Read Online Forecast by Janette Turner Hospital - Free Book Online

Slave Mart itself, washed clean. And the waters receded and the islands rose back out of the sea as it was in the beginning. Now and ever shall be. And we better get you back inside the house or your grandmama going to have a fit.’
    3. Point of No Return
    â€˜Marsyas, for God’s sake, get home while you can. Steven, your mother’s on the phone. She wants to talk to you.’
    â€˜And who is going to board up your windows, Miz Leah, if I don’t do it?’ Marsyas wants to know.
    â€˜It might have been more sensible,’ Leah points out, ‘to have spent less time on the damned crepe myrtles. And who’s going to board your own windows?’
    â€˜Grandsons, Miz Leah. Teenagers now. You are forgetting. Those boys already bought enough sheets of ply—’
    â€˜It’s getting too dark now anyway. If we don’t get evacuation orders by morning, you can do it then, but for heaven’s sake, go. Just help me get this door closed first. You push from outside.’
    She feels the heft of Marsyas against the wood. She slides the bolt home. Francesca hurls imprecations, flaunting herself on the screen porch. In the hush that follows the closing of the door, Leah hears Steven say: ‘But I don’t want to. I want to stay with Grandma.’
    Leah watches the way her grandson concentrates, frowning, his whole body engaged in the listening. She would like to bolt plywood sheets around the delicate outer edges of his days. She would like to wrap him in silk.
    â€˜But it won’t,’ he says. ‘Marsyas told me. And they’ll vacuate us if it gets … But Mommy …!’
    There is a longish silence. Steven is pouting, biting his lip.
    â€˜Hi, Daddy,’ he says, his voice flat. There is another silence. ‘Yes,’ Steven says, dully. ‘Yes, I am a little bit scared, but Daddy …’
    Leah watches him trying to explain. She can feel his thoughts on her nerve ends. I like it , he is thinking. When I’m with Grandma and Marsyas, I’m not frightened when I’m frightened. It’s something else and I like it.
    â€˜It’s like … it’s like …’ he says, groping for words that the wind keeps snatching, ‘it’s like going very high on the swing—
    â€˜Yes, but—
    â€˜Yes, Grandma’s here, but Daddy—
    â€˜Yes.
    â€˜Daddy wants to talk to you,’ he says, extending the receiver.
    Leah watches her grandson press his face against the windowpane. She watches the way his arms lift and sway. Sign language, she thinks. He believes he can talk to the trees.
    Steven shivers and hugs himself.
    â€˜I’m sorry, what …? Oh. Yes,’ Leah says, contrite. ‘Of course, if that’s what you think is best. It just didn’t occur to me you’d be so worried.
    â€˜Yes, but you see—
    â€˜So many of them miss us, you know,’ she explains. ‘They swing south at the eleventh hour, or they swing north-east and never make landfall at all.
    â€˜No, no, it’s just … there’s been no evacuation order yet, but of course I’ll … Oh, she’s already—? That settles it then. Steven, can you hand me a pen?’
    His grandmother copies down a number. ‘We can make it, I think,’ she says. ‘I’ll just grab an overnight bag for him and send the rest of his stuff up later.’
    She hangs up. She shows Steven the scrap of paper. ‘Your mother’s booked your flight home. This is the reservation number for your ticket,’ she tells him. ‘We’ve got to be at the airport in an hour.’
    â€˜But I don’t want to go,’ Steven says.
    â€˜Your parents are worried sick. They’ve been watching the weather reports. Run and get some clothes. I’ll call the airport to find out if your flight is on time.’
    Steven stops at the turning of the stair. Through the small casement window on the landing