I woke the next morning with a lot on my mind. Still couldn't get a hold of Gramps. I had to arrange a convoy to go to the Valley. I asked Derek if he would help.

"Dre, we're brothers. I've known you a long time. You've taken us pretty deep this time. Don't get me wrong, I like what you're doing. I'm really enjoying working with Wondah on communication and defense for both here and the port. But things are growing very fast and I'm not sure if you can keep up. I'm not going to challenge you, but somebody might?"

"Thanks for the head up, Der. You always were the levelheaded one. I've been thinking about that. You and I are contractors, not politicians. Before long I'm going to pull together the people of the port and ask them to start their own government like every village has."

"That sounds like a solid plan. You're good at that." He smiled.

"Hopefully that will free me, and you, from the place so it can grow on its own."

"Mind if I change the subject? What have you and Wondah found out about the Valley?"

"It isn't good. NOAA radar from space is giving us images of more hurricanes building off Central America, in the Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico. It's already a very busy tropical storms season. We are also seeing lots of very strong thunderstorms all across the rest of the United States. Very high temperatures, followed by strong fronts. Lots of tornadoes being pinpointed by satellite technology with no one at the helm.

"Closer to home, satellite Internet images are showing us that several dams have been breached and at least two have failed with catastrophic results downstream. The Los Angeles River is draining water as far away as the Valley that remains flooded, for now."

"Is Caylee still dumping rain on the valley?"

"No, she finally moved into Nevada and beyond."

"Any sign that the flooding has gone down?"

"We were seeing less flooding this morning from last night. Large areas are still underwater and are draining down all the rivers virtually unstopped overflowing all the dams."

"Guess I'll have to wait a while before we go."

"Yeah, Wondah and I will keep an eye on those cameras we can still reach by Internet and let you know when we think it's possible to get there as the flooding subsides."

At breakfast, Ray gathered up any free man and woman that he could find who wasn't occupied with food production, to go with him down to the beach to help clean up. He borrowed my four wheeler, a trailer and assorted shovels, pails and pans to help with the cleanup.

On our way to the shop, I filled Melody in the beach cleanup, the upcoming convoy and additional work that I expected we would have. But I had a premonition I didn't tell Melody about.

Before we got there while taking the 10, the view below had changed from the last time I drove that way. It was obvious that the hurricane and street flooding had been disastrous in some neighborhoods. Debris in the streets was not just wind debris, but also parts of buildings that had been washed away. In some places there were deep gullies torn through streets as the storm sewer system was overwhelmed and the water ran down the streets the quickest way to the Pacific.

And, what I had thought would happen had. For a full half mile before we got to where the shop was, the streets were flooded from the LA River! Melody was shocked having seen it for the first time. But I knew the shop was underwater and there was no going there. My only thought was that the office was on the second floor and hopefully, didn't flood. The supplies and equipment in the yard could be replaced from other parts of town.

Driving very carefully to avoid driving off a hidden piece of I-10 fallen into the flood below or with a support so badly damaged that the freeway would fail from my truck's weight, we drove across the raging river to the other side. We took a safe exit, and then came back on the eastbound lanes, once again, amazed at the power and destruction of all that water coming from all that way, no longer held back by dams or diversions.

We stopped over the torrent and both of us got out to look from the rail.

I found myself saying, "Melody, in spite of losing the shop, there's something awesome about watching the water with all that debris in it roiling below us. Carrying everything to the Pacific it can tear loose."

"There sure is." Melody held me close. "It gives me shivers. Truly awesome."

We got back in the truck and headed to see how the crew was doing at the Santa Monica beach. Before we got there we could see smoke rising. When we were in view of the beach, there was fire spewing black smoke up and down the entire coast. Even hurricane beached boats were burning.

"What the hell happened?" I yelled.

Melody answered, "I don't know, but we're going to find out."

We pulled up behind four other vehicles parked at the entrance to the pier. We could see them, men, women and children, all frantically, with pails and shovels trying to put down fires with seawater and sand that had caught a number of the older creosote covered wood pier supports that weren't protected by steel or concrete.

I grabbed two pails and a couple of shovels from our truck and we rushed down to help them put out the fires while all the way up and down the beach, the shoreline was on fire.

We struggled for another half hour while the oil and gasoline in the water burned out and the wooden debris that was on fire was extinguished by seawater from waves.

Afterward, I asked a soaked and soot covered Ray what happened.

"When we got here, we dragged the wood we could into large piles that I thought we might burn later as bonfires. And started shoveling the oil and tar-soaked sand into buckets and pans I didn't have a good idea where to take at first. There was just too much… Way too much!" Ray shook his head and I agreed.

"When I saw that the greasy gasoline and oil slick was constantly being washed up on the shore, someone suggested that it might burn it as a way of getting rid of it. I thought it was a good idea, so I lit a piece of wood and threw it into the oily slick. There was a flash, almost an explosion, and the fire raced up and down the coast beyond our control. Even the section of the dry sandy beach that had been soiled was burning.

"Flames were very hot and reaching over 10 feet. The chemical smell of the smoke was overpowering. We all ran down to the pier and tried to put the fire out under it so the whole pier wouldn't burn.

We were fighting for over a half hour before you two came along and helped us. By that time, everything had pretty much burned out except big jams of wood from buildings and boats that will probably burn a long time."

I sighed when he finished explaining. "Well, I guess that's one way of getting rid of that oil and gasoline--chemicals--in the water and on the beach. But if more keeps washing in, we may have to do it again. I sure hope that fire doesn't get to the port. It could do a lot of damage there."

"You're right, Drake, I had the same thought. From what I can see, it'll be a while before we can fish again. Should we take fish to the Valley when we may need it here?"

"I promised and we need the fresh meat that the Valley can provide us until we can grow animals here. We might be able to gather enough fruit and nuts from backyards here, but they have a lot of crops and animals we could benefit from until we start sustaining ourselves with your expert help."

"A lot to think about. I'm glad you’re thinking and planning ahead. I'm not very good at that. Just what I'm gonna do for the next day and that's about it. BTW, I'm just a dumb Midwestern farmer, not the expert you claim.” 

Our chuckles broke the tension we had been feeling from the fight with the fire.

Melody, as dirty as the rest of us with no chance of washing off in the ocean that may still be toxic, agreed…

"There's so much to do it's almost overwhelming. I don't know how you do it, Drake."

"Been doing it all my life, watching my dad plan huge projects and carry them out. I had a good teacher. And it really helped to have Derek there as my idea bouncing board. He steered me in another direction many times, keeping us both out of trouble," I had to laugh at the memories I hadn't shared.

"Well, we can't do any more here today. I suggest we all go home and work on all those projects we are behind on. Let's come back here tomorrow morning and see if we will have to burn the surf again. Save the Santa Monica pier again."

When we got back to the truck, my phone was ringing. I ran to get it and answered. It was Van.

"Where you been? I been calling over hour and you no answer. What's up?"

"We have been fighting fire at the Santa Monica pier. I left my phone in the truck."

"The water start coming up about noon. We saw and everyone run for the hotel or the ship. Water come in and destroy the market but not get in cold storage, yet. First floor of hotel flooded. But we are safe, for now. No longer able to give you fish."

I should have expected it. "That's okay, at least you're all safe, for now."

"We have dinghy to get to other buildings. Houses we remodeling ruined. We start snaring seagulls, pigeons and rats for meat. We be okay. Just want you know, that's all." He hung up having said his piece.

We returned home hoping for a hot shower together, only to find out that Marsha had sent the kids to another house because she had three of our residents in the house with symptoms of Covid. Augie Palmer and his son Rocky, and Viktoria Sarnoff, Viktor's wife. Augie was the worst, having a great deal of trouble breathing.

Marsha had secured a few bottles of oxygen when we searched pharmacies earlier and had them in her garage along with a couple of oxygen making machines.

I wondered what else could happen. And didn't want to think about it. To divert my attention, we talked about what we might name Melody's baby. We took a hot shower to get all the grime off together. It didn't work. I couldn't sleep even after making passionate love with her.

Copyright 2023 © Ronald W. Hull

7/30/23