November Sixth

November Sixth

Natalie Hannah

The screech of a car with an explosion caught my eye on the news; it was raining on November 6th. “People are looting all the stores downtown, Mom!”  I cried. “The reporter is trying her best to stay out of the way of all the chaos. It looks really scary, Mom.” Downtown is crazy. People are rushing through freezing rain, causing countless accidents on all the highways. It is out of control. Would you come to see this? 

Mom, The lady says it is like an exodus to the suburbs and surrounding outskirts. Do you think she is talking about the Bible? Is this the end of the world? Are we going to all die/ MOM? 

What are you so upset about? I told you people were going to riot? I told you it was going to get crazy. I have a plan. We will be fine. I got you, OK? We spoke last night about how people would be upset with the election's outcome no matter what the result. P upset people are about the passing of the torch from the former chief to the vice president so the new candidate would be successful. People from both sides were retaliating. The losers rioted because their candidate was not the victor. The winners retaliated to defend the current president-elect.  

I ran upstairs to see if Mom was still in the shower. She was packing. We were going by boat to the north. There was a lot less chaos there. My aunt, who had constantly struggled to make ends meet, offered her home as a refuge to share if we brought our food and water. Even in the Poconos, stores were overwhelmed with people anticipating a struggle for sustenance. Mom yelled,” Grab your sister so we can go! “

As I run past the kitchen, I hear a piercing alarm from the TV. There is an announcement of the emergency broadcast system; this time, I can tell it is not a test. I am reading it aloud to my mom:

In anticipation of continued civil unrest in response to the United States Presidential election 

 We are asking all citizens except essential workers to shelter in place until further notice.

Mom says, “Not in your wildest dreams!” I grab the dog and the extra bags of food and start putting them in the truck. She comes running out with my sister, and we go! We are on our way to the boat. Mom says if we are stopped, we are to say we are going to my sister’s because she is a disabled diabetic and needs support.  

My dad passed away last year from a heart attack, so my Uncle Jack always looks out for us. Jack is in the Coast Guard. He told Mom she had about 15 minutes to escape the Marina. Uncle Jack has a Coast Guard friend who retired to Florida in September. When he moved, he left Jack his boat. Jack says They are locking all the entrances to prevent an outpouring of people flooding the river with boats. 

Suddenly, we are flying up the curb; we seem to be driving to the dock! Mom made me panic. I grab my sister and whistle to the dog as we abruptly halt. Mom had the right idea; no one else was around. I put my sister in the seat. “The keys are under the seat she yells.” I tie the dog up inside the boat and return to get the food with my mom. 

She is running towards me, weighed down by the myriad of bags that are crazy heavy. She yells,” Turn around”. I scream, “What about the other food? The truck is running?” She says GO! The marina is closing in 5 minutes, and we won't be able to get out! 

I turn around and grab one bag from her hand and grab the other, and she looks at me with her intimidating face: GO! I turn and run. I am 13; she is 33, and we are almost the same height. My stride from the track is barely keeping up with hers. I know there is more to this than I know, so I do exactly as she says. 

We jump in the boat just as a park ranger pulls around the corner. He is driving toward the truck, and I can barely see him. Mom is struggling to turn over the engine to the boat. She looks at me and sees the ranger driving towards the truck. She tells me to keep everything quiet. I am trying to keep my dog quiet. It Blacky is a large Lab Pit mix and doesn't tolerate anyone approaching the family. Mom gets the boat going just as he arrives at the truck. I thought she would take off like a bat out of hell, but surprisingly, she motioned me to stay down. She drove the boat, crawling along the shore, desperately trying to go unnoticed.  They were exiting the truck just as we entered the mouth of the river.

Mom has a map. She had it in her purse since the end of August when the president fell after announcing he would not run for another term. Their party thought they had it in the bag, but that day in DC, Mom got a crazy feeling when the other party marched to the capital; things were not safe. It was violent. People on both sides fight violently and fire everywhere. They got it under control when they brought in the National Guard, but she said if they act that way now, imagine how crazy it will be when election day finally comes! She was right, as usual.

We see in the distance a boat smaller than ours approaching fast. One of the guys yells, a hell of a mess back there, am I right? Would you and your girls like some protection? We would hate to see you women out here alone unprotected. My mom yells back, we are fine; my brother is meeting me at the bridge. He is in the Coast Guard and knows we are on our way. 

They should have turned. My mom said in a tone that they should have turned, but they just kept coming—wrong choice. My mom always carries a cane with a sword in it. Two guys in a little boat don't stand a chance. As soon as they approach, she says, we are fine. Thank you, and please keep your distance. I am very familiar with this tone. It was misinterpreted as an invitation.  The tall man went to step onto the boat, and my mom said Blackie attack. Blackie jumps up towards him and snarls, and takes out her cane. He falls into the water, terrified, and Mom takes off. 

In July, there was an announcement that there were too many unaccounted-for guns after a massive school shooting. A teacher’s lover gunned down twenty-five children in third grade.  The police were coming from house to house to collect any guns that were not registered or used for hunting. That was when they took my dad's old rifle. Mom had it hidden in the cedar closet, but there was some kind of detector even old Jack didn't know about that scanned the house for metal and anything that remotely looked like a gun and was not declared confiscated. They got the gun but not the cane.

My mom’s phone rang. It was Uncle Jack. The Coast Guard was 

issued a charge to clear the waterways. He told Mom to go to Bird Island. Only locals knew about it, and they would never check. Once the coast was clear tonight, he would let her know. She would then have to ride up the Delaware River all night to get to my older sister’s house. It would be torture since we were up all night with the chaos of the election, but that is what they expected. 

The Coast Guard thought they would lock it down once they closed the marinas and cleared the waterways. We would only have to deal with the marinas at my sister's in the morning, but as my mom says, we will cross that bridge when we come to it. 

Morning has come too quickly, and we have not been there yet. Mom says we have five miles to go, but we must lay low. I tried calling my sister to tell her my phone was dead. I ask my mom for hers, and she gets a text from my Uncle, who tells her to look in the ice compartment. She tells me, and I find a solar phone charger. He thinks of everything.  I connect her phone, so at least we have one that works. I texted my sister, and I am still waiting for a response. Suspicious, my sister never is out of phone range. My mom texts my uncle, but I am still awaiting a response. Now, at the top of both phones, it says  No Service. 

It starts hailing out of nowhere. There is nowhere to hide, and my little sister finally wakes up. She and the dog fell asleep last night in the cabinet with the life vests and slept as quietly as a mouse. Not anymore. She was screaming, the dog was barking, and my solar blanket had just gone to her. I have my track sweatshirt, so it deters the hail. Blackie is all in a tivvy about the hail too. One thing after another, you think this woman could get a break, but she does not flinch. Get your sister and make sure she gets a pop tart and juice. You should eat something too, she says. I grab one for my sister, one for myself, and an oatmeal bar for her. We should all have our strength, right? You’re right she says, thanks for looking out for me. I always say this. To the moon and back, she says, that is our thing.  I say to the moon, and she says and back. That is how far our love can reach.

We finally approached the marina near my aunt’s house. We are about ½ mile away when Chelsea gets sick. She throws up her granola bar. I do not understand how she can fall apart so easily. She is crying and throwing up; what a mess. My mom has to drive the small watercraft on the shore. She drops us off and then circles back to speed up so we can get the other supplies later. There is no way we can carry it all now. Chelsea is complaining that Mom is leaving. I keep telling her she is coming right back. It is like she does not even trust her. After all she has done for us. So ungrateful. I guess Mom is more patient than me. 

We all get ourselves together, and Mom cleans Chelsea up sufficiently. I am glad she is awake so I do not have to carry her. We each have two big bags, and Chelsea is “holding” Blackie. Not that Blackie would ever take off he is the tamest dog. Oh my God, is that a deer? He is gone, and Chelsea is dragging behind him. I told her not to tie herself to him, but she did not listen. Finally, her leg gets caught in a tree, and she screams. Reality check for Blackie, and he freezes.  Mom finally catches up, but her grocery bags break and fall into the mud. We will have to fill up our pockets and hope for the best. We see the house in the distance, and we are finally safe.