Of Lili

I am as old and as alive as

oak tree limbs twisted

low reaching

beaten down

by the salt air.

I am old but I cannot die.

I cannot die because my purpose here is

unfinished.

I put the pieces together

To find you.

This is my story about a boy,

I might not tell everybody but I will tell you,

A boy I am meant to be with

someday.

New York City

Crouching in the wet darkness of cement and steel, the city holds its breath. Seventy mile per hour wind, rain… hurricanes? These extreme elements of weather are not familiar to us.

So we stay inside, huddled in fear.

The factory's warped glass windows—old glass, Papa said, 19th century glass with air bubbles and uneven curves that catch the light in a magical way—these glass windows shake as if to shatter. The wind and rain pounds against them. Papa says they have withstood storms for over two hundred years.

We will be okay, Papa says.

But, there is no relief.

And I fear the windows will break and the winds will pull the boy and his Papa out into the night, onto the mean streets where they will be left to fight off the creatures that hide in the alleys.

Papa is worried. He paces around his paintings; bumping into them and knocking them off easels, scattering paint brushes, dropping paint. He is worse then that damn Critter cat, who smartly hides under the work bench next to the boy, Ben, on the concrete floor.

Ben is pretty, fragile like a doll, with a mane of yellow hair and wise, blue eyes. He runs his black felt tip pen across this sketch book, drawing a darkening mass of tree roots, the pen scratching against paper, harder and faster. Together, Critter, Ben and Moritz— Moritz is Ben's toy goat— together, under the bench, they peek out from their safe place of blankets, futon, and pillows. They watch.

Papa clenches his cell phone. He curses at it and at one point it looks as if the phone will be hurled against the wall. Shattered and useless. Then finally, Papa makes a connection, and we hear Mama's murmurous voice.

It's okay. I'm already here. I'm getting on now. I love you!

Precious, please, it's not safe.

Just stay on the phone with me. Okay?

Mina? Hello? You're breaking…

Mina? Hello? You're breaking up. Mina? I love you too! … Mina?

I love you too! … Mina?

Despite the marvels of technology, a clear connection between Papa's phone to Mina's did not last. Ben feels Papa's soft gasp, so heavy in its fear when the connection drops.

Papa is mama ok? Is she coming home? Ben asks.

Now Claude, Ben's papa, is reluctant to scare his son with his worries and he, like most parents finds it easier to tell white lies, but Claude the artist who lives his life as a painting, where the colors and strokes confess his emotions, wonders how can he not be honest to his own child?

So Claude says nothing and stops his pacing and stoops to his knees next to Ben and hugs his boy with more force then Ben can take without squeaking.

The force of the hug says it all to Ben. Mina, his mama is in danger.

Mina's Danger

Pretty Mina, school teacher Mina stands like a boulder in a river, with the angry flow of people bumping and brushing past her to their destinations. To and fro from wherever they may be from, in a train station in the middle of New York City on the eve of a hurricane that threatens.

Threatens what? Mina wonders. Can she get home tonight or should she stay at the school or find a shelter.

No silly go home. Her boys need her, her husband and son. Her everythings need her.

Mina feels her phone vibrate in her winter wool pocket and she clutches and pulls it, frantically wiping her finger tips along the screen, trying to engage the green circle that links a reply to her dear husband Claude.

Curse these phones.

Mina still stands in the river of people.

Precious, what should I do?

Mina wants to ask but decides against giving Claude the opportunity to tell her to stay put-- that he will come get her, that he will leave Ben home alone and will come get her, Mina, the love of his life, and rescue her from the possibility of harm.

Nonsense, I am okay, and it will be okay.

She assures Claude to stay home with Ben, that she is about to board the subway train, and that she will be home within the hour. Mina musters her teacher resolve. It will be okay.

I love you. Precious? Can you hear me? I love you!

Disconnect.

Olga Alexandra Writes

The Hurricane