The Grey Between - Katrina

Sandy let her eyes slide over Henry's body as he stood on the porch. He took several long pulls from the joint at his lips, held the smoke, then exhaled. She counted the time from habit. Ten seconds exactly until no smoke from the lungs. The chuckle never made it beyond her thoughts; her beloved was not there.

Thunder split the sky. She jumped; it always frightened her. For him thunder has a different Meaning. She notices his head swivel towards one particularly menacing cloud bank.

"I wanted children once," he spoke. Sandy tensed; his tone suggested that she was once more about to hear one of the Tales he keeps hidden behind his strange façade. "That was before Katrina. See... I headed into the Superdome to take a piss. Dangerous, but I really had to go. Anyhow... I passed by a... child."

His body vibrated slightly. Sandy looked at his profile as he continued.

"I don't know if it was a boy or a girl. Dark hair. Couldn't be any more than... five months? Maybe? Just laying there... on that filth-covered floor. I looked around, but didn't see anyone there. No one... just that child. I went to the bathroom, did my business, and returned.

"The child was still there. I couldn't... just leave the child there. Everything I've ever been taught told me to do something. Pick the child up. Comfort it. Stop its screams of terror with Love.

"But I couldn't. I'd sent my roommate ahead when they called for women and children... before things went totally gonzo. I had myself to consider... and I was ill equipped to care for a child. Hell... I'd released the cat my roommate and I cared for... and that cat saw me through some dark Nights.

"I managed to find a National Guardsman and told them... but was it enough? With everything they had on their plate... Sandy... my Instincts tell me that child is dead. My heart tells me I am to blame... because I could have done more. And every time it comes up a big storm... I find myself waiting for History to repeat itself."

* * * *

Henry never showed fear. Even now there was none in his stance. There was, however, the calm, certain poise of someone waiting for the Big One. His arms seemed to go limp, yet retained an air of instant action.

Even so, the thick gray smoke could not hide the Memories that flowed across his eyes. Sandy longed to hold him. Comfort him. Tell him something... anything. But they would be lies and Henry was not one to lie to.

"The child meets me when I sleep. While I'm up... there is the water.

"You didn't dare swim. You were wary even wading through it... and we did. Myself, my roommate... and a family. Children. A guy near my age in a wheel chair. Elderly. The adults were looking for snakes and gators... almost casually.

"I remember the last look I gave my... Home. I remember actually feeling the Ties being cut by my Will. I remember feeling my heart harden as I turned my back... and feeling something inside of me die a horrid death. I remember reminding myself that they were Things.

"But they Held Memories. The dark Nights spent wandering the famous French Quarter in my duster are as vivid as anything. I miss its weight on my shoulders... and it's been two years. With that duster I'd walk into any storm. Now? Now I cower inside of four wallsrespectfully... like a good little Virginia House Nigga should."

"Come inside," Sandy said quietly. He turned, facing her.

She'd seen this face before. It wasn't timid. It wasn't angry. It was Alive. Henry's normally slow-moving gaze danced with a dark, boundless energy. His body moved with a lazy grace that never failed to arouse her.

Only recently did she understand. This was the Face he wanted to wear... not the plastic professional, utterly emotionless, position perfect façade he wore at work... and nearly always. With casual ease he re-lit the stub of his joint, focusing every Thought on that one action. To others it would be nothing more than the actions of an addict.

For Henry... it was the one Moment when the Child's face wasn't somewhere in his Thoughts.

So she didn't struggle when he sauntered over to her. She didn't recoil... even though the fresh over-funk of marijuana bothered her.

"We need a shower," he chuckled.

* * * *

Sandy's spent. I watch her for several seconds, then pack my bowl and head downstairs. Unlike her, the storm and I are full of energy. Dark... powerful energy.

I can still Feel Katrina coiling up to strike the Gulf Coast. Happens every Summer. When I was little my grandfather, a farmer, taught me how to tell the weather. Even told me the Tales of Indians who could Feel the Weather. Like I can, though I don't think there is any Indian in my family.

But there is Power. The kind most Blacks don't like to talk about... or quickly dismiss with a laugh and change of subject. Maybe that's how I know the storm will die out around 02:00. I could check the weather... but it would only confirm what I already Know.

"And miles to go before I sleep." I chuckle softly before taking a hit. As I exhale the sky flutters to a bright white-blue. Second later a vicious peel roars from the Heavens. I'm moving before the sound dissipates, holding Sandy in my arms. She does not like thunder.

I don't like the Flashback that crawls from the depths of my Memories. I can almost feel the water-line... mid chest right beneath the pectoral muscles. Can't forget it. Can't wash that line away.

I don't speak as I lay down. I'm not tired...

And that Child will be waiting for me.

I hold her close... and pray for Morning.

Fin

Author's Note:

The events spoken of by Henry are my own. This will be the first official Tale crafted around my experiences... and they are by no means the entire Story