Peggy Update

I am afraid that I have not been very diligent about keeping up with Peggy postings. Ever since the hurricane I have had trouble focusing on the story. Next week I will be returning to New Orleans to help with the difficult task of removing salvageable, and unsalvageable, property from my mother's house. I will probably not have an Internet connection. This week, in anticipation of that trip, I am swamped with things to do. Also, I'm on a new commuting schedule: I'm now taking the 7:05 a.m. ferry instead of the 5:20. I have a feeling Peggy will be taking that ferry due to a change in her schedule at work.

I hope to return to the story in a few weeks. Many thanks to all of you for keeping up with it this far!

As usual, feel free to mention Peggy Finds A Friend to anyone you know who might be interested in the story. They can go to my web site and read the Complete Story.

Part Fifty-Nine

"I have pictures," said Peggy as she boarded the 5:20 a.m. ferry and joined her commuting comrades.

"I hope they're not too incriminating," said Luke, sitting between Florence and Paula.

"Are you kidding?" said Florence, nudging him. "Those are the best kind."

"Actually, they're from the little sailing trip that Raoul and I did on Sunday," said Peggy.

"Hmm, I'm picturing martinis and skimpy bathing suits in some little deserted cove; could be tabloid material," said Florence.

"Sorry to disappoint you. We went on a Salish Sea Expedition and collected scientific data."

"You know, I'm beginning to think you guys were made for each other," said Florence.

Peggy looked at her with surprise. She always says exactly what's on my mind, thought Peggy.

"I heard those Salish tours were very interesting," said Kelly. "They conduct science expeditions for lots of school groups."

"Exactly," said Peggy. "Here's some of the equipment we used. This is the dissolved oxygen tester."



"We took readings at several depths to measure dissolved oxygen in the water," said Peggy.



"Is it supposed to be high or low?" asked Paula.

"It can be harmful either way, but in most cases we worry about there being not enough oxygen to support marine life. On Sunday we measured just over 6 milligrams per liter. Below 5 is undesirable, and below 3 is essentially dead water." said Peggy.

"We also dragged nets for capturing plankton," said Peggy.



"I'm afraid to ask what you had for lunch," said Florence.

"Copepods and dynoflagellates," said Peggy with a laugh. "I was amazed at the diversity of sea life in the water. When you look at it under a microscope or in a jar you see that the water is teeming with activity."

"I get the picture, but did you do any actual sailing?" asked Florence.

"Yes. We had plenty of help from youngsters on board," said Peggy.



"They raised the sails and got us under wind power, at least for a while."



Peggy passed the pictures around and then poured herself some tea.

Florence looked closely at the pictures. "Peggy, you didn't tell me about the bearded, outdoor science guys with that stereotypical rugged handsome look. Where do I sign up?"

"Don't waste your time," said Peggy. "All they do is travel around and interview plankton."

Kelly said, "I was wondering, did your group measure water temperature?"

Peggy looked at him. "Yes, as well as salinity and clarity. As a matter of fact, water temperature was my main interest. You see, on my new project at work I'm going to be concerned with changes in the ocean water temperature. I need to learn more about how the data is collected."

Kelly snapped his fingers. "I was just reading about that. A lot of scientists believe that higher ocean temperatures are causing more intense hurricanes in the South Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico."

"Yes. And it's very timely that you should say that because Hurricane Rita has just been upgraded to a Category 4 storm, and this is only a few weeks after Katrina. In the opinion of many experts this is no accident of nature."

Kelly shook his head. "What is really sad is that, at the same time, the current administration routinely rejects scientific advice that it doesn't want to hear. I heard an interview with an author who just wrote a book on that very subject."

"It's scary," said Peggy. "But we're going to approach it by going public with good data that's hard to refute. If enough people make noise, things will happen."

"That's the spirit," said Paula.

But Florence looked at her with a shrewd expression. "Sounds to me like you ought to team with a good lawyer."

Peggy blushed. "It so happens that I know a good lawyer."

Part Fifty-Eight

"Shrimp stew. From the kitchen of Agnes Lambert." Florence said the words aloud as she wrote them in big letters at the top of a page in her notebook. She sat in the glare of an overhead light on the 5:20 a.m. ferry with the notebook on her knees.

"Why are you rewriting the recipe?" asked Luke.

"Because some genius spilled wine all over my original copy," said Florence with a glance toward the spot where Raoul would normally be sitting.

"I think Raoul was more heartbroken about wasting good wine," said Kelly.

"First you peel the shrimp," said Peggy.

  

"That's the part I can do without," said Florence.

"I read Agnes's notes on this, which were given to me by Fran," said Peggy. "Agnes swears by medium Gulf shrimp. On Bainbridge Island you can get them at Town and Country."

"Okay, let's assume I talk someone into peeling the shrimp for me. Then what?"

"Then you make a roux," said Peggy.

"Let's see that was 2 Tablespoons of flour and 2 Tablespoons of oil," said Florence.

"You want equal amounts of flour and oil. The actual amount you choose depends on how much you're making. I think we could have used more roux," said Peggy.

"It was delicious," said Kelly.

"Could you explain the roux part again?" asked Florence.

"You start with a heavy pot and get it warmed up on medium heat. Raoul had a nice cast iron Dutch oven that was perfect."



Florence scribbled rapidly on her pad. "In other words I should go spend the weekend at Raoul's house whenever I make this dish?"

"Uh, no. You can buy your own pot," said Peggy with a smile.

Then she continued, "When the pot is warmed up you add the oil and let it get hot. Then you add the flour slowly, stirring constantly with a big wooden spoon."



"The roux will be white at first, but as it cooks it will turn brown. You want it to be the color of cardboard. Those are her words."



"That's funny, it didn't taste like cardboard," said Luke.

"Didn't we already hear that joke?" said Florence.

"More than once, I'm afraid," said Kelly.

"When the roux is the right color you add the shrimp and toss them around until they are good and coated with the roux. Then you add a kettle of hot water."

"But didn't we have a discussion about that on Saturday?" asked Florence.

"I believe Raoul pointed out that we discussed it to death," said Kelly.

"The issue is that when Agnes wrote 'a kettle of water' in the recipe I think she was talking about a smaller kettle than we used. That's why, in my opinion, the stew was too thin."

"But the flavor was great," said Luke.

"I'm thinking the right amount of water is about four cups. If you use more than four cups you should make more roux," said Peggy.

"Okay so I add water and then what?" asked Florence.



"You add half of a bell pepper, a stalk of celery cut in half, and half of a small onion. All of these are placed in the pot whole. You don't chop them."



Peggy continued when Florence was ready. "Then you add, and I'm quoting, a dash of Lea & Perrins, some dried parsley, salt and pepper."

"Is that Worcestershire sauce?" asked Florence, pen hovering above the pad.

"Yes. I would go with a teaspoon of the Lea & Perrins and a tablespoon of the parsley. Go easy on the salt and pepper at first. Then you cook it for about an hour. When you're about half way through, go ahead and make some white rice. Fran told me that Agnes only used Uncle Ben's."

"She sure was particular about her ingredients," said Florence.

"I gathered as much from Fran. You serve the stew over the rice, and it's good with lima beans or green beans on the side," added Peggy.



"Mmm, I'm hungry all over again," said Kelly.

"Don't forget to cut up a nice fresh baguette to go with that," said Luke.

"Definitely," said Kelly. "I was munching on bread and broth all night long."

"We noticed," said Luke.

Peggy paused and sipped her tea. She looked out at the brightly light Seattle skyline across the water. She had told herself that it would feel good to walk to the ferry alone again, to be on her own. But for some reason it wasn't how she felt. She mostly noticed his absence. "I wish Raoul were here," she said out loud to no one in particular.

"Yeah, we need somebody to pick on," said Florence.

Florence and Peggy both looked at Kelly.

"Don't make me your next punching bag," he protested.

Part Fifty-Seven

"Shouldn't we be having a going away party?" said Luke.

"We are having a going away party," said Peggy. "I brought scones and tea for everyone."

There was a chorus of oohs as Peggy opened a bag and began to pass out currant scones. Then she passed around paper cups and poured tea from two large Thermos bottles.

"These are perfectly shaped," said Paula.

"Wow. They taste just like the ones you get at the bakery," said Florence.

"Mmm, excellent," said Raoul. "Now I know why you insisted on going home yesterday."

"What's the occasion?" asked Ferdinand, the jazz drummer, who had just returned after a week at a workshop in Los Angeles.

"This is Raoul's last day of regular commuting on the ferry," said Peggy.

"Last day?" said Ferdinand. "Things happen fast around here."

"Actually it's been in the works ever since our Washington, D.C., trip," said Raoul. "I decided then to leave my law firm and go into private practice. For the past month it's been a matter of formally giving notice and making plans for what to do next."

"I expected you to change your mind," said Florence while taking tiny bites of her scone.

"I came close a couple of times," said Raoul. "But after this latest trip to New Orleans with my sister, and reading about all the displacement and upheaval that has happened down there, I feel like I need to make the most of the time I have available. I know that sounds gloomy, but I really want to do something fun. I've always wanted to do work for arts-related nonprofits. Now I'm doing it."

"Congratulations," said Kelly.

"You have my vote," said Ferdinand.

"Are you going to work out of your house?" asked Luke.

"Yep. I'm going to 'hang out a shingle,' as they say in my profession."

"Hmm. I'll bet I know somebody who's not too far behind," said Florence looking at Peggy.

But Peggy was ready. "I like my job. In fact, I'm getting promoted, I just learned yesterday. We're suddenly alarmed about the environment ever since the Gulf Coast disaster. Have you read about the oil leaking from storage tanks in Louisiana? There's one neighborhood, near Chalmette, I think, that may be unlivable for decades because so much oil has oozed in among the houses."

Kelly shook his head. "What I can't help wondering is to what extent was it avoidable? Were those tanks storm-proof? Were they inspected? I would love to know that."

"That's exactly the kind of thing my organization is going to look at," said Peggy. "And we'll need good lawyers on our side," she added, looking at Raoul.

"Hey, somebody has to support the arts," said Raoul. "We can't spend all of our collective efforts worrying about disasters and terrorist attacks."

"Bravo," said Ferdinand. "Can I have another scone?"

"Of course," said Peggy.

The previous afternoon, Peggy had told Raoul that she needed to go back to her place to do some baking. He didn't ask questions when she took all of her things with her from his house, saying she needed to 'get organized and do some laundry.' But, in fact, she knew she wanted to regroup and collect her thoughts. There was something in her nature that said, 'Take a giant step back; go to higher ground, so to speak, so you can see where you are going.' It so happened that at work that same afternoon her boss had offered her a new position overseeing a large environmental research program. She realized, with a shock, that she felt excitement at the thought of it. 'I'm still into this,' she thought.

"Are we still having a party this weekend?" asked Florence.

"Yes," said Peggy. "And you are going to learn to make shrimp stew."

"You have your work cut out for you," said Florence with a wink.

How true, thought Peggy.

Part Fifty-Six

Peggy gazed up at a sky filled with stars when she stepped out of Raoul's house and waited in the driveway for him to back the car out of the garage.

It was a different routine for both of them. Before moving in with Raoul, Peggy had had a ten minute walk to the ferry, and Raoul had ridden his motorcycle. Now they both rode in his car from his house in the Rolling Bay area of Bainbridge Island. He didn't like driving the car: it was more expensive to take on the ferry, and you had to wait longer to get off the boat. Plus, Peggy knew, he preferred riding his bike whenever he could.

But Raoul didn't complain, and Peggy silently thanked him for that. She once offered to ride with him on the motorcycle; in fact she had tried to insist. But something in her voice must have betrayed her because he rejected the idea saying, 'I can't picture you on the back of a motorcycle at five o'clock in the morning.' He was right: it was not her.

As they rode past the silent, dark forest in the direction of the ferry terminal, Peggy reflected on how easily she had filled the vacant space left in Raoul's house by his late wife. It had been nearly eight years, yet her absence was still noticeable: it looked like the house had another occupant who was away on a trip and would be back soon. In the meantime, Peggy was using her sink, and hanging clothes in her closet, and sitting in her chair at the table, and sleeping on her side of the bed at night. True, Raoul had made a gallant effort to make way for Peggy: he cleared his late wife's bathroom things away from the sink; he moved most, but not all, of her clothes out of the closet. He had left two long dresses that, to Peggy, said volumes about Priscilla. They were fashionable, and sized for a tall, slender woman. Priscilla had been a dancer and actor, and was good at fundraising for charitable causes. Peggy could picture her working a room in these dresses, glamorous and confident. What man with a checkbook would be able to resist?

Peggy was different from Priscilla, and Raoul was different from Peggy's late husband, Taylor. So, they had that much in common: they were each spending serious time with someone completely new. They were each compromising a little bit.

Peggy was shocked to realize that she had been at Raoul's house for almost two weeks, ever since returning from the New Orleans trip on August 31st. She had gone back to her own place a few times to get mail and rotate her clothing so she wasn't wearing the same things all the time. She wondered how long she was going to do this. I haven't exactly moved, she thought. But, on the other hand, I'm in no hurry to go back.

She began to think through the options in her mind as they waited in line and then drove on to the ferry. Did she want to move in with him permanently? Did she want to marry him? Or did she want to go back to her place and just have an indefinite dating relationship? And what about him? What does he want? He may decide that he would rather be alone, she realized.

As so often happened, it was Florence who voiced Peggy's thoughts.

"I can't decide whether or not I prefer to live alone or with someone," said Florence, seemingly out of nowhere. Although, with Florence, every utterance had a purpose, and a target.

"You should live alone," said Paula confidently. Luke looked at her with surprise.

"And why is that?" said Florence.

"Because then you're in control, and you have time for your hobbies," said Paula.

"But I'm in control now and it doesn't make me happy. And besides I don't have any hobbies," said Florence.

"That's where women go wrong, in my opinion," said Paula, who wore a plaid skirt that Peggy had seen before, but this time it was matched with a different vest and dark hose. "They depend on some man to make them happy. Forget it. You have to make yourself happy."

Now Luke looked truly astonished. Peggy had to hide her grin. Maybe Paula was younger and more beautiful than Florence, but at least Florence was traditional and liked men who assumed traditional roles.

"Suppose two people each have their own hobbies and interests," said Peggy. "Then you can have a little bit of both: you do your own things, but at times you do things together."

Paula said, "I haven't met many men my age who want that. They want somebody to take care of the home front while they go off and become successful."

"It's true," said Peggy. "I suppose priorities change at different stages of life. When my children were young I certainly had different priorities than I do now."

"But it's not all as you say," said Florence. "Some of the younger girls in my office can't wait to find a husband and quit working. They would much rather be at home walking the dog and shopping."

"Unfortunately, there are those who give my group a bad name," said Paula.

Meanwhile, Raoul had shared his newspaper with Kelly Flinn and they sat silently absorbed in the pages. Luke, however, was stuck between Florence and Paula and looked like he wanted to disappear behind something, anything.

But then Raoul said, "Florence, you are going to have a hobby. Peggy's going to teach you to make shrimp stew."

"Yes, I meant to tell you that I got this great recipe from the family we visited in New Orleans," said Peggy. "Why don't we learn it together?"

"You don't know what you're getting into," said Florence.

"It'll be fun. You don't mind peeling shrimp, do you?" said Peggy.

"You mean they aren't frozen?"

"Nope. We're starting from scratch."

"Remind me to bring gloves," Florence said.

Raoul closed his paper with an air of things being settled. "In that case, dinner at my house. Everyone's invited."

"But wait," said Peggy. "Let's try not to gang up on the host this time."

Florence cleared her throat. "Peggy, you are the host."

Peggy turned red. It was as if her life had gone off in its own direction without her having willed it. Who's in charge here?

Part Fifty-Five

"Excuse me," said Florence in a sweet voice right after she bumped Kelly's arm.

It looked to Peggy like a deliberate bump.

"Did I interrupt you?" said Florence with a show of concern.

"I am preparing my potato farming shopping list," said Kelly with pen in hand. "Now, let's see, cottonseed meal, bone meal, greensand, kelp meal..."

"Sounds like a recipe for casting spells," said Florence. She sat between Kelly and Luke on the 5:20 a.m. ferry. On the other side of Luke sat Paula wrapped in a flowing brown skirt with a matching poncho. Peggy wondered if Paula made a new outfit every weekend or if she just had a closet full of them. Peggy also wondered whether or not Luke had officially ditched Florence.

"…that's the fertilizer mixture," Kelly was explaining patiently. "The cottonseed adds nitrogen, the bone meal adds phosphorous, and the greensand gives the soil potassium. I think my soil is low in nutrients."

"Heaven knows we can't have that," said Florence.

"When do you start planting?" asked Peggy.

"I won't actually plant the potatoes until next Spring. But this fall I'm going to get the beds ready and grow a cover crop," he said.

"What does the cover crop do?" asked Raoul.

"It enriches and aerates the soil. For example, there's something called vetch that fixes the nitrogen level to a good point for potatoes, then you just dig it in about a month before planting."

"It's not very appetizing to think of potatoes and kelp and vetch all in the same little garden plot," said Florence.

"Don't forget the aged poultry manure," said Kelly.

Florence's face turned pale.

"I read something interesting about potatoes just the other day," said Paula. "Potatoes are grown in 130 nations and are consumed more than fish and meat combined."

"And they grow from sea level up to thirteen thousand feet," said Kelly.

"And they are high in vitamin C, potassium, and even high in protein for a vegetable," said Raoul.

"And you can get potato salad already made at the grocery store," said Florence.

Kelly looked horrified.

"You haven't lived until you've had potatoes right from the ground," said Peggy.

"Not if they come with chicken doo-doo and kelp," said Florence.

"I visited a farmer once who didn't pull up potatoes until he was ready to prepare a meal with them," said Peggy. "They were so crisp and flavorful that I felt like I was eating a potato for the first time."

"I'll need some help harvesting these potatoes," said Kelly. "One person has to gently turn the ground up with a fork while the other pulls out the potatoes."

"Sounds like fun," said Raoul.

"I'll bring my coveralls," said Florence. "Maybe someone will mistake me for Paris Hilton."

"Who?" said Kelly.

"It's not important. I forget you're allergic to television," said Florence.

Peggy turned to Raoul. "Doesn't Kelly's project sound interesting? Maybe we should plant something."

Before Raoul could answer, Florence said, "Planning to put down roots over there, are you?"

Peggy turned pink. "It's just a garden."

Raoul came to her rescue. "What would you like to plant?"

"Why don't we plant something that goes with potatoes?" she suggested. "Then we can have a grand feast next Summer."

"Great idea," said Kelly. "I'm planting Ruby Crescents, which are very versatile, and, if it works, a potato called Rose Fir, a cream-colored fingerling with a nutty flavor."

"Maybe we should grow a variety of green vegetables," said Peggy.

"That's a lovely idea," said Florence. "I'll bring steak. Luke and Paula, are you two planning to grow anything?"

Paula looked at Luke. "I've always wanted to make wine," she said.

"Uh, okay. I love wine," said Luke, who appeared to be somewhat clueless and flustered at the moment.

"Are you sure you don't want to think it over?" said Florence. "It could be a long term effort, you know."

Luke thought about it and looked at Paula. "I think I'm up for it."

Florence sighed. "I guess I need a hobby. Everybody's got a long term, um, hobby these days."

"I could teach you to cook," said Peggy. "It's really a lot of fun."

"Do you know what my kitchen is? It's an unwrapping room."

"We'll start with something simple. Let's do it this weekend," said Peggy.

"What the heck. I'll give it a whirl," said Florence.

"That's the spirit," said Raoul.

Peggy looked out at the dark morning over Puget Sound and saw the reflection of the group in the ferry window. The faces were shadow, but smiling. She was suddenly reminded of a painting by Van Gogh she saw in a museum once.


The Potato Eaters, by Vincent Van Gogh. 1885

What had struck her about the painting at the time was how the family seemed to draw comfort from very small things: a meal of potatoes, a single light over the table, the company of others.

Yes, she had to agree with Florence. Everybody's finding a hobby these days.

Part Fifty-Four

(Continued from Part Fifty-Three. It is August 27th, two days before Katrina. Peggy and Raoul have just evacuated New Orleans with the Lambert family. )

They couldn't make it all the way to Georgia in one go: there were simply too many miles to cover. The evacuation route out of New Orleans took them west on I-10 and north on I-55 toward Jackson, Mississippi. There were state police on the roads, keeping the flow of traffic moving away from the city on all lanes.

Some time late in the evening Raoul guided the car into a rest stop. It looked like a gypsy camp. Pickup trucks, station wagons, vans and vehicles of all kinds lined the roadway and were piled high with belongings. Peggy saw Louisiana plates everywhere. Families were spread out on the grass, napping on blankets or sitting in folding chairs drinking beer. One couple had taken down their rocking chairs and were sitting contentedly as though they had not left their living room.

The Lambert convoy followed Raoul through the crowded parking lot to a bit of open space on the far side. Rita and Fran pried themselves from the cramped back seat and stretched and yawned. Children took the dogs for a walk while most of the adults limped to the bathrooms.

Jeanette pulled out a cooler and passed around fruit and water and cookies. Hulie made peanut butter sandwiches for the children.

"Do you think we should try to drive all the way?" asked Raoul.

"I'm getting tired," said Jeanette.

"Columbus, Georgia, is a long way from here," said Annie.

"We should at least make it to I-20 and then see how far east we can go. I don't think we'll find a hotel any closer," said Hulie.

After the break they piled back in their cars. Peggy offered to drive but Raoul said he was fine. Then Peggy insisted on switching places with Fran so that Fran could stretch her legs. Soon, when they were back on the road, Peggy fell asleep and had a dream. In the dream she was married to Raoul and living on Bainbridge Island. Their children had all moved to Seattle to be near them: Marjorie and her husband and new baby; Taylor, Jr.; and Deidre. The latter two were engaged to be married. Then a powerful earthquake hit the region and they all evacuated together to the coast. Peggy didn't mind because it felt so nice to have family around her. They rented a cabin until they could return to their homes, but then discovered they liked it so much they didn't want to return.

The convoy stopped in Meridian, Mississippi, and Peggy woke up. The group separated and went toward different hotels. There were few rooms available. Raoul visited two places and came back shaking his head. "They only have smoking rooms."

"Refugees can't be too choosy," said Fran with sleepy eyes.

Finally, though, he found a nonsmoking room and was very satisfied with himself. "Not only that, I paid less than what the other places were charging."

After a night's sleep that seemed to pass in a flash the convoy got on the road once more and continued east. When they passed through Oxford, Miss., Fran said, "Let's stop and see John Grisham; maybe I can get my book signed."

By afternoon they were in the military town of Columbus, Georgia, which is adjacent to Fort Benning. From the highway it appeared to be a collection of strip malls and chain restaurants. But as they turned and drove closer to the Chattahoochee River the landscape gave way to large old Victorian homes, some in disrepair, some carefully restored.

"This was once the grand part of town," said Rita. "Now it's making a come back after years of decline. Frank and I got a good deal on a really large place that needed a little work."

"Is your husband in the Army, too?" asked Peggy.

"Yes. We met at West Point," she said.

"How romantic," said Fran.

"Does he know that more than twenty people are about to descend on his house?" said Peggy.

"I sent him an email, but it doesn't matter because he's out of the country at the moment."

"No place dangerous I hope," said Peggy.

"Baghdad."

"Ugh. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Comes with the territory," she said.

The convoy came to a halt in front of a large blue Victorian with a tidy yard and tall trees. Inside, the ceilings were high and the walls had been painted bold colors. The hardwood floors were dark with age. It seemed that the first thing everyone wanted to do was turn on the television to get an update on the hurricane. What they saw were long lines, gas stations without gasoline, and a storm that looked as menacing as ever. The large, perfectly formed eye in the center of Katrina gave Peggy chills. It was a Category 5 hurricane and was predicted to be deadly.

Hulie said, "Well I think the best thing we can do is be glad we got out."

"Amen," said Rita.

"And the second best thing would be to take that crawfish meat from Mom's freezer and make a crawfish pie," he said.

"And I'll make red beans," said Jeanette. "I know a recipe that doesn't require soaking."

By Sunday evening they were eating crawfish pie and red-beans-and-rice from paper plates and watching the hurricane news. The city of New Orleans had declared mandatory evacuations but it appeared many residents couldn't, or wouldn't, leave. The mayor opened up the Superdome as a refuge of last resort.

"What I don't get," said Peggy, "is that if they are ordering evacuations, why don't they just get a bunch of buses and drive everybody out? I'll bet there are school buses that aren't being used."

"I'm sure many people think it will just blow over," said Jeanette.

The storm made landfall early Monday morning on the coast of Louisiana, submerging the fishing towns of Buras, Empire and Venice.

When the family woke up and saw the news Hulie shook his head sadly, "Dad took me fishing out of Empire when I was a kid. We went trawling for shrimp in the Gulf, and then we fished for flounder in the channels on the way back in. He was so proud of catching a flounder. I can picture the moment like it was yesterday."

The storm passed on the east side of New Orleans, straddling the Louisiana-Mississippi state line. It's enormous size covered a large stretch of Gulf shoreline all the way to Alabama.

By Monday afternoon it became apparent that the hurricane obliterated the towns of Bay St. Louis, Pass Christian and Waveland in Mississippi, and did serious damage to Gulfport and Biloxi. In Alabama it caused extensive damage to vacation spots like Dauphin Island and brought flooding as far as Mobile.

Jeanette's jaw dropped in disbelief as she watched the reports. "Mom and Dad spent their honeymoon in Gulfport."

"My favorite casino is gone," said Hulie.

"I know a lot of people who retired to Bay St. Louis," said Shirley with dismay, as they watched aerial footage of the Mississippi coast showing neighborhoods where nothing was left but concrete slabs on which houses had stood.

But, for the most part, the Lamberts breathed a sigh of relief: it seemed the worst of the storm had bypassed New Orleans. They saw videos of floodwaters, but there was not the widespread destruction that they had feared.

"I'd say we'll be out of power for a couple of weeks," said Hulie. "We can handle that."

"I just hope there's no water in my house," said Jeanette. "The last thing I want to do right now is go furniture shopping. I've got to get my kids ready for school."

But the real tragedy was only just beginning. The levees that surround the below-sea-level city broke in three places and New Orleans began to fill with water. The true horror of it unfolded gradually on Monday night and Tuesday. Entire neighborhoods were becoming submerged.

Hulie's face was a picture of disbelief. "It's just what they always said would happen."

The Ninth Ward, Lakeview, Mid-City, East New Orleans, parts of Uptown and many other areas were being reclaimed by the waters of Lake Ponchartrain and the Mississippi River. Under normal conditions, water flowed between the river and the lake in canals; it was these canal levees that broke.

At one point, Jeanette and her family sat numb and shocked at what they saw: a video of their neighborhood in Lakeview showing just the rooftops of houses peaking above the water. Peggy felt goose bumps at the sight of it. Rita rushed to Jeanette's side and sat with her.

Eventually, there were flights over many areas of the city plus satellite photographs posted on web sites. Agnes's house apparently took in water; Hulie and Annie were unsure about their neighborhoods, but in any case it was clear that they would not be returning home anytime soon. New Orleans had become a city unfit for human inhabitants. What's more, the horror and scope of the catastrophe increased by the hour as the thousands of people who stayed in the city were becoming desperate.

Meanwhile, Raoul changed the flight reservations for himself, Peggy and Fran. No one would be returning to New Orleans to have a funeral any time soon.

On Wednesday afternoon, August 31st, Peggy departed Atlanta with Raoul and Fran for the return trip to Seattle and Bainbridge Island. During the long flight she tried to piece together what she had witnessed in the week since they left. She couldn't think about it in any intellectual way. She could only feel a reaction. And her reaction was one of gratitude. She was suddenly grateful for the things she had: a home, a job, her children, Raoul. Yes, Raoul. She was grateful for Raoul. She had to dab at her eyes with a tissue. It all seemed so fragile and temporary. So fleeting.

They dropped Fran off, dazed and tired, and rode the ferry back to Bainbridge Island.

Peggy said, "I have a request."

Raoul looked at her. She could tell he was just as troubled and bewildered as she.

"Can I come stay at your house for a few days?" she asked him.

She was also thankful for the simple answer that he gave. He didn't analyze it, or try to read her mind, or figure anything out.

He said, "Yes. I would like that very much."

They paused at her house in the darkness only long enough for Peggy to grab a change of clothes while Raoul kept the motor running. Every minute was precious, she felt.


This concludes the Hurricane Katrina episode. Thank you for your patience while these postings have been irregular. Time has been kind of suspended lately, but we will be back in the present day on Tuesday when we rejoin Peggy and Raoul in their normal routine on the ferry.

Part Fifty-Three

(Continued from Part Fifty-Two. Peggy and Raoul are in New Orleans. It is Thursday evening, August 25, and they have just left the hospital where Fran's best friend, Agnes, has died.)

The tiny house that was the home of the late Agnes Lambert of Metairie, Louisiana, was chaotic. Children and adults were in constant motion, the phone rang repeatedly, the television was on but someone had muted the sound. Peggy poured juice into plastic cups for several children. The refrigerator door was plastered with photographs of family members at various stages of their lives: there were infants, toddlers, baseball players, high school prom goers, brides, grooms, First Communion receivers, new car owners, new house owners. She saw several pictures of Fran and Agnes.

Jeanette looked bewildered as she held up a scrap of paper. "I found a note Mom was writing. It has an address and a phone number."

"And she was drinking coffee out of this cup," said Shirley, holding up a delicate green and white coffee cup containing a brown, sticky residue. "It was probably her last cup of coffee."

Rita and Annie joined them and began rummaging around the kitchen, finding things that Agnes had been in the middle of doing before she went to the doctor's office.

"Do you think she knew she wasn't coming back?" asked Fran.

"We solved one mystery when we got here," said Jeanette. "Her car was parked right out front. She must have taken a cab. She never took cabs."

"And something else," said Shirley. "The cross she always wore around her neck was placed carefully on the side table next to the wedding picture of her and Dad."

Fran gasped and raised her hand to her mouth. "She knew. Oh my God."

Peggy felt a chill go through her.

Hulie came in with a large bag from which he handed out tube-shaped objects wrapped in white paper. The household revved up once again to its previous decibel level.

"Who had the large roast beef dressed? Medium oyster no tomatoes? Large shrimp dressed? Large shrimp pickles and lettuce? Medium oyster dressed?" He continued the litany until the food had been handed out. Then he passed around bottles of Abita beer to the adults and root beer for the children.

Peggy sat in a corner and unwrapped the paper on her knees. Inside was a small loaf of crusty bread stuffed with fried shrimp, lettuce, pickles and tomato. It smelled delicious.

"Do you know why they call it a po-boy?" asked Annie, sitting next to Peggy.

"No, not really."

Before Annie could continue, a child came up and said, "Can I have ice cream in my root beer?"

"Eat your dinner first," said Annie.

"It's short for poor boy," she explained. "It was originally a working man's lunch. The traditional size was half the length of a man's arm."

Peggy bit into hers and found it so tasty that she devoured it in a few bites.

"I must have been hungry," she said with a little embarrassment, but it appeared that no one even noticed because they were too busy eating and talking.

Hulie was trying to gain consensus on a time to meet at the funeral home the next day. A range of times were offered up for consideration and then rejected for one reason or another: a certain relative was coming over to pay respects, someone had to be picked up, someone had to be dropped off.

"I need to receive an overnight package," said Joe, the brother from Texas. "We were in the middle of refinancing our house when we postponed the settlement to come here."

"I gave them your Mom's address," said his wife, Vivian, who spoke with a distinct Texas twang.

"Couldn't you have put it off?" asked Shirley.

"Now can I have ice cream in my root beer?" said Annie's son, pulling on her leg.

"We lose our lock-in if we don't settle tomorrow," said Joe.

"We'll probably have to sign in front of a notary," said Vivian.

"There's one at Wal-Mart," said Annie.

"Isn't there a Wal-Mart right down West Esplanade?" asked Vivian.

"Can we please talk about the funeral planning?" said Hulie. "What time should I tell the lady we're coming."

"Are you going to call her now?" asked Fran. "Isn't it getting late?"

"It's an old family-run operation," said Hulie. "They handled my father's funeral, and my mother's parents, and all of my mother's aunts and uncles. I was supposed to call her at home an hour ago."

"I can meet at eleven," said one sibling.

"I can meet at twelve."

"Twelve-thirty works for me."

"How about two in the afternoon?"

Peggy cleared her throat. "Maybe you should see what time the funeral person is free," she offered.

They all stopped and looked at Peggy like she had made a profound observation.

"You got a point there," said Hulie. He then dialed a number and went into another room to talk.

The next day was Friday, August 26th. The group went in different directions. Hulie and his siblings went to the funeral home for an eleven o'clock meeting, some of the spouses took the grandchildren swimming, the remaining spouses stayed home to receive visitors and packages, and Peggy, Fran and Raoul went to uptown New Orleans, across from Tulane University, to walk beneath the oak trees in Audubon Park. Even though temperatures were in the nineties, it was tolerable in the shade, especially with a slight breeze coming off the Mississippi River. As they walked along a wide path and saw the huge curly strands of Spanish moss drape almost to the ground, Peggy began to feel like the trip was a welcome and unexpected treat. She looked forward to seeing other parts of the city.

By Friday evening the funeral plans were set: there would be an open-casket wake on Sunday evening followed by a funeral Mass and burial on Monday. Fran told Peggy and Raoul that they could go back to Seattle if they wanted to, that she would be okay.

"Are you sure?" said Peggy. It had seemed to her that Fran was having a hard time with the loss. "We can fly out Monday evening. It's only another day off work. Besides, I would like to see more of New Orleans."

Raoul agreed, and it was decided that they would stay through Monday.

The first hint of any obstacle to their plans came later on Friday evening, after everyone had returned to Agnes's house following dinner at a local restaurant.

Rita hung up the phone and said, "Guess what? "

They all looked at her. "I was talking to the Bienvenus, remember Trish and Betsy? Well they said, 'have you made your evacuation reservations?' and I said 'what are you talking about?' Turns out they already have reservations at a hotel in Tennessee."

"Why?" asked Fran.

"Apparently there's a chance that Hurricane Katrina will hit New Orleans," said Rita.

Jeanette scoffed. "Of course there's a chance. We're in hurricane season! What do people expect?"

But Rita wanted news. Suddenly the television, which had been more or less ignored, sprang to life after a frantic search for the remote control. They found the Weather Channel and everyone fell silent.

Katrina was in the Gulf of Mexico, still on a southwesterly course. The intensity of the storm was picking up. There was a chance it could be pushed toward Florida or Louisiana by a weather system that was moving north from Mexico.

"When you live on the Gulf Coast, it's like spinning one of those big wheels at a casino in Biloxi," said Hulie. "Those hurricanes could hit anywhere."

On Saturday morning, August 27th, things became more chaotic. The sisters went to a nearby mall to shop for a dress for Agnes to wear in her casket. Shirley's husband, George, went along to occupy the children by getting them beignets at the Café Du Monde stand in the mall. Joe and Vivian went to Wal-Mart to have their document notarized. Fran and Peggy monitored the hurricane while Raoul went out to get gas. He called on his cell phone to say that lines for gas were already very long and that anyone with a car should gas up.

At some point Hurricane Katrina made a turn from southwesterly to westerly, and maybe even a tad northwesterly. Peggy was startled from a cup of tea she was drinking when Joe and Vivian burst into the house with Vivian saying, "We're leaving on the next plane. We changed out reservations."

"What about the funeral?" asked Fran.

Joe shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes. "It's just a hurricane. It's not like it's the first one we've ever had."

"It's coming this way," said Vivian hotly. "I saw it on the television at Wal-Mart. Why do you think all those people were buying every bottle of water and every tank of propane in the store? Do you think they were going to have a barbeque?" She drew out the word barbeque so that it had at least five syllables.

Then Vivian said, "I'm going to get Jake. He went with Shirley and George to the mall and I can't reach them on their cell phone."

She left the house. Joe stood for a moment in front of the television listening to the forecast. Then he went into the other room.

Raoul came back from getting gas and slumped into a chair and fanned himself. "It's like an oven out there." He sat with them and had tea. It was relatively quiet for a few moments.

Since the mall was only a short distance away, Vivian returned quickly with their son, Jake. Joe came into the room. "I watched the news for a few minutes and it didn't look that bad to me."

"What do you mean?" asked Vivian.

"It looks like it might hit Florida," said Joe.

"Why are you telling me this? Have you packed?"

"I, uh, changed our reservations back to Tuesday."

"You what!?!"

"I think we can still have the funeral."

"There's a Category Five hurricane coming! It's going to be our funeral if we don't get out of here." Vivian was livid. "Give me that phone." She snatched it from his hand and stormed out of the room.

Joe scratched his head. "She's not used to hurricanes."

Then the entire mall contingent returned with a dress for Agnes. The house was crowded again.

"It's getting serious," said Annie. "A lot of people are evacuating."

"Better get gas now," said Raoul. "The lines are long."

"Should we make reservations at a hotel?" asked Shirley.

"Might be too late," said Jeanette.

"We can all stay at my place in Columbus, Georgia," said Rita.

Vivian returned with a look that caused Joe to wilt like an old azalea blossom. "Now everything's booked. We can't fly out of here."

"Uh, why don't we step outside and talk about it?" said Joe. They went out to the patio. Peggy could hear their voices through the walls.

"In the old days we would never evacuate," said Hulie. "We didn't evacuate for Hurricane Betsy in 1965. And that was a bad one."

"Oh no, look at the traffic," said Jeanette.

They all turned and saw video footage of bumper-to-bumper cars stopped on the interstate highway leading out of town.

"I think we'd better call the funeral home," said Hulie. "For one thing, nobody's going to fly in for a funeral with this going on."

Suddenly there was quiet in the room. "When are we going to have the funeral?" asked Annie.

No one had answer.

By late Saturday afternoon the Mayor of New Orleans was calling for voluntary evacuations, and was strongly encouraging people to leave. The storm was officially a Category 5 hurricane and the probability of a direct hit on New Orleans was extremely high. To facilitate the mass exodus, all lanes of the interstate highways were flowing outbound.

But still the siblings fretted about what to do. They worried about leaving Agnes's house. Those who lived in the area worried about their own houses and wanted to be around to recover from water damage and protect their property from looters.

"How long is the power likely to be out?" asked Peggy.

"Could be weeks if it's a real bad one," said Hulie.

Peggy began to feel worried. She and Raoul were glued to the television while the siblings debated. Suddenly Peggy saw new images of Interstate 10 heading west and what she saw made her sit forward excitedly.

"The traffic is moving," she pointed out. "Look. The evacuation plan is working."

They all paused and looked at live footage of cars speeding out of town. "Well I'll be," said Jeanette.

Peggy looked at Raoul and Fran. "I think it would be wise to leave while we can. We can always come back if things are okay after the storm."

Raoul looked at Fran. Fran looked at Hulie and Jeanette. "You won't have the funeral without us, will you?"

"Not a chance."

"Well heck if they're going then I'm going, too," said Shirley. "C'mon George."

Rita looked at Peggy. "You won't find a hotel for two hundred miles. Why don't you just come to Columbus, Georgia, with us? We have a big house."

Peggy shrugged. "Sure. If you have room."

"It'll be cozy, but fun."

The house turned chaotic once again as everyone began preparing to leave at the same time. Peggy helped bring in patio furniture. "Should we clean out the freezer and refrigerator?" she asked Fran. "I mean, if there's a long term power outage it will be a real mess."

"Good point."

Raoul found plastic garbage bags and held them open while Peggy started tossing out ice cream, popsicles, leftover fish and old lettuce. She held up a suspicious looking package from the freezer. "Anybody know what this is?"

"Crawfish meat," said Hulie. "Better bring it with us in the cooler."

Rita started going through her mother's cupboards. "Red beans. Definitely. Rice. Coffee-and-chicory. Cereal for the kids."

Within minutes they had two full coolers and several grocery bags filled with things they wanted to take with them. The rest Raoul carried out to the trash can and weighed the can down with bricks and pushed it against a wall at the back of the house.

By 8:30 p.m. they had formed a multi-car convoy heading west out of the New Orleans area. There were no traffic delays. When the last of the city lights were behind them Peggy looked out of the window at the miles of open water and swampland with tall ghostly trees draped with moss. It was eerie and primitive-looking. Fran and Rita were in the back seat talking. Peggy felt exhaustion creeping in even though she hadn't really done anything.

"I simply cannot believe a hurricane is coming on the day of my mother's funeral," said Rita sadly. "You can't imagine how perfect that is. She's been in this town all her life, and so were her parents, and their parents, and so on, and they all hated hurricanes but they wouldn't dream of living anywhere else but here. And now at last she gets to miss a hurricane. Because if Mom were still alive she wouldn't be evacuating, and neither
would we. And to tell you the truth, it will probably turn out to be no big deal."

TO BE CONTINUED

Part Fifty-Two

Continued from Part Fifty-One. Peggy and Raoul are in New Orleans with Raoul's sister, Fran. Fran's best friend is in the hospital after a stroke. Hurricane Katrina is coming, but no one is paying any attention to it yet.

The intensive care waiting area was designed for lots of grieving families. As Peggy entered behind Raoul and Fran, she saw that the room was subdivided into separate small waiting areas, each of these occupied by visitors huddled in tight groups, some holding hands, many with red, puffy eyes. Each group was strikingly similar: young, old and middle-aged people looking as though they were suddenly sucked together in come-as-you-are fashion, uprooted from jobs and distant homes. She saw luggage, toys, styrofoam coffee cups, pillows, blankets, granola bars, raisins and shoes. Cell phones were plugged into the walls, and on a few television sets Peggy saw news reports of a hurricane called Katrina that had just passed through Florida.

Fran led them into an area where the bright overhead lights had been dimmed. It looked like a refugee camp. About a dozen people were sprawled on chairs and on the floor. A man groggy from lack of sleep came forward. "Hello Fran."

"Hello, Hulie. Any change?" said Fran with a worried expression.

The man shook his head. "She's on the breathing machine." He extended his hand to Raoul and Peggy. "I'm Hulie Lambert."

"This is my brother, Raoul," said Fran. "And this is Peggy. I needed to have someone with me. I hope that's okay. This is just so shocking. I just spoke to her on Saturday and told her happy birthday and she sounded fine."

A young boy came up with a worried expression and said, "Granny's brain stopped."

Hulie looked at him sadly. "The kids are really confused over this." After a pause he said, "You folks tired from your trip? We got coffee in the little kitchen over there, but it's not very good by New Orleans standards. Whenever you're ready I'll take you to see Mom."

Peggy started to retreat to the kitchen. She didn't want to intrude.

"I'd like to go right away," Fran said. "Can we all go?"

"I think it'd be all right. Jeanette's back there now."

Peggy changed directions and followed them. Raoul gave her a sympathetic look. She squeezed his hand. Peggy felt her heartbeat increase as she drew near the room. She imagined seeing her husband, Taylor, lying in one of the beds as they passed the other glass-enclosed intensive care rooms. It was irrational, of course, she told herself: he had been dead for more than a year. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she was living through the ordeal once again.

Agnes lay quietly on a bed, stuck with numerous needles and tubes. Her chest rose and fell along with the clicking sound of the ventilator. Each click was accompanied by a swish of air. Surrounding her was enough electronic hardware to fill a hobby shop. On the pillow near her head were several holy cards and rose petals and an old black-and-white photograph of Agnes as a young, vibrant woman sitting at a table and smiling at the camera with her mouth slightly open as though someone called out her name in mid-sentence.

A woman who looked exactly like Hulie backed away from the bed as they entered and then hugged Fran. "I'm so glad you could come," she said. Fran's entire body shook as she sobbed onto the woman's shoulders.

"I didn't get to say goodbye," said Fran.

"Nobody did," said the woman. Then she looked at Raoul and Peggy, who stood quietly at the rear of the room. "I'm Jeanette, Agnes's daughter."

Fran introduced them.

"I hope we're not intruding," said Peggy.

"Not at all. Fran is like family. We're very glad you got her here."

Fran spent some time next to Agnes, holding her hand, while Peggy and Raoul stood back and watched a procession of people come and go. The family members would come and stand by Agnes and cry for several minutes and then go away. Young children were brought in and they stood staring, trying to make sense of it. One little girl ran from the room in tears.

There was considerable discussion of whether or not Agnes was aware of anyone's presence. A priest from Agnes's church parish joined the group and told a story about visiting a comatose woman every day for several days and after she regained consciousness she identified him as the priest who had visited her, even though they had never met previously.

Nurses came in and out checking the equipment and the tubes and the breathing machine. Jeanette led the group in a prayer, while one of Agnes's sisters, Grace, sang a song in a soft voice.

Peggy found herself wishing that more people had been with Taylor at his deathbed, been with her to share in the grief. Taylor was an only child; Peggy, Marjorie and Taylor, Jr., were his only family. They held their vigil alone. What Peggy was witnessing here was far different.

"Agnes had six brothers and sisters," explained Fran. "And each of them had five or more children apiece. You're only seeing the tip of the ice berg."

"It gets pretty hectic when there's a critical mass of us," said Hulie. "Dang near everybody's got to talk at the same time."

Fran returned to the waiting room. Peggy and Raoul followed and got coffee from a little dispenser.

The doctor came in and assembled the group. Peggy heard much whispering, and anxiety.

"As you know I've been seeing Agnes for a long time," said the doctor in a warm, calm voice. He spoke slowly so that everyone understood his words. "Although I'm just as shocked and saddened as you are by this turn of events, I can't say it's entirely unexpected. You see, she had a large cluster of blood vessels right at the back of her head." He pointed to the back of his own head with his hand. "One or more of them burst just as she was coming in for an appointment. Her blood pressure has been very high, and she's been complaining of a headache the last couple of days. She lost consciousness very quickly and is not feeling any pain. Her heart is beating, but she's not breathing on her own. We're doing her breathing for her with the ventilator. There is no brain activity after two separate C.T. scans. In my opinion her condition is not operable."

There was silence among the group. Peggy heard the sound of the television set in another corner of the waiting area. The announcer was talking about Hurricane Katrina.

"How long should we keep her on the machine?" asked Jeanette.

"I think we should wait until everybody's had their time with her," said another woman who looked exactly like Jeanette and Hulie.

"Annie is right," said Jeanette. Then, to the doctor, she said, "If we kept her on the machine, how long would she stay like that?"

"Days, maybe weeks," said the doctor.

The siblings looked searchingly at each other. "What happens after we turn off the ventilator?"

"She won't breathe on her own for very long. Eventually her heart will stop beating."

"Will it be disturbing to watch?" said Annie.

The doctor hesitated. "I predict not. But I can't say for sure. You will have to decide for yourselves whether or not you want to be with her at the end."

The doctor went away while the family members debated what to do. There seemed to be consensus on the key issue: that the breathing machine should be removed and Agnes should be allowed to die. Whatever debate lingered was about how long to wait.

"I want to make sure everyone is satisfied," said Shirley, another of Agnes's daughters.

"Joe's only been here for a little while. He maybe hadn't been with her enough," said Hulie, turning to look at a young man reading a book to a child.

Peggy had reached the point where she could identify the siblings because they all looked alike.

"I'm okay, but Rita's in there reading the Bible to Mom and it didn't look like she was anywhere near done," said Joe.

"Well then let her read it," said Jeanette.

"How long should we wait?" said Annie.

"I gotta get some food soon," said Hulie.

"How can you talk about food?" said Shirley. "If Rita wants to read the whole darn Bible then go ahead and let her."

Peggy walked with Fran back to the kitchen and poured her some water from the tap. Fran gave her some background on Agnes's family: Hulie, Jeanette and Annie lived in the New Orleans area, while Shirley lived in Minnesota, Joe lived in Texas and Rita lived in Columbus, Georgia. She was an Army officer stationed at Fort Benning. Rita was the only one of the siblings that Peggy had not seen.

"What did you do in your late husband's case?" asked Raoul.

"He died without us having to make any decisions," said Peggy. "In a way it's a relief."

"This family is really shook up," said Fran. "Agnes was the center of things, especially in the years since her husband's death. She held them together. They argue about everything, but she was the common ground."

Rita came back from the intensive care room, led by Annie. Rita had the same face as the rest but looked different in other respects: her dark hair was cut very short and she was thin and athletic looking, like a military person.

After some whispered conversation, Jeanette went and told the doctor that he could disconnect Agnes. Twenty minutes later the head nurse invited the group to Agnes's bedside, at least those who wished to be there. Annie stayed behind with her young children. Peggy followed Fran back to the intensive care room.

Agnes was now free of tubes and needles except for a single device attached to her finger that measured her heartbeat. It was silent. She was very still. There was no more clicking sound from the ventilator. All of the computer screens were dark and pushed to the side. A nurse monitored Agnes from her station outside the room.

The family members and Fran stood in a semicircle around the bed. Peggy and Raoul stood behind Fran. Peggy could not get the image of Taylor out of her mind. Yet her initial feeling of sadness was disappearing. Watching Agnes die was a reminder that Taylor was really gone. It was so final. The body was a finite thing, and when it was used up the soul went somewhere else. Peggy had a memory of Taylor, but it was just a memory. Her own body hadn't been used up yet, she was walking, talking, breathing, laughing. There was no point in ceasing to live because your loved one ceased to live. She breathed a silent word of thanks to Agnes. There was value in this, Peggy told herself. She held Raoul's hand.

Peggy started paying more attention to other members of the family while they talked in soft tones. She realized that some of the other adults were actually the grown- up grandchildren. One of them, she learned, was Eric, a young man close to graduating from medical school.

Eric was going back and forth between the nurse's station and the room while everyone stood around Agnes. Finally, Eric came in and announced softly that she was gone. Her heart had stopped. The change in Agnes was not noticeable. She had simply left her body.

The family members touched her arms and hair and said their final words. Rita picked up her mother's Bible and the cards and rose petals and photos that had been laid out on the bed. The nurse brought a small package and gave it to Jeanette. It was Agnes's purse and car keys and clothes. "Oh," Jeanette said, "and her dentures."

Back in the waiting area there was confusion about what to do next. Everyone was hungry. They discussed in great detail who was driving where and in which car. It was finally decided that they would gather at Agnes's house and that Hulie would stop on the way and pick up po-boy sandwiches. He went around with a piece of paper and a pencil and took everyone's order. Cell phones started ringing, as though news of Agnes's death had suddenly spread on its own. Annie was talking to the nurse about papers that had to be signed. Jeanette was trying to get everyone to agree on what time they would meet at the funeral home the next day.

When Hulie asked Peggy what kind of po-boy she wanted she had no idea what he was talking about, but Fran simply said "We'll take three fried shrimp, dressed."

After twenty minutes the crowd started moving slowly toward the elevators. Peggy rubbed her head trying to make sense of the many threads of conversation that were going on simultaneously: about the food, about the funeral, about Agnes's car, about calling this relative or that relative. Hulie was not kidding, they all talked at the same time. Peggy had difficulty figuring out how any actual communication was taking place.

By the time they all got to the first floor in two elevators it was decided that Rita would ride with Fran and Peggy and Raoul to Agnes's house.

They drove away from the hospital with Rita giving directions. The air had cooled slightly, but it was still muggy.

"What do you think of that hurricane?" Raoul asked Rita.

"Last I saw it was heading west. It'll probably hit Texas," said Rita.


TO BE CONTINUED

I am back on Bainbridge Island, WA. Please be patient for the next couple of parts as I try to tell the story about Hurricane Katrina.