Echoes of Purpose - 3. Chapter 3

Echoes of Purpose

Chapter 3

The gym was alive with motion and murmurs when I pushed through the doors, the white boxer trotting faithfully at my side. Roger, Joey, Sammy, and Robert followed close behind, their clothes still damp from the rain, faces drawn but proud.

The sheriff stood near the entrance, clipboard in hand, his voice carrying authority as he greeted Mr. Johnson—the head of one of Pine Hills’ banks—with a firm handshake. The man’s suit was wrinkled, his composure barely holding after the chaos of the night.

Before the sheriff could speak again, Mrs. Johnson stepped forward, her voice trembling with emotion. “Sheriff, these boys saved us,” she said, turning toward me and the others. “They risked their lives out there. If it weren’t for them, we might not be standing here.”

Her words rippled through the gym, drawing quiet attention from the evacuees scattered across the bleachers. I shifted, brushing the dog’s head as it leaned against my leg. Roger and Joey exchanged uncertain glances, while Sammy gave a small, tired smile.

The sheriff nodded slowly, his expression softening. “Looks like Pine Hills has a few heroes tonight,” he said.

For a moment, the noise faded—the drip of rain from the rafters, the shuffle of blankets, the hum of generators. I didn’t feel like a hero. But I felt the weight of exhaustion, the sting of cold air, and the quiet relief that everyone had made it back alive.

Then Robert’s satellite phone buzzed. I watched as he answered it. “Yes, sir. He’s right here. Andy, it’s your father.”

I took the phone from Robert. “Hello.”

“Andy, it’s me.” My dad’s serious judge voice came through the static. “I’m on my way from Louisville by helicopter.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I’m not sure if we’ll need to land and refuel, so I can’t say exactly when we’ll arrive—but I’m coming

I couldn’t imagine flying in this weather. “Will it be safe in this storm?”

“Yes. That’s what they told me. Besides, by the time I get there, the storm will have passed.” He hesitated, then added, “By the way, your lawyers at Mellon Trust called. I confirmed my approval for your transfer and purchases.”

“Awesome, Dad. People here are hurting and need supplies. I just want to help where I can,” I explained, trying to make him understand why I did what I did.

Dad snorted a laugh. “I know, son—and I’m proud of you for thinking of others in need.”

The boxer chose that moment to bark.

“What’s that, son?”

“Oh, what?” I asked innocently.

Of course, she had to bark again

“Sounds like you’ve got a watchdog keeping you honest,” Dad said, his voice softening.

“Well, yeah. I guess I do—and I can explain. I found her stranded in the flood, and I felt really bad for her. She was surrounded by water, soaked through, shivering… I just had to save her.” I paused, then quickly added, “Can I keep her?”

Dad chuckled softly. “You’ve always had a good heart, Andy. If she trusts you, that’s reason enough for me.” He paused, his tone shifting to that familiar judge’s caution. “But tell me—did she have a collar or any tags? Someone might be looking for her.”

I glanced down at the boxer, who wagged her tail as if she understood. “No collar. Nothing. Just mud and rain.”

Dad sighed. “All right then. If no one claims her, she’s yours. But make sure you check with the local shelters first. It’s the right thing to do.”

Dad exhaled, his tone shifting from warmth to concern.. “Andy… you’ve been out in that flood, haven’t you?”

I hesitated. “Yeah, Dad. We had to. People were trapped, and Roger, Joey, and I couldn’t just stand by.”

There was a pause on the line, the hum of the helicopter faint behind his voice. “Son, that water’s dangerous—unstable banks, debris, currents you can’t see. You could’ve been swept away.”

“I know,” I said quietly. “But we were careful. Roger kept watch, Joey helped with the ropes. We did what we had to.”

Dad took a deep breath, the sound heavy with pride and worry. “You’ve got courage, Andy. Just promise me you’ll stay clear of those banks until the water drops. I can’t lose you, son.”

“Yes, Dad. I also have Uncle Steve and Aunt Alice, along with Sammy’s dad at our house with Miss Nancy instead of here at the high school gym.” I told Dad.

There was a pause on the line. When Dad spoke again, his voice carried that familiar mix of authority and worry. “Andy, you’ve done the right thing keeping them safe, but I need to know—how bad is it out there? Are the roads still under water? What about Roger and Joey?

I glanced toward the window, where rain still streaked the glass. “The water hasn't dropped any and the banks are soft. Roger and Joey are fine—they’re helping at the gym. We’re keeping everyone dry and fed.”

Dad's voice softened , his tone shifting from warmth to concern. “Good. Just promise me you’ll stay clear of those banks until the current settles. You’ve got people counting on you, son.”

BARK!

Dad laughed softly. “Andy, sounds like someone’s demanding your attention.” His voice gentled, then grew serious. “I need to get ready to leave here, but listen to me—I’m serious about you staying safe. It would kill me to lose you like I lost your mother. Okay?”

“Yes, Dad. You stay safe too. I don’t want to lose you either.” I said.

Dad’s voice softened again. “I will, son. I promise. We’ll get through this—both of us. I’ll see you soon. Now put Robert back on the phone.”

I swallowed hard and nodded, even though Dad couldn’t see me. “Okay,” I whispered, then turned toward Robert. He’d been standing nearby the whole time, arms crossed, worry etched across his face.

“Dad wants you,” I said, holding out the phone.

Robert took it with a firm, steady hand. “Judge?” he said, voice shifting into that calm, capable tone he used when things got serious.

Dad’s voice came through faintly, but I could still hear the urgency beneath it. “Robert, I’m heading out in a few minutes. I need an update on your end. How’s the gym? Any new evacuees? And keep those boys away from the riverbanks. They’ve already been out in that water, and I don’t want them anywhere near it again.”

Robert glanced at me, then moved a few steps away to talk. “Yes, sir. I’ll keep them clear. The gym’s stable, and we’ve got volunteers sorting supplies. Andy’s been doing good work—don’t worry, I’ll keep him grounded.”

Dad’s reply was softer now, but still edged with concern. “Thank you. I trust you. I’ll be there soon.”

Robert nodded, even though Dad couldn’t see him. “We’ll be ready.”

I lingered nearby while Robert finished the call, his voice low and steady. He spoke of supplies, volunteers, and the gym’s condition—things that sounded distant now, like echoes from another world.

The boxer nudged my leg again, tail sweeping the floor. Her eyes were tired but trusting, and something in that look pulled me back to the moment.

When Robert hung up, he gave me a nod. “Judge says he’ll be here soon. You did good, Andy.”

I nodded, but my attention was already on her. “Thanks,” I murmured, then crouched down beside the dog. “Come on, girl. Let’s get you outside.”

The drizzle had softened to a mist, the air cool and heavy with the scent of wet pine. She followed me to the doorway, cautious but curious. Watching her, I realized she needed a name—something that fit her strength and grace.

“Sheba,” I said quietly. She looked up, ears perked, tail wagging.

Back inside, I checked the donated food stacked near the bleachers until I found a can of chicken and some leftover rice. “Not fancy,” I told her, spooning it into a paper bowl, “but it’s food.”

She ate like she hadn’t seen a meal in days, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Welcome home, Sheba,” I whispered.

Robert hung up and set the phone on the counter. The tension in his shoulders eased a little as he turned toward me.

“She's yours now?” he asked, nodding at the white boxer curled beside the pantry.

I smiled faintly. “Guess so. She followed me in from the flood. Figured she deserved a name.”

Robert crouched down, rubbing Sheba’s head. “Sheba, huh? Suits her. Strong name for a survivor.”

“She’s hungry,” I said, watching her lick the last of the rice from the bowl. “I’ll find her something better tomorrow.”

Robert straightened, giving me a look that was half pride, half fatigue. “You’ve got a good heart, Andy. Keep it that way. Folks need that right now.”

I nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle somewhere deep. Outside, the rain whispered against the windows, steady and patient—like Sheba’s breathing beside me.

Sammy hurried over to me and Robert, worry etched across his face. “Have either of you heard from Mike? He didn’t make it to the gym today.”

I looked up. “No, not since the rain started.”

“He’s in Carcassonne,” Sammy said, voice tight. “With the rivers rising on both sides of the mountain, he and his family could be trapped.”

We all huddled near the gym’s entrance, the air thick with the smell of wet concrete and sweat. Sammy’s voice cut through the steady drumming of rain. As he explained to Joey and Debbie. “Mike’s in Carcassonne,” he said, eyes darting between us. “If the rivers rose overnight, he and his family might be trapped.”

Debbie pulled her jacket tighter. “Roads are probably flooded,” she murmured. I glanced at Robert, then back at Sammy.

The thought of Mike stuck up there gnawed at me. “We’ll figure something out,” I said, though the words felt thin against the storm outside.

The rain kept pounding, and for a moment, none of us spoke — just the sound of it, relentless, like time itself pressing down.

The gym doors swung open, and the first of the National Guard stepped inside, boots slick with mud and rainwater. Their uniforms looked almost too clean against the chaos outside—like order walking into ruin. I watched as a spokesman—a captain, judging by the bars on his collar—strode toward Sheriff Daniels, his expression steady but urgent.

“Sir,” the captain said, voice steady but urgent, “the state and county have officially declared a natural disaster. Search and rescue teams are en route.”

The sheriff squared his shoulders. “I’m the highest law in this county,” he said. “That means I’m in charge.”

The captain didn’t flinch. “Sheriff, you’re still the top authority in the county,” the captain said. “But with FEMA activated, we operate under unified command — state, federal, and local working side by side.”

Daniels gave a curt nod, the tension easing just a fraction. “Then let’s get to work.” I stood back, watching the exchange—two men bound by duty, each trying to hold the line while the world outside drowned.

The captain glanced around the gym, taking in the handful of deputies clustered near the door. “Sheriff, I understand you’ve only got four or five men on duty,” he said. “We’ll reinforce your perimeter and handle logistics until FEMA arrives.”

Daniels nodded, jaw tight. “We’ll do what we can. My boys know this county better than anyone.”

“That’s exactly why we need you,” the captain replied. “FEMA will coordinate the big picture, but you’re still the law here. We’ll follow your lead.”

I watched them shake hands — two sides of the same fight, one local, one national — both trying to keep the county from slipping under the floodwaters.

Two hours had passed since the Guard first arrived, the gym still buzzing with tension and half‑formed plans. I was pacing near the bleachers when Robert’s phone lit up. He answered immediately.

“Judge? Yes, sir… okay. Less than an hour out.”

I stopped pacing. “What’s he saying?”

Robert lowered the phone, eyes flicking toward me. “The helicopter’s about forty‑five minutes away.”

That hit me like a spark. “Then—then they could stop at Carcassonne.”

Robert blinked. “What?”

“Mike, Steve, their parents,” I said, the words tumbling out. “They’re still up there. Both ways off the ridge are gone — the roads are under water. The chopper’s the only way to get to them now.”

Robert looked at me for a long second, then nodded. “I’ll tell the judge. If the pilot agrees, they might be able to pull them out. But we also need to know exactly where their house is up there.”

“It’s on top of the ridge, just north of Blackey,” I said quickly. “There’s a big clearing with a two‑story white house right in the middle.”

He lifted the phone again, stepping away to make the call.

I stood there, heart pounding, listening to the rain hammer the roof… waiting… hoping…

OOOOO