God and Cupcakes

Mixing cupcake batter, phone cradled at my neck, I listened to my fellow homeschooling parents "Laissez le bon temps rouler" attitude about Katrina. New Orleans and the Gulf Coast were not under evacuation, more importantly, we had a party in Ocean Springs that afternoon.

As the kids woke up, my phone continued to ring with mixed messages on what to do. I had never left for a storm before, preferring to take my chances. Besides, I lived on the second floor.

"Go to the party, wait till we are under evacuation."
"Go to New Orleans so you are not struck when the surge comes."
"Come to Key West, we've already been hit."
"Come to the party and if you want,you can ride out the storm on my daddy's steel hulled shrimp boat."
"Come visit us in North Carolina."
"Ya gotta go."

I finally turned on the TV, adjusted the rabbit ears to get a better picture, hushed the kids who were excited for Liam's party.

Holy Shit, she's a big mighty big one. I had never seen a storm so wide before.The newscaster were preaching preparation for Apalachicola to Texas, moving the cone of probability closer to Galveston. I blinked and looked again, following the wind shear and water temp calculations. Nagin, the mayor of New Orleans came on and reiterated that we were not under evacuation yet and would keep us posted.

The voice of God or maybe reason spoke to me as clear as day.

"You have to go right NOW."

Dialing the phone, the lines had started to jam. Getting calls through was becoming increasingly harder, the storm had doubled in size overnight.

Getting Russell, my spiritual advisor, sometimes boss and closest friend to leave was impossible. He also lived in Pass Christian now, about two miles up from the coast in a brand new Aracadian style house.
" Darlin' don'cha remember Hurricane Georges? We ate real good, Gigi danced naked and pee'd on my coffee table" he said laughing,I could hear the smile in his voice.
We had spent a week or so holed up in his house far out on the West Bank, couple of miles from Bayou Barataria. We cooked up all the meat in the freezer so it wouldn't spoil when the power went out. Russell made the best gumbo and fried chicken I ever had. We spent our time shooting the shit, eating, and laughing. I used the time cooped up inside to potty train my daughter. We marveled at the stillness when we went outside to stand in the eye of the storm. When it was all said and done, we had no damages, down the road every one flooded.
"Come stay with us, I'll make ya gumbo, I live further inland."
"You old goat, are you gonna get in the car if I come pick you up?"
My car was a beater, a grey Thunderbird two door, no air conditioning, and windows that you prayed to work.
"Now you know Felicia, Sable and I will not fit in that car of yours."
"You ol' fat coon ass, maybe if you didn't start everything with a stick of butter and walked further than to make a cup of coffee you would." This was an old argument, Russell had a tripe bypass a few years back before I had met him. I constantly nagged him for selfish reasons. I wanted him to live.Felicia was his girlfriend, an ex stripper turned High Priestess. Sable was their three-legged,wheezing, fat pug.
"I'm gonna go this time, I believe it's gonna be bigger than Camille" hanging up, I started to panic. I poured the rest of the cupcake batter in the sink and washed the bowl. I did not want to come back home to a house full of ants after the storm.

Next time I saw Russell we were both shell-shocked, defeated and homeless.