside. “Don’t you linger now. This storm ain’t over.”

  Judd stood, feeling like he’d missed the lesson leading up to this test. He leaned to the side and tried to look past the flooded houses on the other side of the street. He couldn’t say for sure, but it seemed like there was a whole lot more open country than before. Maybe it was just all that water. He felt a tickle of wind and hurried back inside.

  Larkin huddled in the dark hallway beside her mother. She’d dragged out a pillow and blankets to try and sleep, but it was mostly too hot and too frightening to rest. Daddy kept getting up to check things, which was just silly since he couldn’t do anything about anything. She couldn’t stop thinking about Judd. Her latest fantasy was that Ben would want her to join him immediately and Judd would escort her to Kentucky, just to make sure she was safe, and then be so touched by her dedication that he’d stay and . . . Oh, what was she thinking?

  Daddy would never let her go by herself, much less with a timberman. She was going to have to plan her escape. Just as soon as she heard back from Ben. . . . A sudden thought struck her and she half rose. Her mother gave her a questioning look, and Larkin settled back into place with a sheepish smile.

  Her letter was in a mailbox that might very well be washed out to sea by now.

  Daddy came back into the hall and slid down the wall opposite them.

  “What’s happening out there, George?”

  He puffed his cheeks and blew air. “Two live oaks I can see are down out front. A piece of Harold Williams’s roof has blown off, and Mrs. Enright is going to need a whole lot of work done on her porch. Palmetto tree has taken out the side closest to us. Can’t see as the water has made it this far inland, though.”

  Larkin felt her mother shudder. “If it did, we’d need Noah’s Ark.”

  “How much longer do you think it’ll last?” Larkin asked.

  “The eye is passing and the storm seems to be moving fast. Not too much longer, I think.”

  Larkin clutched a pillow to her chest and listened for the wind to start again. She’d begin making plans as soon as they were in the clear. And Judd Markley needn’t figure into her future at all.

  Judd and Floyd stepped out of the house after the worst of the storm had passed. Wind still whipped, but it was nothing compared to the power of the hurricane at its height. A few other folks were out in the neighborhood, looking over the damage and marveling at the chaos. A wooden beach chair sat in the middle of the street, and part of what looked like an Esso sign rested on top of a car next door.

  Floyd kicked at some bits of wood and metal that found their way into the lee of the front porch. “Gonna take some work to get this all sorted out,” he said.

  “Will it be worse down toward the beach?”

  “Sure as shootin’. ’Course, that’s more likely the kind of work you’d need a dozer for. Probably won’t be a whole lot left to fix up.”

  Judd looked that direction. “I might walk down there and see for myself.”

  Floyd waved him on, seemingly content to poke around the boardinghouse.

  “You be alright here on your own?”

  Floyd’s laugh sounded dry. “Safest I’ve been all day.”

  Judd grinned and started toward the ocean at a trot. The closer he got, the slower he moved. It was as though a giant hand had reached down to sweep away anything within two blocks of the ocean. And it hadn’t been tidy about it, either. Houses had been lifted from their foundations and set into the street. Cars were piled up in a heap like so many bathtub toys, and there was sand everywhere. Judd had simply never seen anything like it. He finally made it to the Pavilion and found the building still standing, although it was the only thing solid in the midst of destruction. The beach looked like a lumberyard. Surrounding buildings were collapsed with shards of broken boards and metal jutting out at odd angles. He’d never seen such devastation and it unnerved him that chaos like this could come from the sky. He’d thought having a mountain hanging over his head was worrisome, but this . . . this came from the very air around him.

  He looked up the beach toward the pier, but there was just blue sky and rubble where it used to sit. Judd listened to the surf, still rough, but back in the sea where it belonged. He noticed a refrigerator sitting at an angle in the sand and, overcome with curiosity, picked his way to it. He opened the door and found food still inside. He jumped when a twisted piece of metal broke loose and clattered to the ground. No one else had ventured this close to the ocean yet, maybe for good reason. He suddenly felt very alone and exposed. He turned and hurried back to the boardinghouse. He guessed maybe there was just as much to fear above ground as beneath it.

  Back at the house, he didn’t see Floyd right off, so he circled around back looking for him. As he walked around the side he saw the vine he’d taken from Larkin had finally burst into full bloom. It twined happily on the string Judd tied for it to cling to. Apparently a little wind and rain had been just the thing. He touched a vibrant petal and then remembered his task. He walked on around back and found Floyd sitting on the steps, looking pale. He noticed a handkerchief wrapped around the old man’s left hand.

  “You alright?”

  “Aw, I was poking around back there and cut my hand on a piece of tin roof. Durn foolish thing, trying to lift that bit of rubbish.” He grimaced. “I don’t suppose it’ll kill me.”

  Judd sat beside him and looked a question at his hand. Floyd extended it, turning his head the opposite direction.

  “Never have much liked to see my own blood.”

  Judd peeled back a layer of saturated fabric and found a deep gash in the piece of flesh connecting thumb and index finger. Looked like he’d tried to slice the thumb off and didn’t quite get the job done.

  Judd rewrapped the hand and then added his own bandanna. “It’s a beaut. I’m thinking it might not be a bad idea to get you on over to the hospital so a doctor can take a look at that.”

  Floyd’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “They most likely have their hands full without having to mess with a foolish old man who ain’t got the sense to leave all this trash to somebody younger.”

  “You’re probably right. Might be we could give them some help. Carry fresh water, direct traffic—something.”

  “How we gonna git there?”

  Judd looked up and down the street. “It’s not too awful far. Maybe if we start walking, somebody’ll give us a ride.”

  Floyd shook his head. “I dunno. Can’t walk so far as I used to.”

  Judd looked around and spotted a child’s wagon jammed under the sagging porch next door. He retrieved it with a mighty tug and trundled it over to Floyd. “All aboard,” he said with a grin.

  Floyd tried to laugh. “This here cut does hurt something fierce. Might be some nurse could bandage it up proper and then we can tote supplies for them as are really sick.” He stood, wobbling a little. “Let’s give her a shot.”

  He climbed into the wagon, knees at odd angles. Judd gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile and started the long haul to the hospital.

  Chapter

  14

  As soon as the storm abated, Larkin’s father set out, determined to get to his office and learn what damage had been done to the various timber sites. Larkin couldn’t think what good it would do since the phone lines were almost certainly out everywhere, but decided it wasn’t her concern. She and her mother went out to see what had happened in their neighborhood.

  A police car wound its way onto the street, and Mother waved it down to ask what was happening throughout the area.

  “It’s an awful mess, ma’am. Y’all are pretty lucky here—looks like your houses are still standing and not too many trees down. Some places have been wiped clean. Houses gone
or broken up like kindling.” He looked them up and down. “There’s a shelter at the high school, and the hospital could use a hand if y’all feel like helping out.”

  Larkin surged forward. “I’m a candy striper at the hospital. I’d be glad to go help.”

  “Hop in. I’ll get you there.”

  “Larkin, your father might prefer you stay at home.” Mother placed a restraining hand on her arm.

  Larkin squeezed Mother’s fingers and then opened the door of the police car. “I know, but this is the right thing to do.” She didn’t even glance back as the young officer began driving away, steering through the debris.

  At the hospital, Nurse Enright immediately set Larkin to the task of talking to anyone who came in who didn’t appear to be hurt. She had a clipboard with a hastily scrawled list of places people could go for help. She also handed out cups of drinking water, and someone stuck several crates of bananas in the corner, so she handed those out, too. Everyone who came in had a sort of stunned expression and seemed grateful just to have someone to talk to. They poured out stories of being carried away by the storm surge or crouching on top of furniture as water licked at their toes. Some had been trapped in the tops of trees until the water subsided. Larkin felt exhausted just listening to what had happened to folks.

  “You look like you could use a break.”

  Larkin had just finished talking to a mother with two children whom she’d told to wait in a specific spot outside. A Salvation Army truck would be along to take them to the shelter at the high school. She turned to see who had spoken.

  “Judd.” She dredged up a weak smile. “Looks like we both survived.” Then it occurred to her he’d come to the hospital. “Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?”

  He smiled. “Nope. Fine as frog’s hair. Just brought a friend in with a nasty gash on his hand.” He laughed softly. “Tried to haul him here in a wagon, but thank the Lord a truck picked us up and brought us on in.”

  “Will he be alright?” Larkin let Judd lead her to some chairs behind a screen where they both sat. There had been a lull in the people coming in, so she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to rest a bit. And oh, her feet did ache.

  “I think he’ll be fine. ’Course, it’ll be a while before they get him seen. Lots of folks worse off, waiting back there for some doctoring.”

  Larkin rubbed her gritty eyes. She must look a mess, but she was too tired to care. “So what did you think of your first hurricane?”

  Judd grinned. “I think I’d like for it to be my last.”

  She laughed. “Going back to your mountains, then?” She asked the question lightly, but it occurred to her she liked having Judd around and would miss him if he did go.

  His smile fell away and he rubbed his hands on his pant legs. “I might go back there one of these days.” He wrinkled his forehead. “Seemed awful important to leave when I did, but now . . . well, I guess I’ve changed some.”

  “Me too.”

  He raised his eyebrows, and Larkin couldn’t resist what felt like an invitation to share her heart. “I’d already decided I was going to go work in the mission field as soon as I hear back from . . . well, as soon as someone I know tells me where to come. Of course, my letter might be lost in the storm, so I suppose I’ll have to write to him all over again.” She glanced back at the waiting room where some more people had entered. “And now, after being here all afternoon helping people, I just know it’s what I’m meant to do.” She stood and refastened her ponytail. “I know you don’t think much of my going to help people in your mountains, but I feel more determined than ever to go. This”—she swept her arm to indicate the room and the people waiting—“has made up my mind. Letter or no letter.”

  She touched Judd’s shoulder, smiled, and headed back to her post with a lightness of heart. Yes, she was tired, but she had a purpose and it was good.

  Judd watched Larkin go talk to the newcomers and saw how her smile soothed them. He had scoffed at her plans, but watching her now made him think she might be made of sterner stuff than he’d imagined.

  He rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor between his boots, thinking about how Larkin had a dream, an ambition to change the world. What did he want? All he’d been doing since he woke that day in the hospital, leg encased in plaster, was run away from losing Joe. But had he wanted anything even before that day?

  He remembered a time when he was nine or ten years old. Dad had taken the whole family to a tent revival, and even now he could remember that young preacher. Tall and thin as a rail, he’d towered over the makeshift pulpit. He’d leaned into the crowd, talking about eternal life and . . . how had he put it, “the quickening of the Holy Spirit”? Judd had heard plenty of hellfire and brimstone, but that was the first—and maybe the only—time he’d heard that God loved him and wanted to lead him through life. Judd remembered wanting that, too.

  On the last night, when the preacher called anyone who wanted to be indwelt by the Spirit to come on down to the altar, Judd had stood and taken two steps. That’s when his father caught him by the collar and jerked him back.

  “You ain’t old enough to understand, and no son of mine is going to make a false profession of faith.” His father glared at him. “Sit on down and we’ll talk when you’re old enough not to be taken in by pretty words.”

  Until that moment, Judd had felt a growing conviction that he had a purpose—a reason for being that was about to be revealed. But his father said he was too young to know what life held for him, and Judd believed him. He guessed he’d never bothered to wonder what plans God had for him after that night.

  Judd raised his head and watched Larkin. There was something about her, a kindness that went deeper than her lovely face and charming ways. It was like she somehow had more life in her than anyone else around.

  Judd suddenly wanted to tell her he’d take her to West Virginia or anywhere else she wanted to go. But then he remembered that she was waiting to hear from someone—this Ben fellow. Probably a beau. Probably a man who was smart enough to run right on down here and snap Miss Larkin Heyward right up the minute she said she was willing.

  Getting to his feet, Judd started for the door. He’d leave Larkin to her overflow of life and go see if Floyd had been tended to yet. Then he’d best see how he could help folks clean up all that mess out there. He didn’t know what he was made for, but he did know he could work as hard as any man.

  Halfway across the room, Judd stopped and jogged back to Larkin, who turned from her latest customer to turn that smile on him. He swallowed hard.

  “I went on down to look at the Pavilion once the storm was over.”

  Hope lit her face. “Is it still there?”

  “Sure thing. Wet and dirty and maybe a little rough around the edges, but it’s standing.”

  Larkin reached up and hugged him. “Thank you for telling me. I don’t know when I’ll ever dance there again, but the Pavilion will always have a special place in my heart. It’s a comfort to me knowing it’s there if I ever decide to come back.”

  Judd rubbed the back of his neck where it felt as though her fingers had seared his skin. “Thought you’d want to know.” He nodded once and turned to leave again. This time he couldn’t think of a reason good enough to turn around.

  Chapter

  15

  NOVEMBER 1, 1954

  Judd had to admit, he liked driving this car. Especially on the brand-new turnpike into his home state. They were calling this stretch of highway “the engineering marvel that beat the mountains.” Judd didn’t think the mountains were beaten exactly, just tamed a touch.

  Larkin’s convertible looked like an exotic bird blown off course, but he didn’t care. The deeper they got into the mountains, the more suspicious folks were when they stopped, but as soon as they got a good look at Judd and heard him speak, they eased up a mite. Of course, even his mountain twang couldn’t quite convince locals that he and Larkin belonged there. Folks could tell there wa
s a story brewing and no one liked to be left out of a good story. Judd figured it wasn’t his story to tell.

  As they approached Beckley and the last of the highway that had been opened, Judd glanced at Larkin where she’d fallen asleep against the window. He still wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but he couldn’t pass up a chance to give Abram a hand. As glad as he’d been to get away from the home place, seeing the mountains rise in front of him felt right. Larkin stirred and sat up with a yawn.

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Where are we?”

  “Been in West Virginia for a little while. Probably take us another couple of hours to get to Bethel.” He turned off the highway onto a two-lane. The roads would get steadily narrower from here on out. “You sure you don’t want me to take you to this place in Kentucky? I can hitch a ride back home from there.”

  Larkin was quick to answer. “No, someone will come fetch me. Or more likely I’ll drive myself on over. You’ve already done enough bringing me all this way.”

  Judd downshifted into a turn. “Couldn’t hardly keep away after getting that letter from Abram. Hurricane Hazel didn’t stop to catch her breath after wiping half the coast off the map. They say it made it all the way to Canada where it was almost as bad as in the Carolinas.”

  Larkin looked out the window. “We’re lucky no one died in Myrtle Beach. The death toll other places just keeps climbing.”

  Judd hated to see Larkin looking sad. “Well, everybody’s fine at home—just trying to clean up from all that wind and water. Thank goodness Abram and Lydia got the garden put up before the rain came. But there’s a bridge out, and the church down on the river was pretty much washed off its foundation.” He felt like he was babbling, but he wanted to talk to Larkin and couldn’t think of what else to talk about. “Barn roof’s half gone. I’m thinking that’s where Abram and I’ll get started.”