Joey and Paula had never seen any thing like this in their thirteen years of living. It was as though they had stepped into another world from a door in their neighborhood. In a few days the close cropped green fields had been transformed into a melee of pools interconnected by streams that formed an erratic pattern. The channels crisscrossed the hayfield following the lowest terrain and met at a ditch that bordered the main road.
Paula pointed at a small white ball that lay partially buried in the thick brown mud. Months before a strong northeast wind had hurled the child’s toy over ice laden snow before it had come to rest in this spot. The swirling waters were loosening the rich dark earth and after a while the ball rose from its grave as though alive again. It danced on whirlpools, bounced off sodden walls and began bobbing and weaving following the current.
Paula ran after the ball followed by Joey. “What are you doing?” He yelled into the wind and received no reply. The water carried it into a steep ravine where the white object disappeared under the torrent. Seconds later it reappeared and hurtled through a metal culvert bouncing off steel ribs and poured into a bubbling pool. The youths struggled down the hill fighting prickly bushes and rock mounds. All around the stream the air was filled with the sounds of ice falling from pine, aspen, maple and two apple trees. The hills that followed its course were white with patches of yellowish green and brown. The ball continued down the watery path through twists and turns and over two waterfalls before emptying into the brown churning river. The pair were slowed by the steep embankment and stopped catching sight of the bobbing toy riding the swirling muddy mass.
High upon the river bank a lone figure in a yellow poncho caught sight of the ball and frowned. Bob McCready had lived all forty seven years of his life in this little town of Sidney. For more than two decades he had worked in Augusta at the Maine Emergency Management Agency evaluating various potential disasters. He had never seen flooding conditions this severe in his hometown and he was worried. Gusts of wind repeatedly sprayed his face with sheets of rain water. He appeared to take no notice and studied the river with intensity. Hundreds of chunks of ice varying in size from a basketball to a pickup truck moved slowly down the river hesitating occasionally when they collided.
The man turned, walked back to a black SUV and opened the door. He slid on the seat and reached for a silver phone, dialing as he pulled it to him. He listened until a voice came on and fired a question at him. “Not good,”he sighed. “The water is rising rapidly and the ice is jamming. These are the worst conditions I’ve seen in my twenty-three years at this job. I hate to be a pessimist but I think this could rival the flood of thirty-six. I would recommend evacuation of homes and businesses, on the river, from Winslow through Gardiner.” He talked for a few more minutes and then he set the compact phone on a clip on his belt.
As he turned the key and glanced in his rear-view mirror, he caught sight of movement. A young couple trudged through puddles, decked in rain gear from head to toe. He smiled, remembering some distant memory and shifted the gear lever to go. Joey and Paula returned Bob's wave as he passed.
They climbed the knoll and stood on the same spot Mr. McCready had been on. They studied the river silently, each intent on their own thoughts. A large boulder that had once rested upon the riverbank was now covered with water except for its gray cap. They caught each others eye reflecting the deep concern they both were feeling about the pair that had been living under the monstrous stone. “I was just thinking about the first time you and Charlie met Faulkil and Snowlight.” Paula laughed as she mentioned Joey's best friend.
“Do you know it's been over a year since Charlie and I were attacked.” Joey shook his head in disbelief at how fast time had gone by.
“You know, I always wanted to ask you something about that day,” Paula hesitated. “Did you guys have any idea the rats would attack before it happened?”
“ That day as we climbed the stairway we heard the sounds of dozens of rats scurrying about. I felt nervous, but I never dreamed they would attack us”
“What amazes me is everything that happened this past year.” Paula frowned. “Two of the same rats that were part of the attack on you guys helped you stop Tom Shant from hurting his wife Maggie! Wild rats and humans as allies, I didn't think it was possible.” They both became quiet again taking in the sights and sounds of the storm that encircled them. Their little town was becoming transformed into a vast wetland where occasional dots of land mass with trees and buildings poked through.
Sidney was for the most part well protected from the rising waters by large sloping hills that bordered its banks. A couple miles from where they stood their was an opening in the hills bordering the Kennebec River. Over a century before a team of men, oxen, and horses had slowly carved a road through the steep river bank. On the opposite shore a train station had been built. Later the ferry carried such items as pressed hay, apples and firewood to the station. The train had journeyed south to cities such as Portland and Boston bringing the much needed goods.
Today the water was creeping up the Ferry Road threatening houses ahead. News was that the water would probably crest by early morning. Upriver in Winslow, businesses, homes and a small fort were within a stones throw of the rising flood water. Down river in Augusta and Hallowell the water was lapping against ancient brick buildings and covering shoreline parking lots.
“You ready?” Joey nodded away from the river.
“Doesn’t it seem like it’s alive?” Paula replied, not answering his question.
“What's alive?” He asked curiously.
“The river.” She wrinkled her forehead, thinking. “It’s like a woman. Quiet and calm one day, then unsettled and turbulent the next.”
“What exactly does turbulent mean?” Joey asked curiously.
“Restless and maybe sort of disturbed,” she replied with a smile. Do you remember what the Abenaki people called her before the Europeans arrived?”
“ Yeah it was called Aransoak.”
“A-ran-soak,” Paula said slowly and smiled. I like that name. It sounds strong and poetic. She turned and starting walking down the hill followed by Joey. For a while not a word was spoken as they walked. A strong gust shook them and Joey stumbled on a rock bumping into Paula. She started to fall and he reached for her grabbing her coat, but he was off balance. He jerked her up as he fell. His left foot caught her leg as he went down. Joey’s body thudded on the wet gravel and then something fell upon him driving his face in the mud. “Are you okay?” She cried as she rolled off him.
“Muesh paj,” Joey growled as brown water spewed from his mouth. He spit repeatedly, coughed and retched up part of his lunch. His head was spinning and he thought he heard somebody snickering. The haze was clearing and he could see her sitting in a puddle and laughing. “What is so funny?”He glared. She rocked with laughter now and seemed to be trying to speak.
“I’m sorry...” more laughter. “You look hideous.” She covered her mouth but continued to snort out her nose. “I’m trying to stop,” she apologized. Joey got up and walked to a clear puddle and bent down scooping the water into his cupped hands. He rinsed his face repeating the motion a few times. Paula still sat in the puddle snickering.
“Come on funny girl.” He reached a hand down and she clutched it and rose to her feet.
As they continued on their way Paula looked serious and asked, “How do you think Faulkil and Snowlight are doing?”
“I don’t know.” Joey hesitated sounding worried. “But I hope they got out in time.” He thought back to how much he had hated the rats a short time ago. Often after the attack, by the pack of rats, he and his friend Charlie had talked of the nightmares. Rats crawled on his head, face, back, and entire body, biting and scratching as they squirmed about. In some of the horrible dreams the rats would sometimes climb into his mouth and dig their way down his throat. He remembered being awoken in a cold sweat many times. His sheet and blankets were twisted on the floor. When the dreams got really bad for one of them, he would call the other. They knew that they were the only two that would understand, having lived through the hellish experience.
They had searched for the leader, Faulkil and his mate, Snowlight for months to destroy them. Joey still remembered how close his machete had missed killing the leader. He also recalled the pair of rats attacking Tom Shant when he was going to hurt or kill Maggie. It was that encounter that cemented his desire to protect the pair.
The rats had been living under the huge boulder near the river. A couple days ago the waters had entered their tunnel dwelling and they had been forced to move. Snowlight had been fatigued as she was soon to be a mother but Faulkil had watched over and guided her . They made their way to a shed that stood high upon a hill overlooking the river. It had housed tools and supplies for the crews that worked in a nearby gravel pit. It was now vacant other than a pile of scrap wood and rags that were scattered around.
Faulkil searched and found a spot under the junk wood that offered protection if someone should enter the shed. He gathered rags one by one and dragged six of them into the hiding place. He pulled them together creating a cushion and then called a sharp whistle. Snowlight approached and sniffed the rags. She let out a low pitched whine and then climbed upon the cloths continuing to sniff and circle the makeshift bed. After a bit her head drooped and she curled into the soft cloth. She soon was asleep.
Paula and Joey made their way down the old country road. The rain was heavier now creating a rapid tapping sound on their vinyl jackets. In one spot on the edge of the road a patch of new asphalt had fallen into a nasty looking crevice. A blue car passed sending arrows of liquid in every direction. In the distance a huge green beast appeared. The driver of the tractor could be seen atop the green metal monster enclosed in glass on four sides. He waved and laughed as he passed, evidently amused at their condition. Soon they approached a small blue ranch style home with a white pickup truck in the yard. The door swung open as they approached, as if by magic. “Get in here!” A woman’s voice beckoned. “Drop your gear by the door. I’ve got some dry clothes for both of you in the bathroom.”
Paula headed for the bathroom first, while Joey stood quietly by the door watching Mrs. Quinton scurry about. His clothing was drenched. 'So much for wearing rain gear,' he thought. Falling in the puddle with Paula on top of him had not helped much. After a few minutes Paula appeared in jeans and a pink top. “Cute shirt,” he whispered as he shuffled to the bathroom. He heard mother and daughter giggle while closing the door. When he appeared back wearing sweat clothes that were three sizes too big, Mom and daughter both laughed.
“Has your dad said much about the condition of the roads?” Mrs. Quinton asked Joey.
“Well he mentioned that there is a section on the River Road at Iron Creek that they are worried may wash away. They are also concerned at a bunch of low lying areas, that the water may flood the roads so cars can't pass.”
“What will Rob and Jean do if the baby comes?” Paula spoke of a young married couple that lived a mile away.
“Let’s just pray the baby waits until this is over.”Mrs. Quinton frowned.
“Have you guys heard how Sarah and Maggie Shant are doing on the Ferry Road?” Joey asked about the mother and daughter that lived together.
“I called Sarah this morning.” Paula replied. “They are headed to stay with some friends on the Middle Road. Sarah didn’t seem too concerned about their house. She seems more worried about her dad in prison. He’s still at the Kennebec County Jail waiting for his trial.” Paula hesitated noting Joey’s alert face. “He's getting harassed by three guys at the prison who seem to hate him.” She stopped for a minute appearing to wait for Joey to reply but he remained silent. “I told Mom about your dream Joey.”
Joey shrugged. “It was just a dream.” He replied stiffly.
“You could be right Joey. Mrs. Quinton replied. “Sometimes dreams just come from eating the wrong food before bedtime or something is bugging us. They are also sometimes messages that are being sent to guide us. Many men and women in the past have received dreams that gave them direction. I tend to think your dream was of that variety.”
“ How do I figure out what it means?” Joey replied with his hand on his chin.
“ Well I know you believe there are supernatural persons ruling the Universe. Good and evil forces arrayed against each other that we join with. From your decisions so far in your life, it appears you have chosen the good side or maybe the good side chose you, would be more correct. Simply ask for help then relax and wait. The answer will come.”
A door closed somewhere in the house and Mr. Quinton appeared. He stood in the archway filling the gap with his massive frame. “Nobody told me about this meeting.” He growled with a grin. He approached his wife and kissed her on the forehead. “Nice clothes Joey,” he chuckled. “ Need some suspenders?” Joey covered his face and groaned.
“We were just talking about the flood and Joey’s dream.” Paula walked to her dad placing her hand in his. “Joey had a dream about the prison and Tom Shant being in danger.”
“Tom’s paying the price for his stupidity.” Mr. Quinton added. “He needs to face the consequences for his bad decisions, even if he has really changed for the better. If someone's trying to hurt him, than I think we’ll have to pass that job on to a higher power.”
“And what if that higher power calls on us to help?” Paula had dropped her dad’s hand and was staring at him intensely.
“Then we help, but we make damn sure that we are meant to be part of the solution.” His scowl turned to a smile as his daughter squinted her hazel eyes at him.