To get to safety

“I don’t understand how you can see through all of this ash?”

He didn’t answer or take his eyes off the road. Or at least what was left of the road. The falling ash has already covered up the lines, so it’s a guessing game. His only response was a grunt and his fingers readjusted onto the steering wheel.

That reaction just worried me even more, usually Dad is more confident we’ll be okay. Growing up he has always shown that there was nothing he couldn’t keep us safe from. So this silence is making me sick, I think even my little sister can sense how serious things are. Normally she’s always asking a million questions or showing off every feature of her toy. Instead she’s sitting in her booster seat hugging her teddy bear, just staring out the window. 

The only noise came from the car rumbling or the wipers. Dad has them going at their max speed, yet I can only see about five feet ahead. The ash even blocked the view of the cars that were ahead of us, making it feel like we were travelling alone away from an active volcano, away from our home.

I can’t help but pray we will get to come back and the town will still be there. Me and my sister were born and raised in the same town that’s been there for over two hundred years. The people who surveyed the land before and throughout the years have said that the volcano was safe and wouldn’t erupt. Yet here we are evacuating without any place to go besides away. It’s hard to believe it's only two o’clock in the afternoon. As hard as I looked for the sun, it wasn’t there. Is this how those people felt in Pompeii before burning up? It was just a couple hours ago that the eruption started, dark clouds escaped and filled the sky in a matter of minutes and the thick ash has been falling since then. 

Dad didn’t believe the warning yesterday, there wasn’t enough proof it’ll blow. I don't want to blame him, I can't see enough guilt eating him up, causing his worry lines to deepen. He’s probably going to hold himself responsible if the house gets covered in lava. We live on the outer edge of town so depending how lava would flow the entire home could disintegrate.

I need to think happy thoughts, I don't want to put anything out into the universe that’s bad. Although I couldn't hope for better road conditions. Sure I trust his driving skills, but the ash is quickly making the roads very slick. I could feel the car shift out of control every so often. But we have to go this way, the police blocked the roads going more north. So this is our only way out of the mountain range; with every curve and hill, I held my breath and every muscle in my body.

I wish I could distract myself or mentally check out. My shocked nerves wouldn’t allow a big enough distraction so I tortured myself. The only other distraction I get is thinking about our home, my school, and my friends… I really hope the volcano is just huffing and puffing and would burn the town down.

The  next second another earthquake started. “Is that…?”

“Yeah and I don't like that rumbling.”

“What is that?”

“Either the mountain is trying to shift or the volcano is getting more angry. I need to see better,” he pulled over. He didn’t turn the car off but did put on the emergency signals. I Hope this nightmare gets over sooner than later. I rolled my window down about an inch trying to listen for what dad was listening to. 

The shaking continued, I just watched helplessly as the car rattled; the smelly window thing was showing the true force. The crack was loud and started a series of banging and clashing.

“Shit!” Dad sped forward, leaning forward, his face a mere six inches from the windshield. I couldn’t tell what that sound was but by his reaction, i knew it wasn’t good. I just sat back and steadied myself in case of a crash. He has never gone this fast, all the curves are too dangerous and this area we had to go further into the mountain range so that fall would he hell. 

I heard crying from behind me, and stuck my arm back searching for her. As soon as I made contact with her knee, I felt her hand over top of mine. “It’s okay, everything is going to be just fine. Don’t worry…” Is all I got to say before a series of bangs, and crashes erupt behind us. I barely got a look before something hit the back corner of the truck, making us swerve. My breath caught in my throat, and I held on for dear life.

Thankfully the truck straightened out, and we kept driving along. “Was that an avalanche?”

“Yeah, from what I can tell it took out the road.”

“We were the last ones out?”

He didn’t speak for a bit, the silence scaring me even more. “I could only hope so, I know our neighbors had left yesterday and all shops closed down. I’m sorry I should have been better prepared. I should have listened, I failed you guys.”

I rubbed his shoulder, he looked like he might start crying. “No you didn’t, we’re alive and still getting to safety.”

My poor six year old sister started sobbing, listening to her wretch my heart. Her nose was stuffed up, eyes red and swollen. Her usual fair skin was flushed and tear stained. She must have been back there silently crying. 

“Oh sweetheart, it’s okay. We’re safe, see no more rocks crashing in our way.” He tried to console her by reaching for her also. She held onto both our hands as she caught her breath, becoming a booger bubble mess. I quickly grabbed a tissue from the glove box. I reached back and she automatically reached forward, nose meeting tissue.

Once she got it all out, I asked, “better?” Apparently that was a wrong question as she teared up again. “Think about it like we’re just going on a road trip, we’re safe.”

“I’m… I just…”

“It’s okay, take a deep breath with me,” I motioned an example and she followed. 

Seconds after releasing her breath, she let out, “Is home going to be okay? I’ve never seen this dark snow before, why did we have to wear masks outside?”

There goes the questions I'm used to, I said warmly, “I’m sure our home will be fine. The dark snow is ash, remember? It comes from the volcano and it has toxic gases so we need to be careful.”

“Like a volcano that has lava?”

“Yes but at least it's not that big of one.”

“Yeah, at least it’s not a big one.” She went back to looking out her window. A minute later, “I hope everyone is safe from the volcano.”

“Me too,” I said then looked back at the road.