Chapter 61
October, 2005
K plus one month

Louisiana and Texas were reeling from the effects of Rita, so it was understandable that their attention was not on their neighbors to the south. From October 1 to 5, Hurricane Stan, a minimal Cat 1 storm, sat off the coast of Central America, dumping tons of rain onto unstable hillsides. Fifteen hundred people were estimated to have died in the floods and mud slides, proving you don't need a monster storm for a storm to be monstrous.

~*~*~

There was no doubt about it. The Crescent City was broke. Cash reserves were gone. Without business and commerce and the sales tax they generated, there was no hope of quickly restoring the city to fiscal health. On October 5, Mayor Nagin announced that due to lack of funds, New Orleans would lay off 3,000 non-essential employees from the city's payroll, or about half of its workforce, over the next two weeks.

He also said that residents from all parts of the city, with the exception of the Lower Ninth Ward, would be allowed to return to their homes. He warned, however, that many houses were damaged to the point of being uninhabitable, that there was little chance of restoration of power soon, and that the "boil water" order remained in effect.

~*~*~

The line outside Pelican Park athletic center in Mandeville moved up a bit, and like the hundreds of others queued up, Chuck Bingley dutifully moved his folding chair.

It was a strange experience for the one-time high-level corporate lender. A little over a month ago, he would have been in an air-conditioned office in downtown New Orleans, working on deals worth millions of dollars. Today he had been in line for hours in the late morning sun, waiting for his turn to apply for $1,265 in Red Cross assistance, and he had hours yet to go.

Ever since the storm, the American Red Cross had been telling people that the charity was offering cash assistance. All people had to do was call a toll-free phone number, and the money would be transferred into their bank accounts or a debit card issued for those who did not use banks. For Chuck and his family, twelve hundred dollars wasn't the solution to all of their troubles, but it would help.

The problem was that the phone line was always busy, no matter what time you tried it. Chuck heard of horror stories of people who told of being fortunate enough to get into the phone queue, only to wait for hours and hours for an operator. Those with cell phones were cut off when the batteries died. One family talked of being on hold for thirteen hours before their call was handled by a human.

The Red Cross spokespeople interviewed regularly on the radio said they were aware of the problem, but that they had "hundreds of operators, working around the clock" to handle the thousands of calls. They promised to put more operators on the lines and urged people to be patient. The Red Cross would not allow people to apply via the Internet and denied time and again persistent rumors they were going to set up local Relief Centers. "Just be patient and call," was their mantra.

Though twelve hundred dollars would not solve all of the Bingleys' problems, hearing about it day after day wore on them. It was their money, they deserved it, and the Red Cross was being unreasonable and cruel to offer the money and make it impossible to collect.

Finally, in late September, the Red Cross breathlessly announced the establishment within forty-eight hours of a drive-up relief center in Slidell. They warned it would only be in operation for a few weeks, and they would only take about 700 applications per day at the facility. People were urged to arrive early, and police would turn cars away when they reached their daily quota.

Arriving before five in the morning and sitting in one's car for up to seven hours, as many people would experience at the Slidell center, was not Chuck's idea of a good time. He waited a week until the walk-up center at Pelican Park was established.

That's how he found himself in a lawn chair and ball cap, sitting in line with hundreds of others. He had been there since before five a.m. and had been in line for five hours. He figured he had at least two hours to go.

Everyone was good-natured about the whole thing. Red Cross volunteers handed out endless bottles of water, and those in line who brought food shared with those who didn't. There was a bank of portable toilets set up, and people were happy to hold places in line for those who had to use them. It was a very socially-mixed bag of mostly North Shore residents - workers, doctors, professionals, teachers, housewives, poor people, young people, and elderly. The majority was white and had never stood in line for anything, except the Department of Motor Vehicles for their driver's licenses. People joked around, shared their storm experiences, and asked for advice from those who had sought assistance in the past. It was fascinating watching a single mother on TANF(1) explain the expected procedures to an accountant.

While people were appreciative of the local Red Cross personnel, they weren't so kind to the national office. They, like Chuck, were not fools. They knew the Red Cross had planned for weeks to put in these relief centers. It took time to pull together the logistics of such an effort. Why then did the charity lie to the people for over a month? Their spokespeople said over and over that there were going to be no centers until the centers were going up; then they changed their stories. Why be so cruel?

Chuck sat contemplating cruelty. The American Red Cross weren't the only ones acting in a way that could only be described as wrong. The expected letter had arrived that week from Gallic National Bank. It was a politely phrased ultimatum. His boss, Manwarring, had decided to move Corporate Lending out of Louisiana to the Dallas regional office. All lenders were expected to transfer to Dallas, or they would be placed on unpaid leave until the Louisiana office reopened - if ever.

He and Jane had talked it over. Even with house prices jumping twenty-five percent after the hurricane, only undamaged homes were selling. Even if they wanted to, the Bingleys could not sell their house until it was repaired. And they did not want to sell.

So Charles Bingley was unemployed, sitting in a folding chair, waiting for his chance to apply for free money. He had signed up for unemployment - on the Internet, ironically - and a woman just told him of the emergency food stamp program available across town. Chuck had no false pride left, and if he finished with enough time, he would go and get in another line later.

At least Standard Insurance had come through. The same day the hated letter arrived from Gallic, their settlement check from their home insurance came in. The settlement was fair, but the check was made out to both the Bingleys and Acme National Mortgage Company. A young man named Karl assured him that the company would simply co-sign the check and the $25,000 would soon be in Chuck's bank account. In a week or so, Chuck could start looking for a contractor to fix Hailey's window.

What was weird was that the Prechters down the street from him were also Standard Insurance customers and had put in their claim, but they had seen neither hide nor hair of an adjustor. Chuck's adjustor had explained that no insurance company had enough people to work a major event like a hurricane and that most of the adjustors were contract employees. They worked a set area, a county or parish, but the insurance company wanted different adjustors in each neighborhood. That way the different adjustors' recommendations could be compared and keep the settlement fair. Assignments were generated randomly. It was only by luck that Chuck was on the beginning of the list, while the Precheters were apparently on the end.

FEMA, Red Cross, insurance, trees falling on your house - everything was a crap-shoot, Chuck thought as he moved his chair up again.

~*~*~

The Army Corps of Engineers, the levee boards, and their contactors worked like demons to repair the new breaches in New Orleans. Soon the pumps were operating again, and the waters receded. It would take two weeks, but by October 11, the Corps could declare New Orleans dry.

For some time, those National Guardsmen not involved in assisting the police were occupied in a grimmer and just as necessary task - recovery of the bodies. It was a time-consuming, dirty, hot, terrible job. Each and every structure in Orleans Parish and St. Bernard Parish in Louisiana, and Harrison County, Hancock County, and Jackson County in Mississippi would have to be painstakingly searched for human remains. Damaged areas in Slidell and Plaquemines Parish would undergo the same procedure.

Captain Buford sat in his Humvee watching a squad from New Mexico go through the process. A two- or three-man detail would go into a house, breaking in if necessary, and search each room. Knowing that strange things happen in a flood, they looked in closets and behind furniture. Most bodies were found in bedrooms or attics, so those areas got the most attention. As the smell was unmistakable, using one's nose was often the best method to accomplish this gruesome mission.

Once the inspection was done, a large X was spay-painted on or near the front door. This indicated that the house had been searched. In the top quadrant, they put the date, and in the left quadrant, they put some indication of who searched it - in this case "NMNG" and unit number. The right quadrant indicated any hazards that future teams should be aware of, such as unstable stairwells or missing floors. If any bodies were found, their number and location were put in the bottom quadrant. The teams did not remove the bodies; that was left to the DMART teams.

Some houses had lots of markings, since the animal rescue teams adopted the same system; one could see X's where the team was marked as "SPCA" and the bottom quadrant might say "1 dead dog" or "1 cat under house, left food 9/18". It could lead to confusion, if one didn't pay close attention.

A loud shout came from a house, followed by cursing. Buford got out of the Humvee, unfastening his service pistol, although he had a fair idea what had happened.

Sure enough, two Guardsmen rushed out the front door, one of them falling to his knees and vomiting in the grey-brown grass near the porch. Buford put on a surgical mask as the tell-tale god-awful stench followed the men outside.

"All right," cried the leader of the detail, "who opened the refrigerator?"

Buford listened as the men claimed that it was an accident. But under the glare of their commanding sergeant, they finally admitted that they had disregarded the warnings and opened the appliance on a beer bet of who could take the stink the longest. They had no idea what food locked in a sealed container in ninety-degree heat for two months would turn into, but they just found out.

The sergeant had no sympathy for the retching privates and ordered them back into the house to complete the inspection. The two sad sacks trudged back in, and Buford had to grin from behind his mask. At least it wasn't a body, he thought.

"Whoa!' cried Mack from behind him. "Are you through here, sir?"

"Yeah. Let's get back to the staging area." He climbed back in the Humvee.

"Two more days and we're outta here."

"Can't be too soon for me, Mack." Carrie, I'm coming home!

~*~*~

"New York."

"New York City? You must be crazy out your mind, woman. I'm not having any daughter-in-law of mine livin' in New York City."

"Watch your lip, old man."

"I'd rather watch yours. Heeheehee."

"Knock it off, Dad. Don't worry, we're not going to New York City or Los Angeles. Too big. Too much competition."

"Well, where then? Mari? What's on the list so far?"

Chris and Mari sat in the living room with Mr. and Mrs. Breaux, discussing the younger couple's future. "All right, we've got Atlanta, Chicago, Memphis, San Francisco, Miami, Dallas, and Denver."

"What about Branson?" Mr. Breaux asked.

"Dad," said Chris, "Mari is a little young for the Branson crowd. We want to build up her career, not bury her."

Mrs. Breaux put up a finger. "Well, in that case, there's Orlando. Lots of young people go to Orlando."

Mari shook her head. "People don't go to Disney World to hear a blues singer."

"Maybe you should change genres, cher," advised Mr. Breaux. "How about Nashville? Country music's hot nowadays."

"Yes, I know, and they're doing some great stuff, but it's not me."

Chris cleared his throat. "We also need to find a place were I can get a job. A university-run hospital or mental health facility would be ideal."

"Austin?"

Mari nodded. "Small, but…yeah."

Mr. Breaux glanced over. "I think we've got enough for now. Let's talk this over. Y'all need a place where Chris can work and grow in his profession, while Mari builds her singing career. Looks to me we've got us some good places. Anything stands out good or bad, Mari?"

Mari thought about it. "Memphis is known for the blues. Chicago, too."

"Both of them are airline hubs. We can get out of there for gigs easy," Chris noted.

"What about you, Chris?" asked his mother.

"Well…I'm not really into children's care, but St. Jude Children's Research Hospital is in Memphis. Really great behavioral medicine department. As for Chicago, there's the University of Chicago Medical Center and Northwestern Memorial. My friend, Dr. Mickey Segura, has some contacts in the field. He can see if there are any openings." He turned to Mari. "What about you, Mari? What's best for your career?"

She bit her lip as she took her husband's hand. "I can get restarted in either place. Which ever has an opening."

"Any preference?" She shook her head. "Okay, I'll call Mickey in the morning."

~*~*~

Saturday, October 15, 2005

The congregation was gathered this fine, dry October day in Our Lady of Prompt Succor Catholic Church in Chackbay. Adam Teresina, uncomfortable in his rented tuxedo, and Mary Boudreaux, properly resplendent in her white wedding gown, stood before the altar, their attendants on either side, the bridesmaids in silver and crimson, as the priest recited the Liturgy of the Sacrament of Marriage.

"My dear friends, you have come together in this church so that the Lord may seal and strengthen your love in the presence of the Church's minister and this community. Christ abundantly blesses this love. He has already consecrated you in baptism and now he enriches and strengthens you by a special sacrament so that you may assume the duties of marriage in mutual and lasting fidelity. And so, in the presence of the Church, I ask you to state your intentions."

He read the names written before him. "Adam and Mary, have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?"

Each, separately yet together, answered, "I have."

"Will you love and honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?"

Again, "I will."

"Will you accept children lovingly from God and bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church?"

One last time, "I will."

"Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church." Mary handed her flowers to Lizzy, as the priest turned to Bubba and had him repeat the words of the vows.

"I, Adam, take you, Mary, for my lawful wife..." Will smiled as Bubba shook from nervousness as he stumbled over the familiar phrases. It was then Mary's turn, and she recited her vows in a clear, strong voice. Never had Lizzy seen Mary glow so.

The priest raised his hands in benediction. "You have declared your consent before the Church. May the Lord in his goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with his blessings. What God has joined, no one must now divide." He accepted two rings from Bubba's brother, his Best Man. "Lord, bless and consecrate Adam and Mary in their love for each other. May these rings be a symbol of true faith in each other, and always remind them of their love. We ask this through Christ our Lord."

The congregation all responded with, "Amen" as the couple placed the rings upon each other's hand. Mary reclaimed her flowers from Lizzy.

He then moved to his right, to stand before the other couple before him. "William and Elizabeth, have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?"

"I have," they said together.

William and Elizabeth calmly recited the answers, both rather pleased and surprised to be there. When they mentioned their desire to have as short an engagement as possible in the wake of the storm, it was Mary who came up with the suggestion to share her wedding day. She and Bubba were able to convince a shocked and initially unwilling Lizzy and Will that they did not look upon the participation of another couple on their special day as anything other than an exercise in family affection and Christian love.

The next two weeks had been a firestorm of work. The cooperation from the local parish priest had been secured, after a special dispensation came down from the bishop in Houma. Family and friends were contacted. Gina was able to drive in, and Richard Fitzwilliam was in attendance with his parents, but the still grieving Katzes sent their regrets from Maryland.

To the two couples' relief, Lydia couldn't make it from Vegas. She promised, however, in a phone call to Lizzy and Will, that she and Annie would do a special dance in their honor. Lizzy was very thankful she would never see that performance.

Elizabeth's bone colored dress was pretty and flattering, even though it was off the rack from a Baton Rouge shop and not the hand-made extravaganza most people would expect the woman marrying William Darcy to wear. The florist was able, at the last minute, to make a second bouquet to match Mary's. Fortunately, Will owned a tuxedo.

The statement of intention completed, the priest said, "Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church." It was Mary's turn to hold Lizzy's flowers.

Will hardly needed the prompting, as his dark eyes were fixed upon Elizabeth. "I, William, take you, Elizabeth, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

Lizzy's smile could have lit up all of Chackbay. "I, Elizabeth, take you, William, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part." There was a slight pause as Mari cried out in joy, unable to resist celebrating this final stage of her dear friends' odyssey.

The priest continued, accepting rings from Chris, who was standing for Will. "Lord, bless and consecrate William and Elizabeth in their love for each other. May these rings be a symbol of true faith in each other, and always remind them of their love. We ask this through Christ our Lord."

If anything, "Amen" was louder than before.

~*~*~

The reception was held in the nearby fire station. Will found it amusing that the Fitzwilliam family was sitting on metal folding chairs, nibbling on finger sandwiches. Jane and Carrie, both too far along in their pregnancies to take part in the dancing, sat in a corner, keeping an eye on their children dashing about, and talking up a storm, thick as thieves. John Buford, back from New Orleans, was at the bar talking with Chuck and few of the locals. Mr. & Mrs. Boudreaux were with a group that included Chris and Marianne Breaux, and Chris' parents danced to an Elvis Presley song, while Kit was begging the DJ to play some Gwen Stefani. Bubba and Mary, hand in hand, were making the rounds, while Elizabeth introduced Gina to some of her old school friends.

For his part, Will had his back against the wall, a glass of champagne in his hand, talking to his Uncle Edward as he surreptitiously watched another relative.

"Richard looks bad, Ed."

Richard Fitzwilliam, sitting at a table with his parents, indeed looked like the world had punched him in the stomach.

Ed glanced at his other nephew. "Well, that's understandable. This thing with Olivia is tearing him up. But, what did he expect? Did he really think she was going to leave their daughter with her folks in Atlanta and come back to live on a boat with him in New Orleans? Her job is gone, the schools are closed, the city is just now crawling back onto its feet, and their house is trashed. Richard's being unrealistically stubborn."

"She still wants him to move to Atlanta?"

"She's suggested he do that and try to get a law-enforcement job there or take a position with DGS, outside of Louisiana. The bottom line is she wants him out of the NOPD."

"And he says no."

Ed raised his eyebrows. "He says he'll think about it, which is the same thing as no."

Will sighed. "Want me to talk to him again?"

Ed put a hand on his shoulder. "No, Will, this is your wedding day. This is Richard and Olivia's problem to solve. Your attention should be on more pleasant subjects." He took a sip of his scotch and soda. "You sure you don't want to use the jet for you and Elizabeth to go somewhere?"

He smiled. "We both have work on Monday. Don't worry. Lizzy and I have talked about it. We've got the rest of our lives to travel."

At that moment, the subject of their conversation approached. "Hey, handsome. Buy a girl a drink?" Lizzy asked as she slid an arm around her husband. Will handed his wife his glass as Gina hugged her uncle. They talked for a few minutes until the music changed to Roy Orbison's version of "Pretty Woman." That brought Kit over in a huff.

"Gina! Come on with me," she demanded as he took the coed's hand in hers. "We've got to talk this guy into some real music!" Will grinned as the two made their way through the dancers to berate the DJ.

"Care to dance, Mrs. Darcy?" he whispered.

Lizzy looked at him coquettishly. "Why, Mr. Darcy! How is it I always seem to be dancing with you?"

As he pulled her onto the dance floor, he answered, "If I have my way, you'll be dancing with me for the rest of your life."

She moved into his arms. "I'm counting on it."

~*~*~

The two couples adjourned to separate rooms in the back of the hall to change into their going-away clothes. Will and Lizzy were able to finish changing first and were successful in intercepting Bubba and Mary before they reentered the hall.

Will offered an envelope. "Here, Lizzy and I want you to have this. It's our wedding gift to you."

"What?" cried Mary. "You already gave us those lovely crystal candleholders."

Lizzy smiled. "This is a thank-you for today. Open it."

Bubba was confused as he handed the paper from the envelope to Mary. "What is this?"

Will and Lizzy grinned as Mary stared at the paper. A bit quicker on the uptake, she cried out, "This is a credit notice from the resort in Gatlinburg! They've refunded our deposit!"

"What?" Bubba took the paper back as Mary stared at the other couple. "'Paid in full?' What do they mean by 'paid in full?'"

Mary gasped. "You didn't!"

Lizzy laughed. "We did."

Will put an arm around Lizzy's shoulders. "Your honeymoon trip to Gatlinburg is all paid for - room, meals, everything. You just go and have a great time."

Bubba spurted, "This is too much! We can't accept this!"

Lizzy took Mary's hand in hers. "Please let us do this. We can never thank you enough for sharing today with us." She squeezed her sister's hand.

Will nodded. "Use your money towards the down-payment on your first house."

Realization stuck Mary and Bubba, as they had decided to put off starting a family until they could afford a house. This gift just moved that dream a lot closer.

"You make it impossible to say no," Mary breathed.

"Good, then you won't." Will's laughter turned into a grunt as Bubba pulled him into a bear hug. Mary and Lizzy were tearing up in each other's arms.

"Look what you two did to my make-up," Mary giggled as she wiped the tears from her face after she kissed Will. "Lizzy, help me repair this damage."

~*~*~

Back at Pemberley Plantation that evening, Elizabeth and William lay intertwined, their bedroom lit by a dozen candles, skin glistening from the delightful labor of the consummation of their vows.

"So long," Will murmured. "So long we've been on this journey. Seven years." He turned to her, propped on one arm. "Over seven years since I first saw you at that smoker at the Alpha Iota House. Seven years since I fell in love with you."

Lizzy's eyes were wide. "You fell in love with me at first sight?"

He gently pulled back the hair from her face. "I didn't know it at the time. Heck," he chuckled, "I fell in lust with you at Fat Harry's a few weeks before, watching you eat those cheese fries."

She gently slapped his chest, as she had heard this part before. "You and cheese fries. Besides, I thought it was my great rack."

He laughed. "I forgot about that remark! And, yes, you do have a magnificent rack." He then showed his appreciation by kissing each nipple.

Lizzy grew thoughtful, her eyes falling to the plain platinum band next to her engagement ring. "I had no idea, Will. I was so hateful to you at school."

"Shush. We've already gone over that. Besides, how were you to know? I fought my attraction to you all semester, thinking you were too young for me. I was a moron." He stroked her face. "You are everything I have ever wanted."

She took his hand and kissed the palm. "It's terrifying, in a way, isn't it, this needing? This requirement of another person's presence to assure your own happiness? William, never leave me. Never."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Darcy. Me and Riptide will always be watching out for you. You'll never get rid of us."

She followed his eyes to the beanie, still standing sentinel over her jewelry box. One eyebrow arched up provocatively. "Well, then, if Riptide's here, then I've got nothing to worry about!" She drew a single fingertip down his chest. "Though he does a lousy job of protecting me from being ravished by a certain insatiable beast."

"Any complaints?"

She gave him a slow, sexy smile. "Not if he does it right - and right now!"

Will's grin widened. "I think I can handle that." He took his beloved bride into his arms, and the two of them made love again. As they lost themselves in a tempest of feelings and desire, a completely different sort of tempest was brewing in the Caribbean Sea south of Cuba.

~*~*~

October 16, 2005

The Bingleys had a happy surprise awaiting their return from Chackbay. After almost two months, cable television service had been restored. While Hailey was overjoyed at the return of Nickelodeon, Cartoon Network, and Sesame Street, her parents were far less excited. During their forced withdrawal from the boob tube, they had grown used to the silence of reading a good book or a quiet conversation. The only times they used the TV after Chuck hooked up the rabbit ears antenna was to catch the local news and weather, not to watch the latest inanity out of Hollywood. The return of Internet was more profound. Chuck could again job search, and Jane could email without waiting in line to use a computer at the parish library. They didn't know how long this recovery from their TV addiction would last, but they had no intention of testing themselves.

It was during the news that they learned of Tropical Storm Wilma.

~*~*~

(1) - TANF - Temporary Assistance for Needy Families, which replaced what was commonly known as welfare: Aid to Families with Dependent Children (AFDC) and the Job Opportunities and Basic Skills Training (JOBS) programs.


© 2008 Jack Caldwell

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