Chapter 1

August 23, 2016 – Hurricane Karl barrels up Caribbean, sideswiping the Bahamas and then staying out to sea, gathering strength, finally making land fall in Nova Scotia.

1:00 AM, Monday, August 22, 2016 – Park Warden’s House

“Butt head, wake up,” a voice demanded. Blake opened his eyes. It was dark.

“What?” Blake asked groggily.

“Sarah is coming over to this room to sleep for a while,” Ian Harrell, Blake’s older sister’s twenty-year-old, longtime boyfriend, explained. “Emma and I want time together.”

“Whatever,” Blake said.

“You keep this shag our secret, Blake,” Ian warned. “I’ll slice your balls off if you don’t.” The fourteen-year-old teen shuddered at the threat to his testicles.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Dad,” Blake parroted. “Ian was in my room all night.”

“You got it, kid,” Ian said. He sneaked out of Blake’s room and down the hallway to his sister’s bedroom, the next room down the hall. Blake glanced at his clock. It was 1:22 AM. He was going to be forced to listen for the next forty-five to sixty minutes while Ian shagged his sister, Emma.

Sarah showed up from next door a minute later. “Sorry Ian sexiled you,” Blake offered in consolation.

“What?” Sarah exclaimed. Blake realized immediately that their common language was interfering with his American friend’s ability to understand what he meant.

“Sorry, I meant to say, I am sorry Ian gave you the boot,” Blake replied.

“At least I understand getting the boot,” Sarah asked. “What is sexiled?”

“Exiled so Ian and Emma can do the nasty,” he confirmed.

“Where do you want me to lay down?” Sarah asked.

Blake scooted over to make room in his bed. “Ian and Emma will be a while. You should get comfortable.”

“Thanks, Blake,” Sarah said as she climbed into bed. “What do you think they are going to do?”

“Shag,” Blake answered. Sarah laughed.

“You’re Canadian,” Sarah said, “But you have a most delightful way of speaking like you’re British.”

“We drove all the French out of Nova Scotia two hundred and fifty years ago,” Blake explained. “This is a very British province.”

“Shag? You mean they’re going to screw?”

“Yes,” Blake agreed. “The interior walls in this government house are paper thin. We will get to hear every moan and groan as Ian gives my sister a good knobbing.”

As if on cue, through the adjoining wall, the teens heard Emma beg, “Stuff me now, Ian. Fuck me good!” The two college-aged kids were off and fucking. The two over-stimulated younger teens had no choice but to listen to the coupling occurring next door. All they could do is imagine what intercourse really felt like. Was it as much fun as Ian and Emma seemed to imply from the sounds they made as they shagged?

The two soon-to-be ninth graders were virgins but couldn’t be considered innocent. Blake had felt up a girl’s bosoms numerous times. He had his hand down her panties one time, feeling up her womanhood. Sarah had gone further. She had decided to give her virginity to her then boyfriend six weeks earlier. The dumbass was unprepared and didn’t bring rubbers even though he knew Sarah’s agenda for the afternoon. Sarah was directly in the middle between two periods, so unprotected sex was out of the question. They ended up fighting and breaking up instead of giving each other their cherries.

Blake underestimated Ian and Emma’s stamina. It was over an hour before Ian returned to Blake’s room and sent Sarah back to the room she belonged in. Neither Blake nor Sarah got much sleep when they got back to their proper beds. Both teens dreamed of what was to come when they finally lost their virginities.

Tuesday, August 23, 2016 – Park Warden’s House

Jim Hawkins, Emma and Blake’s father, was busy at the stove making pancakes when Blake and Sarah stumbled out to the kitchen in the morning.

“You look tired, sweetie,” Michael Cooper commented.

“I didn’t sleep well last night, Daddy,” Sarah replied. She gave Blake a knowing glance. He returned it with half a smile.

“I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie,” Michael said. “Hopefully you’ll sleep better tonight.”

“I am sure I will,” Sarah agreed.

“Any sign of Emma or Ian?” Jim asked.

“Ian was dead to the world when I got up,” Blake said. “I have no idea why he needs so much sleep.”

“Emma and Ian face a twenty-one hour drive to university,” Jim said. “I would have left at dawn if I were driving. At least they have two days to get to Waterloo.” The phone rang as Jim made the comment. He picked it up and listened for a minute.

“Evacuation?” Jim asked. Everyone perked up and listened, trying figure out who was evacuating what. “I have four hikers out in the back country. Does this include them?” Jim’s face went grim as he listened. “OK, I will do my best to get them evacuated too. Can I get any help from Ingonish? Emma leaves for uni this morning. Blake and I are going to have our hands full here closing up.” Jim paused for a moment. “Shit! OK, I will do my best, Dan but I can’t guarantee I will be able to get to the hikers.”

“What’s up, Jim?” Michael asked.

“You know Hurricane Karl?” Jim explained. “The one the forecasters said would serve east towards Bermuda and fall apart? Now they say it is picking speed and intensity and heading straight for Halifax. They expect the eye to make landfall in about twenty-one hours. They fear Karl could reach Category 3 with 178-210 kph winds and a 3-4 meter storm surge here in Nova Scotia.

“178-210 kph?” Michael asked.

“Say between 110 and 130 miles an hour,” Jim explained. “You and Sara should get packed and hit the road. Blake, go drag Ian and Emma out of bed. They needed to be on the road an hour ago.”

“Got it, Dad,” Blake agreed. He delighted in going back to his room and yelling. “Dad says out of bed, Ian! Move your butt! A hurricane is coming and you and Emma need to be on the road.”

“Shove off, faggot,” Ian snarled back. Emma was less difficult to wake. Blake warned her that Dad wanted to see her immediately. Blake came back to the kitchen as Michael Cooper disagreed with his dad about what the Coopers should do.

“You’re shorthanded here,” Michael said. “Sarah and I aren’t due to go home until Saturday. I am sure you will be able to use an extra hands for the next four days if this hurricane is as bad as they are saying.”

“I don’t want you taking the risk,” Jim replied. “You should evacuate like all the other guests here at the park.”

“Do you think a four meter storm surge is going to hit your house?” Michael challenged.

“Well, no.” Jim replied. “We are 40 meters above sea level. The house is safe.”

“Are you and Blake evacuating too?” Michael asked.

Emma and Ian interrupted the conversation. “Daddy, what is this about a hurricane?” Emma asked.

“Yes, Mr. Hawkins?” Ian added.

Jim Hawkins explained about the change in forecast for Hurricane Karl. He summarized, “You and Ian should hit the road now and be somewhere between Quebec and Montreal by the time the storm hits. You don’t want to be on the causeway leaving Cape Breton when the wind is up.”

“I agree with you, Mr. Hawkins,” Ian said. “Let’s get our stuff together, Emma.”

“I can have pancakes for your breakfast, in about ten minutes,” Jim said.

“Let’s have the car packed before then,” Ian said to Emma.

“Now, you and Blake are sticking it out through the storm,” Michael said when the college bound kids left to finish packing. “What is wrong with me and Sarah helping you get things squared away and then huddling here until the hurricane passes? You can’t tell me you don’t need the help.”

“I can use the help,” Jim admitted. “I won’t send you home early if you are insistent about this.”

“It’ll be an adventure,” Michael said. “It’ll be fun riding out this hurricane. Jim, let Sarah finish up cooking. She knows her way around the kitchen. Why don’t you take a few minutes and get your To Do List organized.”

“Good thinking, Mike,” Jim agreed. “Sarah, go ahead with the pancakes. Blake, get your Parks Canada jacket and wear my Park Warden hat. Take a Gator and drive around to every occupied site in the campground. Wake the campers if they are still asleep. Tell everyone that the park is being evacuated. It is closing at 10:00 AM sharp. Remind anyone who argues with you that the campground could be underwater tonight. Take the campsite number and report back to me after you complete the circuit of the campground. I’ll deal with anyone who gives you difficulties.”

“I got it, Dad,” Blake agreed. He grabbed a jacket out of the closet and put on his dad’s Park Warden hat. Sarah heard what sounded like small garden tractor start up as she flipped the pancakes.

Blake drove the park’s utility Gator down the driveway from the maintenance building, across Cabot Trail road and into the Broad Creek camping area. The Gator, a cross between a golf cart and a lawn mowing tractor was built by John Deere. It had two seats up front for a driver and passenger and a flatbed in back for hauling things. The Gator was a perfect vehicle for travelling around the campgrounds. All roads were posted for a 25 kph maximum speed (15 miles per hour). The Gator could do 25-35 kph easily.

Blake noticed the big, gray bank of clouds out to sea, to the south. That must be the outer edge of the hurricane. The clouds and rain were going to be on them soon.

The campgrounds had about thirty families staying over this week. Most families were up and appreciated Blake stopping by to warn them of the oncoming hurricane. He had to wake up a few families with the bad news. One American gentleman did not take the news well.

“I paid for a whole week at this camping area!” he insisted. “I will be damned if some kid can drive me off my site.”

“I’m not going to drive you off,” Blake answered. He pointed down at the ocean shore. “You are about eight feet above sea level here. The twelve to twenty foot storm surge coming in tonight or tomorrow morning is what is going to drive you off this campsite.”

Blake looked at the man’s big RV. “I wouldn’t want to pull this nice camper over the Cape Breton causeway when the wind is blowing 175-200 kph. Does this thing get unstable in the wind?”

“Yeah,” the man admitted. “Just who is going to reimburse me for the camping fees I lose when I leave?”

“You have to contact Parks Canada,” Blake said. “They handle reservations, payments and any refunds. We can’t do that here.”

“I guess I best get packing,” the man replied.

“Have a safe trip home,” Blake called out as he drove off to the next campsite.

Blake needed about half an hour to inform all the camping area residents about the hurricane and 10:00 AM area closure. He was starving when he headed back to his house.

Sarah handed Blake a plate stacked with golden brown pancakes. He slathered the cakes with butter and drowned them with maple syrup. Blake’s dad and Sarah’s dad returned to the kitchen as Blake was forking pieces of pancake into his mouth. After a pause to finish his mouthful, he asked, “What’s next on the plan for today?”

“Ian and Emma left ten minutes ago,” Jim Hawkins explained to his son. “Michael and I are going to take both Gators and go out to look for the backpackers.”

“Both Gators?” Blake asked as he shoveled another load of pancakes into his mouth.

“As Michael forcefully reminded me, I can’t take all the backpackers back here on the four-seater Gator,” Jim explained. “Two Gators will allow us to evacuate all four backpackers with their gear. Assuming we find them easily, we will be back well before the worst of the hurricane hits.”

“And if you have trouble finding them?” Blake asked.

“We will take a chain saw, sleeping bags, stove, a couple days food and a shelter tarp,” Jim said. “I know of a few rock outcroppings where we can find shelter. We also could shelter at that old cabin near Halfway Lake. Mike and I will be fine if we have to hunker down while the storm passes.”

“What do you need me to do, Dad?” Blake asked between mouthfuls of pancake.

“Mike and I are going to do a final pass through the campground at 10:00 AM and make sure everyone is gone,” Jim Hawkins explained. “You and Sarah should pick up the trash after the campers have left.”

“You are taking the Gators,” Blake asked hopefully, “does that mean I get to drive the truck?”

“You may,” Jim informed his son. “Be careful crossing Cabot Trail. It could have a lot more traffic than we are used to if some of the coastal families decide to evacuate.”

“Cool!” Blake said. “I will be careful, Dad.”

“When you and Sarah get done with the trash you can go through the campground,” Jim said. “Bring in anything small enough to blow away or float away. You can put everything in the maintenance building for now. Don’t worry about organizing it. We’ll worry about that after the hurricane blows through.”

“We can do that, Dad,” Blake agreed. “Right, Sarah?”

“Absolutely,” she agreed. “I’ll be happy to help out.”

Blake finished up his breakfast while his father and Sarah’s dad packed their things for the ride to retrieve the backpackers. Sarah hung out with Blake until he was done. The two teens washed the morning dishes and then headed outside. Jim Hawkins and Michael Cooper had the two Gators packed. Jim would drive the four passenger Gator and Michael would follow with the two passenger utility Gator. Jim took a cruise through the campground at ten o’clock. All but two campers was gone. The last two campers, a couple in their mid-fifties, was hooked up and ready to pull out when Jim found them. Jim wished the couple a safe trip back to Montreal.

Blake was gassing up the campground pickup truck when Jim got back.

“We should be back with the backpackers by mid to late afternoon,” he explained. “We are set for anything, including a night or two in the back country if necessary. Close the storm shutters on the house when you have all the work done and hole up in the house. It will take anything that comes your way. Break out our camping stove and use our emergency rations if the electricity goes out. It wouldn’t surprise me if it does. High winds and all the dead trees along Cabot Trail almost guarantee we will lose power.”

“Sarah and I can handle it, Dad,” Blake said. “I earned the Chief Scout’s Award. I can take care of Sarah and myself.”

“I know you can,” Jim agreed. “Be safe and stay under cover while the hurricane blows through.”

“We will,” Blake agreed. Jim hopped into his Gator and headed up the old dirt and stone road. Michael followed behind him in the second Gator. The kids waved good bye as their fathers disappeared into the Cape Breton wilderness.

Blake and Sarah went to work on the collecting trash in the campground. Blake’s dad was correct. The campers left a lot of trash behind as they hustled to leave before the hurricane hit the area. Blake drove the pickup truck. Sarah grabbed the bags and tossed them in the back of the pickup unless they were too heavy. Blake had to get out and help lift many of the trash cans to get the load dumped. The pair needed all morning and three trips back to the maintenance building before all the trash was gone.

It started to rain as Blake and Sarah made the last trip through the campground for trash. The rain wasn’t heavy, so the teens worked on, even though they didn’t have rain gear. They headed back to Blake’s house when the last of the trash was transferred to the dumpsters behind the maintenance building. They changed to dry clothes and made themselves soup and sandwiches for lunch.

Both teens were outfitted with rain slickers and pants when they went out after lunch. They went through the campground, gathering up empty trash cans, along with any other small, portable items in the campground. They loaded the back of the pickup with everything. Blake just drove the pickup into its parking spot in the maintenance building and shut it off. Sorting out all the things and putting them away would wait until another day. The two teens shut the storm shutters on the maintenance building’s windows and headed for the house. The wind was up and the rain was no longer a drizzle. It was coming down steadily. They finished around 3:30 in the afternoon.