The Last Day of School

*Barrring* The bell rang right as my last student walked in the door. “Yay!” I exclaimed. “Everyone’s here today!” A couple students were still unpacking while the majority of my 18 students were playing with their Slow Start toys. Janika was noticeably sad, which was unusual for her. “Janika, what’s wrong?” I asked. “My mom heard of a sudden hurricane heading our way on the news this morning,” Janika answered. “She said we might have to leave school early.” “That is sad, Janika. I always hate whenever any of my students leave early.” 

The day went on as planned until recess time. Looking outside the windows, I could see dark clouds billowing. The wind looked like it was picking up. Towards the north, a bright red glow lit the sky. Unsure of how close the storm was, I opened my laptop to check the weather. Several emails popped up on my screen. A few emails were from parents, a few from the principal, and one urgent notification from our superintendent. I told my students to bring a couple things for indoor recess; we were heading to Mrs. Bing’s classroom next door. Mrs. Bing’s students were seated in the front of the room watching a movie. I told my students to find a seat and enjoy this rare treat. 

“Monica, what’s going on?” I asked quietly. “I opened my laptop, and there were over 20 emails.” “Oregon has declared a state of emergency. We’ve been ordered to evacuate.” “Evacuate?” I inquired. “Evacuate to where? For what?” “Wow, you really don’t read your emails during school,” Monica said. “It’s been all over the news.” “What has??” I asked exasperatedly. Monica sighed. 

“We’re right in the path of a hurricane, a wildfire is heading towards us, and the USGS is predicting a volcanic eruption from Mt. Bachelor and South Sister.” “What?” I said, unbelieving. “Those mountains aren’t even 50 miles away!” “Yep,” Monica replied. “Bend is pretty screwed. At least Lava Ridge Elementary will live up to its name!” I was struggling with trying to wrap my mind around the news. “Okay, okay… What’s the plan?” “The superintendent called for schools to close at one. Parents have already started to pick up their kids. Buses are not coming. Teachers can leave right after the schools close. Some are already leaving.” “Leaving their students behind?” “Well, it’s a choice of survival.” 

I went back to my classroom in a haze, leaving my students to watch a movie in Mrs. Bing’s room. Mrs. Johnson, one of our secretaries, had called down to my room 5 times. I called her back, apologizing for the delay, saying we were spending recess in Mrs. Bing’s room. She cut me off. “I have about 20 parents waiting in the office and more waiting outside,” she started, sounding really stressed. I could barely hear her, even though she was talking loudly. Tiher was such a loud ruckus coming from the office line. “I need Janika, Michael C., Holly, and Eliza.” “Ok, they’ll be right down.” She hung up before I could ask any questions. I rung Monica. “Monica, could you send Janika, Michael C., Holly, and Eliza back to my room?” “Sure hon,” Monica answered. I had the four kids pack up and sent them to the office. 

I rang my husband, Alex, on his cell phone. He picked up quickly. “Maria, I’m on my way to pick up Elisa and Aiden. Then I’m heading back home to pack as much food as we can into the RV.” “Don’t forget the cats,” I added. “Sweetie, you know Elisa would never leave without them,” Alex answered. Gosh, that meant Aiden would probably want to bring his lizards, too. Could we support them? Alex went through several more necessities to pack up, things I didn’t even think of like toilet paper and bottles of water. “Alex,” I interrupted him. He paused in his long list of things to bring. “Yes, Maria?” “I want you to leave without me.” “Maria…” “No, I mean it.” I shot back. “The most important thing is to keep our kids safe.” Alex paused. “If things get bad, meet me in Boise.”

I gathered my things so I could leave at a moment’s notice if asked. A few more students were called down to the office. Michael J. couldn’t wait to go home. Bobby looked worried. Jorge looked confused. Elsa cried and gave me a giant hug before she left. The principal came on the loudspeakers. 

“Students and staff, a state of emergency has been declared for the state of Oregon. Students are asked to pack their belongings. Staff look at your emails for further instructions. Please do this orderly and quietly until we have further instructions.”

My email said for 1st grade to wait in the gym. Students were asked to pack up EVERYTHING of value, including their iPads which were never sent home. I brought my 10 students who were left back to the classroom to pack up their things. Two more students were called to the office. I brought the other 8 to the gym and told them not to worry; I left them to their fates.

Another email was waiting for me when I got back, asking for books and important papers to be placed in the fireproof closet in each wing. By the time I got there, it was almost stuffed full. I only managed to fit student records and extra iPads in. The lights flickered, and a few people screamed, as I made my way back to my classroom. It wasn’t yet one o’clock, but I decided to get my things and get out of there while I still could.

 Monica was still rushing around her classroom. “The poor fish!” She exclaimed. “I can’t take them with me!” She always had such exquisite, colorful fish as a part of her classroom. “Better your life than your fish,” I said sympathetically. “Right, right,” said Monica distractedly. She looked around her classroom. “Thirty years of teaching materials, of supplies, of books - it’s all about to disappear.” “Monica, you don’t know that for sure,” I said, trying to reassure her. She gave me a look. “Well, at least we’ll be safe.” We felt a rumble beneath our feet and instinctively grabbed at whatever solid looking object was nearby. I grabbed ahold of the door frame and was nearly knocked out as the doorstop came loose and the door swung towards me. I dived to the shaking ground. It stopped moving as suddenly as it had started. “Come on,” Monica said, helping me up off the ground. “You’re right - this stuff is not worth anyone’s life.”

The rooms we passed looked a mess with desks toppled and books and papers scattered over the floor. One of the ceiling tiles had cracked and was dripping water. A few light bulbs were flickering or not working at all. It looked like a post-apocalyptic horror film. Monica and I peeked into the gym quickly and were pleased to find no students left. The office was empty, too. But on the way out, we spotted our delightful and hard-working janitor Gary crushed under a heavy shelf that had held cleaning supplies. He was clearly dead. 

We rushed out the doors and into our separate vans. They were unusually empty of the bags of school materials we usually brought home with us to work on. Who knew when school would start up again. Another tremor quickened our goodbyes as we headed out into the unknown. I looked back at the playground as I exited the staff parking lot. The swing set had sunk into the ground so only the top was visible. The slide looked like a ramp into hell as it sat right on the edge of a large sink hole. 

Monica’s silver van was leaving, when she came to a sudden stop. I pulled up beside her and rolled down my window. She pointed towards the front entrance of the school. I was shocked to see about a dozen students sitting on the sidewalk outside the front doors without an adult in sight. Monica and I drove our vans over quickly. “What are you still doing here?” Monica asked. “Where is Principal Bumpkin?” I demanded. Two of the students burst into tears. A tough-looking fourth grader said, “He left about 15 minutes ago with the first tremor.” “He what???” Monica and I were both shocked. I spotted Jayden from my class and his little sister Tameesha. “Jayden, where’s your grandma?” “Grandma never manages to get off early.” A car pulled up. “McKenzie, dear!” someone called out of the window. A middle-aged black lady in scrubs got out of the car and ran to hug one of the older girls. “I couldn’t get off until, just now!” 

A loud explosion stopped any questions. The earth shook loudly. A cloud of ash and smoke erupted into the sky from the southwest. I shielded Jayden and his sister. Decisions needed to be made, and quickly. “Do any of you have cell phones?” I asked the students. About half raised their hands. “Ok. Mrs……?” “Melinda Harrison.” “Mrs. Harrison,” I started again. “Would you mind taking some of these students with you?” “I...I have nowhere to go,” Mrs. Harrison said. “My husband is meeting me in Boise. Is that an okay place to go?” I asked. Monica said, “Boise is as good a place as any.” “Let’s go,” Mrs. Harrison agreed. We separated the students with cell phones so a couple went in each car. Mrs. Harrison and her daughter quickly gathered everyone’s cell numbers and started a group text. We had just enough seats for all the kids between the three of us. 

I had driven on many field trips with Monica before. She was usually a very calm, subdued driver. But not today. She drove in and out of cars and around fallen traffic lights without even slowing down. We made our way to the highway quickly to drive east. Behind us, Mt. Bachelor blew its top, almost causing a boulder to fall onto the road in front of us. The dark, swirling clouds of the hurricane were growing steadily closer. How could a hurricane develop so quickly and so far north? How could it still be a hurricane this far inland? To the north, the redness of the wildfires were growing closer. At least the hurricane rains would hopefully quell the wildfires. 

The road ahead was blocked by a multi-car wreck. We got out of our cars to try to figure out a way around when a strong gust of wind blew in from the north. The northernmost car caught fire with the rest soon following. We ran back to the cars and backed up as fast as we could. We were slammed forwards by a swift, fiery explosion. Luckily, we found an exit back a mile and took that road around the burning wreckage. 

The road we took, however, took us to a different kind of burning wreckage. As we drove further on, the forest on our left began to burn more and more until it was like driving through a furnace. Monica had us turn onto another road, but that road turned back on itself to head straight north. The road became impassable. We turned around again and again. Eventually, we found a bridge leading over a river. The road had a boat ramp right next to it for small craft. I suggested driving the vehicles into the river and hiding under the bridge until the wildfires passed. Both our vans had 4-wheel drive and made it in very well, but the car Mrs. Harrison drove barely made it into the water. Monica tore up a blanket she had in her car, wet the pieces, and handed them out for the kids to wear over their mouths and noses. 

The raging wildfires soon came upon us. We helped the younger students kneel in the water so almost all of their bodies were covered to protect against the heat. The heat was incredibly intense and almost unbearable. Jayden’s little sister Tameesha and another Kindergartener burst into tears of fear. A few more students joined them when Mrs. Harrison’s car caught fire. McKenzie tried to go back to the burning car, but Mrs. Harrison held her close, refusing to let her go. A small explosion from the car caused one of my van’s doors to melt so it could no longer be opened. But we all endured. 

After an unbelievably long time, the fire died out. Breathing was no easier, though, because of the ash that clogged the air with increasing regularity. The earth was still trembling every now and then, but the aftershocks from the two eruptions seemed to be lessening. The winds were increasing, and the sky was darkening. The hurricane was upon us. We piled amongst the two vans equally, with the older kids sitting on the floor and in the trunk. The rain started quickly and grew to blinding soon after. We drove out of the river as quickly as we could manage. We drove as quickly as we could further to the east, but it was slow going amongst the high winds and hard rains. 

Eventually, we could go no more. We stopped at the top of a large hill. The bottom going forward was starting to flood, so we turned around, only to find that the other side had started to flood as well. At least the top was generally free of trees, so there was no chance of getting hit by falling trees. We parked right next to each other with two doors (ones that could still open) almost touching so it was like one big vehicle. Two kids had a little food left in their lunch boxes, and Mrs. Bing had brought all of her classroom snacks. Everyone had at least a little to eat, and we decided to leave the children’s water bottles (there was about 1 for every 2 children) in the small area between the two vans to get some fresh water. The children fell asleep one by one to the loud sound of the rain drumming against the car windows. 

The adults took the opportunity of no tiny listening ears to discuss options for the future. We decided to head to Boise to find my family and hope that cell towers would be working there. The hurricane winds and rain died down enough for us to see a farmhouse close to where we had parked. The roof had caved in a little, but Melinda - as she was insisting we call her - and Monica decided to risk it to see if there was any food for the children. 

We hit the motherload with that small farmhouse! They had a still-running freezer (due to a generator), a gas stove, and an undamaged kitchen to cook in! The kids were allowed to enjoy the rare treat of ice cream for breakfast as we cooked and smoked all the meat we could find. We also transferred what we could of the canned goods into the car. A large cooler was stuffed with perishables. We set out to cook all day, but we still wanted to move on. The sky was only growing darker due to the ash falling from the volcanic eruptions that had occurred. We decided to leave early.

We had just driven into Idaho - the welcome sign still existed! - when a large explosion started. It wasn’t one that only lasted a few seconds or even a minute; it lasted for over 30 minutes and caused the earth to tremble nonstop. The initial explosion and earthquake caused one of my back tires to blow. We came to a stop and waited outside the vans, trying to pinpoint the location. It was definitely coming from behind us, along the Cascade Range, but from all sides: northwest, west, southwest. We comforted the children as best we could, but we had no idea what was going on. The earthquakes stopped for long enough for us to put on the spare tire. We decided to drive on, in order to avoid as much ash as possible, though we knew more aftershocks were liable to occur. 

We drove as quickly as we could to Boise, breaking the speed limit by quite a bit. I found Alex, Elisa, and Aiden at the 2nd campground we drove through. The RV was crowded with things, including a generator, spare gas, and lots of food/necessities. Alex has thought of everything. Even Aiden’s lizards had been set up with a tiny, battery-run generator for their heat lamp. I wondered how long that could last. 

Alex was a little exasperated at all the children I had brought with me but agreed we had little choice but to take care of them until their families could be found. Together with Monica and Melinda, we counted our resources and determined what to do with the 13 children in our care. One student got her phone to work long enough to call home but only got a disconnected notice. Other students clamored to use the one working phone, but only two of them got through to relatives. One student had an aunt that lived near Boise and was able to be reunited. The other was a father working in the military overseas. He complained to his son about intense dust storms in...wherever he was stationed. He was glad to hear his son was okay. 

We decided to head East to get to the larger (still functioning). But our minds were changed for us. Ash was still coming in from the west. The wildfires had fizzled out thanks to the hurricane-rain. Then, a huge earthquake started. Several sinkholes popped up, swallowing a couple RVs whole. Then there was a fear-inspiring, gigantic explosion from the East. 

Yellowstone had exploded.