6 • Continued from previous page those were our last moments in that room. The small rectangular glass strip across the top of the wooden living room entrance door allowed us to witness the first strike. It started when the big mango tree that towered over the outside deck gave way collapsing in front the entrance door. Shortly after this we heard a relentless banging coming from upstairs. Peeping out, Tishan realised that a hurricane shutter on one of the windows had come loose and decided that she could fix it. She braved the storm and went upstairs. Taking longer than expected Chelsea went to help. Thankfully they both made it back unscathed. With that fire under control it was only moments before another caught on and the fire intensified. It was now the hurricane shutter in my bedroom that came loose and started to slam against the closed glass window. We shut the bedroom door that led to the living room to isolate it. Behind the closed door we listened as the shutter beat the window without mercy, each blow sounding worse than the one before. Then there was quiet, the banging had suddenly stopped as the winds finally took the shutter away. In Chelsea’s words, “Outside was stark white. It was as if someone had hung a white sheet over the windows.” Relief and worry hit us at the same time. While safe from a shattering window for the moment, one by one our hurricane shutters seemed to be peeling off under the unnaturally intense force of Irma’s winds. It was then that we decided it was time to take Mother into the safe room that I had prepared. Strong at heart but her body now frail, walking about for her is slow. The room was at the very back of the house tucked into the hillside and was originally used by my older daughter. In preparation, I had cleared it of any unnecessary stuff and stocked it with our hurricane essentials. We made her comfortable on the bed and went back The disappeared north rooms that left the house an open sculpture. Credit: Story contributor, Diane Drayton September, 2017 (taken immediately after Irma) out between the kitchen and hallway to the safe room to keep tabs on things. Intense noises filled every space. We continued to pray. Water started pouring through under the kitchen door as if a firehose had been turned on outside. Instinctively, I attempted to keep pace mopping, but before long realised that was pointless. Pacing the hall Chelsea watched as the dark shadow beneath the closed door to the bedroom disappeared and was replaced by light. She instantly understood the meaning of this silent warning. “Oh my God!” Chelsea’s scream shattered the air above Irma’s roars. With an animal-like protective instinct Tishan yelled, “Put Micah in the room!” She immediately snatched him up and tossed him down the hall into the safe room. Thankfully, he landed on • Continues on next page
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