The ring wouldn’t stop, and as I walked towards it I could see how bad the storm had gotten. A few trees lay where they’d fallen, water ran in rivulets towards the edge of the forest, the sky a milky gray. I’d felt the earth quake beneath us but thought it was the heat of the moment.
“Yeah?” I said, picking up the phone.
I’d only heard this ring once, and that was the summer before my junior year of high school. Two large earthquakes in Sonoma County were causing freakishly large waves on the beaches of Big Sur. “A possible tsunami warning,” my grandfather had said, twinkle in his eye. I was fucking freaked out, imagining a wall of water sweeping the bookstore away, my grandfather and I trying to stay afloat on giant volumes of Keats’ poetry.
We’d stayed up most of the night, every so often sneaking out to the cliffs to watch the waves crash against the beach—an idiotic idea if a tsunami wave had come. It would have swept us away in an instant. But I never forgot that night, seeing the reverse-side of Big Sur’s magnificence—the supreme danger of nature when she’s angry. The way the waves rocked the shore I could picture, thousands of years ago, the way the water had carved away this beach, eroded the rocks into the very cliffs we were standing on. I spent the next two days reading Moby Dick and shivering, dreaming of monsters beneath the surface.
“It’s Gabe. Are you guys okay?”
“We’re fine, why?” I asked slowly. I was this close to having the most intense sexual encounter of my life, but other than that…
“There were two massive rockslides along Highway 1, one at the entrance to Big Sur and one on the way to San Luis Obispo.”
“Is anyone hurt?” I asked, staring outside and into the darkness. A rockslide. That must have been the roaring we’d heard.
“No, thank God. It missed Susan Davenport’s home by a few hundred feet. The Mayor’s home too.”
“Jesus.” Natural disasters were deeply felt here—there weren’t that many people, and emergency services had a hell of time getting out to such a remote location.
“Listen, you and I should be fine. Your grandfather had a huge stash of emergency food and water in that pantry and the bar does too. But you’ve got to let the Hollywood folks know they’re going to be stuck here for a bit. A few days, at least.”
I glanced back at the poetry room where Lucia stood, a goddess wrapped in blankets, concern on her face. I tried to ignore my willful heart, uplifted by the possibility she would be staying longer.
“They’re not going to be happy about that. For how long?”
“Not sure. Road crews have to get out there. But it’s enormous, Cal. I’d say at least five days.”
“Holy shit,” I said, which caused Lucia to look up at me in alarm. I pushed my glasses up my nose, shifting on my feet. She tilted her head and I shrugged. “And I’m guessing whatever cell or internet service we did have has been knocked out, right?”
“For a few days, yeah. You’ll deliver the information to everyone tonight?”
“Of course. The first cabin has an emergency phone—it’s Ray’s, I think. I’ll ring him, gather everyone together if it’s safe to walk over.”
There was a sharp knocking at the back door and then a crowd of people barged in, including Ray. Lucia clutched her chest, eyes wide, and then she scurried back into the Poetry Room to put on more clothing.
“Or maybe not,” I said, laughing. “They all just showed up.”
“One thing you should, uh, know,” Gabe said, clearing his throat. “Josie’s here. With me. The crew was drinking at the Bar tonight and she stayed. The night.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Well…okay, then. I’ll tell Lucia.”
“Please do. She knows Lucia will worry about her.”
“Are…congratulations in order?” I asked, and Gabe roared with laughter.
“Want to come up and drink with me? Soon? I’ll fill you in, as much as I can.”
I laughed too, a sharp ache in my chest. You’ll miss this. Because as terrifying as a rockslide is, San Jose had none of this community, this sense of connection. Back home, I had friends I gamed with but not friends like Gabe. I had bars I went to Happy Hour with co-workers but not The Only Bar in Town. If a rockslide happened in San Jose I’d read about it on Facebook and that’d be it.
“I do,” I said. “Definitely soon.” I glanced back at Lucia. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
People were spilling into the Big Room and Lucia sidled over, grabbing my arm.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“Huge rockslide, on either side of Highway 1. I’m afraid you’re, um, well, you can’t leave. Not for a few days at least.” I couldn’t read the expression on her face. “Also, Josie’s not here. She’s with Gabe. In a…sexual way, I believe,” I stuttered.
Lucia did a tiny victory dance.
I laughed, despite the seriousness of the moment. And then Lucia high-fived me.
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