Read Online Forecast by Janette Turner Hospital - Free Book Online Page A

– the sill is higher than the top of his head – he can see the furious sky and the tossing crowns of the pines. He wants to ride them. He can feel the rush of the branches lifting. He imagines riding the storm surge with dolphins. He imagines his thighs brushing the moon.
    He believes he could fly.
    â€˜Steven!’ his grandmother calls. ‘Listen to this! They’ve closed the airport. I’ll have to break the news to your parents.’
    Steven feels his heart shoot upwards the way the grain-sacking was lifted from Marsyas’s hands. Laughter inhabits him. He swings one leg over the banister and careens down, bumping over the corner-post moulding. He lands with a thump at his grandmother’s feet.
    â€˜I’m afraid the phone lines are down already,’ she sighs. ‘I can’t call them back. We’re cut off.’
    Steven’s eyes glitter. His grandmother smiles and puts a finger to her lips.
    4. Evacuation Advisory
    â€˜It now seems certain,’ the man on Storm Track says, ‘that Francesca will make landfall within twenty-four hours. Coastal airports have been closed and evacuation will become mandatory as of seven o’clock tomorrow morning. Evacuation routes and reverse-lane changes are being posted …’
    â€˜Will Marsyas drive us?’ Steven asks.
    â€˜No. I’ll drive. Marsyas never leaves. Even for Hugo, he wouldn’t leave. Your parents will be watching this on the Weather Channel though. They’ll be so relieved.’
    â€˜The man said we have to.’
    â€˜Yes, it’s the law. The National Guard will come knocking, door to door.’
    â€˜So how come Marsyas—?’
    â€˜Oh, he’ll hide somewhere. There are always people who won’t leave. They feel just as safe here. They feel safe wherever they are.’
    â€˜The Governor has announced that one eastbound lane will be kept open for emergency vehicles,’ the Storm Track man says. ‘All other lanes on the Interstate are for inland-bound traffic.’
    â€˜Marsyas thinks he’s got a special arrangement with hurricanes,’ Leah says. ‘He believes he can talk to them.’
    â€˜He can,’ Steven says. ‘Like his grandma.’
    â€˜According to Marsyas, hurricanes speak Gullah,’ Leah laughs. ‘Like the island people.’ She raises her eyebrows and cups a hand behind one ear, listening to the noisy patois of the wind.
    â€˜I can speak some Gullah. Marsyas taught me.’
    â€˜Did he indeed?’
    â€˜There has been much criticism of the Governor,’ the Storm Track man says. ‘Charges are flying … many claim that the order to evacuate has been left too late.’
    â€˜Grandma?’
    â€˜Hmm?’
    â€˜Couldn’t we stay here with Marsyas?’
    His grandmother folds him in her arms. She smiles and puts a finger on his lips. ‘And just what would your parents say to that?’
    â€˜How will they know?’ he whispers.
    â€˜We interrupt this announcement,’ the Storm Track man says, ‘to warn that the Carolinas have now been placed on Hurricane Watch, the highest state of alert. Many think this is far too late, given what happened with Dana last year. Impossible congestion on the Interstate, gridlock from Hilton Head to the Georgia border. A highway patrolman, on condition of anonymity, said angrily: “You can’t move several hundred thousand people at a moment’s—”’
    A soft popping sound floats from the mouthof the Storm Track man. For a moment, he glows like phosphorus and then the television screen goes dark. Every light in the house blinks off. The air-conditioner groans and shudders and dwindles into a trembling that Steven can feel in the floorboards before it goes silent and still.
    â€˜Well,’ Leah says, reaching for Steven’s hand. ‘I’ve got the candles in a drawer right here. Don’t be