topic of conversation. Farmers studied the sky the way a priest read the word of God, looking for clues and signs and warnings. But all of it from a friendly distance, all of it with a faith in the essential kindness of our planet. But in this terrible decade, the weather has proven itself to be cruel. An adversary that we underestimated at our peril. Wind, dust, drought, and now this demoralizing rain, I fear—
Thunder exploded in a deafening craaaaack.
“That was a bad one,” Loreda said. Ant looked scared.
Elsa closed her journal and got up. She was halfway to the flaps when the tent collapsed around them. Water rushed in, sucked at Elsa’s legs. She shoved her journal in the bodice of her dress and reached out blindly for her children. “Kids! Come to me.”
She heard them clawing at the wet canvas, trying to find their way.
“I’m here,” Elsa said.
Loreda reached her, held her hand, kept one arm around her brother.
“We have to get out,” Elsa said, fighting to find the tent flaps.
Ant was crying beside her, clinging to her.
“Hang on to me,” Elsa shouted to him. She found the split in the fabric, wrenched the flaps open, stumbled out with the children. The tent whooshed past them, taking their belongings with it.
The money.
A gush of water hit Elsa so hard she almost fell.
Lightning flashed; in the light, she saw utter destruction. Garbage and leaves and wooden crates floated past, riding the torrent, there and gone in a second.
Holding tightly to her children’s hands, she slogged against the rising tide of water and made her way to the Deweys’ tent. “Jean! Jeb!”
The tent collapsed just as the Deweys crawled out.
The sound of people screaming rose above the howl of the storm.
Elsa saw headlights out on the road, turning. Coming their way.
She spat rain, pushed the wet hair out of her eyes, and yelled, “We need to go that way, toward the road.”
The two families stayed close together, all holding hands. Elsa’s boots filled with muddy water. She knew her children were barefoot in this cold, wet water.
Together they fought their way toward the headlights. There was a row of cars parked on the main road, headlights pointed at the camp. Halfway there, Elsa saw a line of people with flashlights. A tall man stepped forward, wearing a brown canvas duster and a hat that sagged in the rain. “This way, ma’am,” he yelled. “We’re here to help you.”
The Deweys made it to the row of volunteers. Elsa saw someone hand Jean a raincoat.
Elsa looked back. Their tent was gone now, washed away, but the truck was still there. If she didn’t get it now, she would lose it.
She pushed her children forward. “Go,” she said. “I have to get the truck.”
“No, Mom, you can’t,” Loreda shouted.
Rushing water tried to push Elsa over. She pulled Ant’s wet hand out of hers and shoved him at Loreda. “Get yourselves to safety.”
“No, Mom—”
Elsa saw the tall volunteer heading their way again. She pushed her children toward the man, said, “Save them,” and turned back.
“Ma’am, you can’t—”
Elsa fought her way to the truck, which was running-board deep in water. A plastic doll in a muddy pink dress floated by, blue marble eyes staring upward. Mud and water had swept their campsite away; everything was gone. The stove had been knocked over; water swirled over it. She thought about the box that held their money and knew she’d never find it.
She climbed into the truck, grateful for once that she kept the keys in the glove box. Auto theft was low on anyone’s mind when gas was unaffordable.
Please start.
Elsa turned the key in the ignition.
It took five tries and five prayers before the truck grumbled and groaned and came to life.
She turned on the headlights and put the truck in gear.
The truck jostled from side to side, fighting its way out of the mud. Elsa kept her hands tight on the wheel; her feet worked the pedals. The vehicle rolled and bucked and sometimes the engine whined, but finally the tires found purchase.
Elsa drove slowly out to the road, where a string of volunteers helped people into cars. She saw Loreda step out of an old-fashioned, wooden-cabbed truck into the pouring rain and wave her hands in the air. “Follow us, Mom!”
* * *
ELSA FOLLOWED THE OLD truck into Welty. On a small, deserted street by the railroad tracks, it pulled up in front of a boarded-up hotel. On either side of the hotel were