The pilgrimage to the corridor is swift, but in no way orderly. There is screaming and shouting and pushing.
I feel my body beginning to panic.
This isn’t the first time I’ve heard the sirens go off, but I’ve never been in an actual tornado. And I guess that’s why this doesn’t feel real. I know what hurricanes look like. And flooding. But a tornado sort of feels like a myth to me.
Ruth pulls me by my arm and grabs my jacket from the table where we left our cups of punch.
“Adam!” I shout, and reach for him and Sophia behind us. The good thing about being so tall is the sight advantage.
As the four of us are huddling down together on the floor in this windowless hallway, Freddie rushes in, soaking wet.
My heart nearly stops. I stand immediately and run to him.
He’s in a tux and his pants are a little too short, but he’s holding his cell phone and his keys and he’s panting.
“You’re here,” I say, like he somehow owes me an explanation for his presence.
He shakes the water out of his hair. “It’s bad out there.”
I want to hug him or take his hand, but instead I say, “Come sit down with us.”
Ruthie scoots over and the three of us cram in with the rest of the senior class and whatever chaperones volunteered to be here, while Adam and Sophia sit across from us.
“My gram made me come,” says Freddie.
Ruthie peers over my shoulder. “We didn’t see you inside. Ramona was looking all over the place.”
I give her a sideways glance, and she shrugs.
“I was in the car,” Freddie quietly admits. “I was just going to chill for a while, and then go back home. You remember Lydia?” he asks. “My friend from Viv’s party? She was going to drive down, but the weather was bad up there, too.”
My whole body is racked with guilt as I think of him out in the car by himself when he could have been in here with all of us. The only reason he was out there instead of in here is me. “I’m sorry,” I blurt.
“You didn’t make me come,” he says.
“I know. I just—”
The sirens outside kick up again, and the lights begin to flicker. It’s nothing like a police ambulance. These sirens are more obnoxious than that, and they have to be, because tornadoes can hit at any time, even in the middle of the night.
“We’re all quite safe in this hallway,” says Mrs. Treviño over a few shrieks. “This is a stable building that has survived much worse.”
A stable building. Oh God. Oh Christ. The trailer. Feverishly, I dig through the pockets of my jacket for my cell phone, but there are no bars next to the tiny battery in the corner of the screen.
“Hattie,” I say. I turn to Freddie and then Ruthie. “Hattie’s in the trailer. She’s by herself. I’ve got to get to her.”
I begin to stand, but Freddie pulls me back. “Ramona, wait it out. You can’t go anywhere right now. I promise as soon as it’s clear, I’ll drive you wherever you want to go.”
And then the lights go out entirely. The hallway is lit by the blue light of cell phones. Some students are laughing and making jokes, but I hear a few quiet sobs.
Panic claws at my chest. I wish I could see outside, but the whole purpose of having us here in this hallway is that there are no windows. I pull my knees in to my chest and duck my head in between my legs, not really caring much that I’m in a dress.
Freddie traces patterns into the bare skin of my back, just like he did when Hattie was in the hospital.
Every time I close my eyes, all I can imagine is going home to a slab of concrete and a missing sister. I was so stupid to think I could ever protect her. That I could ever create a real, lasting life for us in that dilapidated trailer.
Above and all around us, the walls and ceiling begin to shake like a freight train is running through the hallway. Ruthie curls into a ball under my jacket at my side, and I grip her hand tightly. Freddie takes off his jacket and holds it over all three of us. I hold on to his leg with my free hand. Dust and drywall falls around us. There’s screaming and crying. It echoes until I can’t tell which howling is louder: the people or the storm.
Wherever Mrs. Treviño has gone, she’s not bothering to comfort us anymore. In the face of Mother Nature, there is no sympathy. She doesn’t care if you’re poor or straight or gay or a guy or a girl. She only cares if you are in her path.
I can’t tell how long we’re sitting there for. It could be two minutes or it could be thirty. But eventually the world stops shaking and everyone slowly quiets. As if we’re all playing dead, waiting for the storm to move on to her next victims.
“Are you okay?” Freddie asks. “Are you both okay?”
I nod as he drapes his jacket over my shoulders. I shine my cell phone light on Adam and Sophia. “Are you guys all right?”
They both nod, but I can see they’re both in about as much shock as everyone else.
“I need to go,” I say. “I need to leave.”
“Is everyone all right?” Mrs. Treviño calls. A bright flashlight flicks on at the end of the hallway. “We’ve got to do a head count before anyone can leave.”
And that causes an immediate uproar from everyone, including me.
“The louder you are,” she shouts, “the more difficult this will be and the longer it will take.”
On the other side of the hallway, I hear someone say, “My dad says everything south of the tracks is wiped.”
My heart plummets into my stomach. I pull my cell phone out again. “I don’t have any bars. Does anyone have any bars?”
“I’ve got nothing,” says Freddie.
“Me neither,” confirms Ruthie. “Oh, wait. Hang on. Here’s something from Saul. It says to call him.”
She tries over and over, but nothing.
I wait in agony for I don’t know how long until finally my phone is struck with several notifications at once. I read them all in rapid succession. “Holy shit. Holy shit.” I stand and run past the chaperone at the end of the hallway. Freddie and Ruthie are close behind.
“Ramona!” calls Freddie. “Slow down! You don’t have a way to get anywhere without me.”
“You three!” shouts someone behind us, but no one has time to chase us down as we bolt through the exit.
“We gotta go,” I shout as I frantically search the parking lot for Agnes’s Cadillac. I turn to them both. “Hattie’s having the baby early. I need to get to the hospital. She’s having an emergency C-section.”