The Flood

           The Flood

Martha thought it was the wind but as it became more and more profound, she came down to check. Somebody was knocking on the window. Hope it’s Derek. Please Derek. She prayed as she got down from the stairs in a hurry. As soon as she opened the door her hopes were shattered. It was not her drunkard husband but Dr Phelps her neighbour.

Before she uttered a word, she looked up at the sky. Could it get greyer? She thought. A few outbursts of lightning in between the tightly packed clouds. A few drops of rain started falling.

“Quite a sky, eh?” Phelps said snipping her thread of thoughts.

“Oh, I am so sorry. Please do come in,” she said.

She piloted him in and motioned him to place to raincoat on the coat hanger Dr Phelps was about 5 years younger than her. His bright red T-shirt and long black jeans exactly showed his cheerful attitude. Exactly the opposite of Derek in every way. The playing children inside the bedroom were creating a lot of noise. Martha went and hushed them up. She came back into the dimly lit living room. Without the fire, the room would have been as cold as a dungeon.

She closed an open window and came back to talk when she spotted a doubtful expression on Dr Phelps’ face.

“Derek’s not here?” he questioned.

Martha hesitated for a moment but then broke into tears.

“That man. I don’t know where he went,” she wiped her tears. “He went out angrily. I don’t know where he has gone drinking.” She expected Phelps to console and assure her that he will come back but his jovial and lit-up face turned pale as if something was sucking the colour out of him.

“Oh No, No! Come now to the Chief’s house”, he ejaculated

She looked terrified. But the children. They’re alone,” she said pointing towards one of the bedrooms.

“Oh! Come on! We’ll come back quickly,” he said as he quickly put on his raincoat.

Martha put on a scarf and quickly went inside the bedroom.

“Sweeties! Mommy is going out. I’ll be back in 5 minutes. I’ll lock the door. Okay, 5 minutes,” she assured. With the children agreeing she rushed out. Locking the door and tucking the keys into her pocket. She ran through the mud seeing that Phelps had gone ahead of her and almost slipping in the process.

“Oh Lord. Please don’t be anything bad,” she cried.

Inside the chief’s house was almost the population of Robourgh, about 40 people, about 40 people. The atmosphere was brimming with excitement. She greeting some whilst pushing her way through. In the middle were the Chief, a man unlike anyone she had seen in this village, and of course Dr Phelps.

“Martha, where’s Derek,” the chief spoke. “There is going to be a flood. You saw the sky outside, right? Where did he go?”

Trickles of tears ran down Martha’s cheek. She quickly wiped them realizing that everyone were seeing her

“H-he went out somewhere an-angrily,” she whispered not being able to control the emotion.

“Oh Dear Lord!” the chief cried.

The man who was sitting silently now started to speak. “Madam, I am a Government official sent here to warn all of you. The flood will not hit here too much. Robourgh is a bit far away from the storm but I hope he hasn’t gone down south because. It will be quite harsh there.” He adjusted his spectacles and focused his piercing blue eyes on the Chief. “Well, I must go now.” He smiled at Martha and left.

The crowd dispersed almost immediately. The Chief got up.

“Wait Sir, Is Krotown s-south?” Martha said shivering from the cold.

The Chief eyed her and said and after a long pause, “Yes”.

She stood there like rock. Krotown was the only supplier of wine and beer in a 5 km radius. She almost knew that he went there. Where else would he go? Her almost paralysed body sprung into action and she sprinted to the house while noticing that the rain had increased substantially.

From occasional drops it had now gone to a loud pitter-patter. On the way, she met Ms. Graham, one of the village’s old and open minded dears.

“Dearie, I am feeling quite lonely. Can I stay with you? I really wish Patrick (her late husband) was here,” she said.

Martha spoke without any second thought,” Of course, of course.”

“Oh Martha! You’re most hospitable,” she beamed at Martha.

They both quickly went to the house.

“Where are the kids?” she said joyously. She liked kids very much. Martha pointed towards the bedroom.

Martha went to the other bedroom and started praying.

“Oh God! Please don’t hurt him. P-please. He may have hurt me but please forgive him. He’s still a nice ma-.”

“He has hurt you?!” a voice said from behind. It was Ms. Graham. Her frail face portrayed a mixed expression of anger and question.

“You were so emotional that you thought you were praying but actually you were shouting quite loudly. I could it here it from there,” she said. “Come on dearie, tell me what happened.”

Martha explained one by one, from the fight this morning, to the time he left slamming the door, the sound still ringing in her ears.

Ms. Graham uttered an occasional “Oh!” , “What!” or a “How dare he!”. “Ok. After all this you still care for him,” she said quite surprised. “If Patrick was like this, a divorce would be flying in quick. See dearie, we at least need some liberty. They take that away we shouldn’t be quiet or we should just leave them.”

“But-but he was no nice. Just when he started drinking,” Martha sighed.

Ms. Graham was exasperated from Martha’s silly devotion. “Martha, men are like this. I am telling. Don’t allow them to take your liberty. Understand,” she emphasised and quickly retreated back into the living room.

After a couple of hours, dinner had been prepared. Ms. Graham had to convince Martha to sit and just watch while she does the magic in the kitchen. Dinner was hot and heavy but Martha didn’t take a bite. She tucked the children into bed and came down to sit next to Ms. Graham who was examining a crack in the wooden floor.

“Didn’t eat a thing,” she complained. “Didn’t like it?” Martha gazed at the window sill where the pattered monotonously.

“I won’t eat until Derek comes”, she replied.

“You are the silliest creature I have ever seen. Go eat!”. After a few moments of forcing her, she sighed and went to eat. A pitiful smile materialised in Ms. Graham’s face. The food went in like sand and her stomach just felt filled, that’s it. Martha came back from the kitchen to see Ms Graham reading one of her books.

“You mustn’t be so devoted. Make him understand that you are important and need freedom”

After a few moments of silence she continued,” Patrick was addicted to beer or what do you call it, yeah. Rum. I screamed at him once. Just once. And I didn’t talk to him for a month. And voila! He promised that he would never touch that damned thing.”

Martha smiled hearing this and again her face went back to a melancholic expression. 3 days passed with no sign of Derek. The children noticed nothing and almost were quite glad that mommy and daddy weren’t fighting any more. Ms. Graham had fortunately brought some clothing and some other stuff (quite a fast knitter) before the flood worsened.

Martha, the whole set of 3 days, was sobbing, praying and sobbing again.

“Will he come? Please nothing happens to him,” Martha would say.

The flood gradually lessened but still no news of Derek.

The next day, Dr Phelps came and told that Derek was found quite dazed and some rich family had given him food.

“Thank God and bless that family,” Martha muttered.

“Dearie, you still have a long way to go. Save your ‘thank you’ s for the Lord hasn’t finished aiding you.”, she beamed at Martha.

                       THE END