Under the Light - By Laura Whitcomb Page 0,18

go up and try to save certain treasures from the rain? The two nice pictures we had in frames on the dresser—a portrait of my parents and a tintype of my husband as a boy? My grandmother’s christening gown, folded in paper and sprinkled with dried lavender in the cedar chest, should be safe. But my books—I should hurry and save them.

Or should I run downstairs with my girl and close us into the cellar?

If the winds became a tornado, that would be the safest place to hide. The whole house could rip out at the foundations and the cellar would still be there, the two of us dug down in the bottom corner.

Everything in the dining room trembled as we passed through again. Shadow and light mixed in a frightening dance on the other side of the lace curtains. The winds began to take on a human sound, a moan under the hiss and growl of air. I opened the back door and the handle jerked out of my grip before the door slammed into the outside wall. The sky was full of topsoil and leaves, twigs, even a gardening glove with fingers flapping.

I didn’t know I had only a handful of minutes. Or that the cellar was a mistake. That strange feeling in my gut, that something wonderful might be just around the corner, flared back up inside me as we stepped out the kitchen door and into the wind. A thrill shot through me. God made the storm just as God made the rainbow and the calm that comes after the storm. God made the earth and all that dwelled there and also heaven and hell and all the angels and devils that dwell there, too. So there is God in everything, in the wind and the rain and the burning white of lightning.

Maybe if I could have held on to that thought, I might have left that cellar for heaven instead of hell. But then, I never would have found James. So maybe God truly was in the rising water and the darkness and the terror. His eye, the unblinking funnel of cloud at the center of my panic.

CHAPTER 8

Helen

THE SOUND OF A DOORBELL still hung in the air. I watched Jenny, how her eyes darted back and forth—she listened to the sound of footsteps and muffled voices in the hall.

“Jenny?” It was Cathy’s voice, Jenny’s mother, just outside the bathroom door. “Are you feeling sick?” The handle turned, but the door stayed shut.

Jenny twisted the faucet until the water shut off. Next a male voice was on the other side of the door—I knew who it was because I had already witnessed this scene.

“Jenny? Can I talk to you?”

It wasn’t James, of course, simply the body he had borrowed, but the sound still thrilled me.

“Honey, there’s someone here to see you,” called Cathy.

Jenny opened her mouth to speak, but her chin was quivering.

“I’m serious.” Cathy’s tone was harsh. “This is your mother speaking. You let me in this minute.” She was making the hinges rattle.

“Are you hurt?” His voice again.

Jenny finally answered. “No.” But too soft to be heard.

“Open this door!” Cathy’s tone was high-pitched now, on the brink of panic. “I’m going to call the police.” The door shook so hard, the empty pill bottle on the floor bounced. “I’m calling 911!”

“I’m all right!” Jenny shouted. Then she looked at me, but of course she couldn’t see me. At least I didn’t think she could.

Although I knew it was going to happen, I still jumped when the door burst in, cracking the wood frame, and Billy Blake crashed into the room like a fireman.

Jenny blinked at him. She held her knees up to her chest, hiding her nakedness.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He was breathing hard as if he’d run for miles to get to her. I was not in love with Billy, of course, but that particular shade of brown hair and the shape of those hands made my heart ache.

“I don’t know,” said Jenny.

He tore a bath towel off the rack and bent down on one knee, unfolding it over her shoulders like a cape.

“I’m sorry I said I didn’t remember you,” he told her, “when you came to see me today.”

“I came to see you?”

So, she didn’t remember what her body had done while I was its captain. I was not surprised.

Billy reached to the back pocket of his jeans. “After you left, I found this in my room.”

He held the