The Hurricane

He turned away from the heavily wooded cul-de-sac and wandered up the street, fighting the urge to take pictures of everything. Two houses down, the lone tree in an otherwise cleared yard had fallen against a neighbor’s house. The thick trunk hadn’t made a direct hit, but the massive kraken of limbs had ensnared the house. The gutters hung like a twisted, glittering tassel from the edge of the roof. The front door was completely hemmed in from the crash. Daniel hoped the back door was obstruction free, or the occupants were going to be climbing out windows.

Several of the houses he passed stirred with the same sort of early-morning activity: People standing outside in pajamas, some of them clutching steaming mugs, all sporting bewildered eyes. They waved at Daniel and each other, and he marveled at how few of his neighbors he recognized. Somewhere in the distance he heard a chainsaw buzz to life, the throttle worked over and over as it revved up and down with the cough of a machine long asleep. Daniel welcomed this intrusion into the quiet. It was the sound of a thing working and of progress being made. Somewhere, a piece of the littered ground was being cleared. When he looked out at all the incredible damage, he wondered if it would be months or even years before they had a handle on it all.

“Hey you.”

Daniel whirled around and looked for the person calling out.

“Over here.”

Someone by the bushes of the next house was waving at him. Daniel turned and walked toward the house. He noticed a huge swath of shingles had been ripped from the roof, leaving the black tar paper underneath torn, a layer of raw plywood exposed beneath that. The person by the bushes waved him over hurriedly. Daniel broke into a jog, wondering if someone was hurt. When he got closer, he saw the person was kneeling down by a solar panel, an open toolbox by her feet. It was difficult to peg the girl’s age. She had her hair tied back and covered with a red bandana; her face was plain and young-looking with no makeup.

“Can you hold something for me?”

Daniel shrugged. “Sure. I guess.”

He bent down and studied what she was doing. She immediately went back to work, not bothering to introduce herself. Daniel found the behavior odd and somehow intriguing.

“There’s not enough wire to twist together, so I need you to hold it while I solder them.” She pointed to the two pieces of wire, one of them sticking out of the base of the solar panel, the other coming from a stripped wire that led to a small black box.

“Okay,” Daniel said. “I’m Daniel, by the way.”

“That’s awesome,” she said. “Just hold that one right there so it overlaps with the bit of wire coming out of the red part.”

“What’re you fixing?” Daniel grabbed the one wire and held it close to the small piece of wire coming out of the solar panel. Tracing the severed cord leading away from the panel, he saw that it headed out toward a row of landscaping lights scattered among the bushes and aimed back at the house. He wondered why it would be urgent to get the mood lighting going in the middle of the morning, right after a major storm.

“I’m not fixing anything,” the girl said. “I’m making something.” She held up a small wand-like device that had a butane cartridge shoved in one end. The thing hissed, and smoke curled from the tip. With her other hand, she held a coil of silver wire, one end of it straightened and sticking out like an index finger from a fist. She dabbed the smoking tip of the wand against the coil of wire and some of it melted and coated the end of the device. She then bent close to the solar panel and touched the wand and the wire to the connection Daniel was making. With a few deft touches—her hands were much more still and confident than Daniel’s—the joint was made solid, a bright touch of solder reflecting the morning light before it cooled and lost its sheen.

“See if that’s gonna hold.”

Daniel tugged the wires, and they held fast.

“One more,” she said, pointing to another pair that had been stripped back. Daniel was sad there was only one more to do.

“What exactly are you making?” he asked.

“A very weak power station. I think.” She smiled up at him before leaning close and coating the wires with another neat connection. Daniel waited for the solder to dull as before, then tested it.

“You’re good with that.”

“My dad’s into radios,” she said, as if that explained how she had become proficient as well. She twisted a knob on the soldering iron and set it on a stand propped up in the grass. She pulled out a roll of black electrical tape and began covering the new connections with tight coils. “My name’s Anna, by the way.” She smirked up at him. “I’m thinking of changing it.”

Daniel laughed. “Yeah, that’s not gonna be the most popular of names for a while.” He rested back on his heels and watched her work. “What’s your middle name?”

“Florence.”

She laughed, and Daniel joined in.

“That’s no good either,” he said.

“I know, right? That’s a name I’m keeping in the wings until I’m seventy or something.”

“Definitely a name to grow into.”

She put the tape away and moved to the small black box. After adjusting a knob on it, she flicked a switch and a dim red light glowed. She pulled a multimeter from the toolbox and unwrapped the pair of red and black wires from around it.

“What’s this gonna do?” Daniel asked. He couldn’t see the solar panel running anything huge, like a fridge or a coffee maker.

“The panel puts out twelve volts for the lights,” the girl said. “There’s a voltage regulator and a battery in that box mounted below—the one with the wires.” She pointed with one of the leads from the multimeter to the new connections they’d made. “This is an inverter my dad uses in his car. It plugs into a cigarette adapter and puts out one hundred twenty volts like a normal outlet, just not as much juice.” She bent over one of the small outlets in the black box and inserted the two long, needle-like leads from the multimeter, each one into either of the two slots. “This thing is used to getting nine volts, and now it’s getting twelve. Now I need to see exactly how much we’re getting out of it in AC.”

Daniel smiled. He looked across the street as a couple started dragging limbs from one unnatural pile and placed them in one they had decided made more sense.

“One hundred twelve,” Anna said. She sniffed. “That’s plenty.” She turned a knob on the multimeter with several loud clicks. “Now to see how many amps.” She frowned at the LCD readout as it flicked with numbers. “Not bad,” she said. “Enough to charge a cellphone or a laptop.”

Daniel beamed. “That’s brilliant,” he said. “What’re you hoping to charge with it?”

Anna looked up at him, a lopsided frown of confusion on her face. “Whatever needs charging,” she said.

“I know, but what did you have in mind to wanna get up and do this first thing in the morning? A radio?”

She laughed. “No. Actually, we have one of those hand-cranked kinds. No, I didn’t make this for anything I’ve got. They’re saying we could be at least a week, maybe more, without power. This’ll be for whoever needs it.” She pointed toward the end of the driveway. “I’ll put up a sign in a little bit to let people know it’s ready.”

“How much?” Daniel asked.

She tucked a loose wisp of hair, so fine Daniel couldn’t tell what color it was, behind her ear. “What do you mean? You mean money?” She frowned. “I can’t charge for this.”

Daniel felt like an ass. He rubbed his hand over his camera, which was low on juice. He’d been asking in order to offer something in exchange for the charge. It had come out like he was accusing, or even encouraging her for gouging people in a time of need, rather than offering them a service.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said feebly.

“Yeah,” she said, sounding unconvinced. “Anyway, thanks for your help. Hope I didn’t use up too much of your time.” She rubbed her hands on the seat of her pants. “In exchange for your services, I can let you use this anytime you like.” She smirked at him.

“Thanks,” Daniel said. He looked up as a man exited the front door with a folded blue tarp in his hands. “I guess I’ll go.”

“Anna?” The man peered down the driveway.

“Over here, Dad.” She waved at him, but looked over her shoulder to smile at Daniel.