Glory Girl (8 page)

Then Anna was aware only of the sound of the bus motor, still running, of tires spinning uselessly in the air. The noises gave her a strange, almost safe feeling, as if the bus were trying to straighten itself and drive on as before.

Anna raised her head. The headlights from the Thunderbird were shining on the bus now, and in that light Anna could see her mother beside her. Beyond, Angel was trying to sit up, and her father, somehow still suspended in the driver’s seat, was struggling to free himself.

In the back of the bus one of the twins called, “Help!” The other, upside down, called a weaker, “Me, too!”

Leaning forward, Anna heard the screech of tires as the Thunderbird drove away. The sound of the engine faded away in the distance. The light was gone with it, and the Glorys were left with only the dim glow from the dashboard.

“Kids?” Mrs. Glory called. Her weak voice was almost lost in the sound of the racing bus engine. The engine was running stronger now than it had ever done on the road.

“I’m all right,” Anna answered. “I’m right beside you.”

“Angel?”

“I’m all right.”

“Boys?”

Before the twins could answer, one of the trees that the bus was leaning against snapped. The sound was as sharp as gunfire. The front of the bus dipped alarmingly. Then there was another crack. A second tree bent and broke.

Anna’s hands flew up as she felt the bus sliding over the embankment to the creek below. She screamed. She tumbled backward.

The bus thudded onto its top. It slid, hit a tree, hesitated for a moment, and rolled over again. Then it began its drop down the long steep bank.

Anna’s body was being battered around the inside of the bus as if she were a toy. She screamed as she was slammed into the side of the bus. She struck a seat, felt another body fall against her back. She struck metal, glass, bit through her lip as her face smashed into the floor.

She screamed again and again. She heard other screams, too, but these human sounds became lost in the terrible metallic groans of the bus as it slammed down the rugged bank.

Nothing could stop it. It crashed into rocks. It flattened brush. It tore the limbs off trees. It turned over again.

Then there was one last earsplitting splash, followed by a moment that sounded like silence because the only noise was that of water against the bus.

The Glory bus had come to rest in the creek. It was upside down. The front of the bus was slowly sinking into the rain-swollen waters; the back was in the air. The whole thing seemed about to go underwater at any moment.

The current rushed around the bus. The bus was lifted for a moment and carried forward. It came to rest jammed against some rocks.

Inside the bus Anna lay where she had fallen. She was in the front corner of the bus, crumpled on her side. She opened her eyes.

She could not see anything. The darkness was absolute. Anna blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust. The darkness continued. There was not even the memory of light.

It was like the time Anna had gone into a cave. The Glorys had been on their way home from a performance in Virginia and, on the twins’ urging, they had stopped at Endless Caverns.

Deep within the cave, the guide had cut off the lights for a moment. The darkness had been so awesome that everybody fell silent. No one moved. Even the twins, who had planned to play tricks on each other in the dark, were still standing stockstill when the lights came on again.

Anna put her hand to her eyes. Pain shot through her shoulder, and she dropped her hand limply to her side.

As she lay there, stunned, not sure where she was or what had happened, a streak of lightning jagged in the sky. It repeated itself, turning the world white with a light brighter than the sun.

Anna, her eyes wide with shock and fear, looked out on a world literally turned upside down. The seats of the bus were overhead. The lightning flashed beyond them. She lay on the ceiling. Darkness and, somehow, water were below.

The darkness came again, merciful this time. And Anna closed her eyes and drifted into unconsciousness.

W
HEN ANNA OPENED HER
eyes again, her body was still twisted into the same corner of the bus. She did not know where she was. She did not even remember that she had, five minutes before, opened her eyes and in a flash of lightning seen the upside-down world.

She stretched one trembling hand out into the darkness. She felt nothing familiar. The only sound was the rushing of water close by. There was nothing familiar in that, either.

Suddenly she heard someone moan. “Who’s there?” she cried sharply.

There was no answer.

Anna shifted. She struggled to lift her head, and nausea swept over her. Her head throbbed. The taste of blood was in her mouth. Icy fingers wrapped around her ankles.

“Mom?” Anna reached out and touched slivers of broken glass. She rubbed her fingers over the glass, wondering what it was. She touched cloth. Her fingers curled around the fabric.

“Mom?”

It was not her mother, only one of the costumes, fallen from its hanger. It clung wetly to her hand.

The icy water was sweeping higher. It was above her ankles now. She shuddered with cold and pulled her feet out of the water. She paused and listened. Someone was moaning.

Anna crawled forward. She touched someone in the dark—and gasped. “Who’s there?” Her teeth were chattering now. No answer. “Who are you?”

Anna ran her fingers over the still face. “Is that you, Mom?”

The icy water had risen about her feet again. As Anna tried to crawl out of it, lightning flashed and thunder boomed. The lightning turned the world white again, and Anna paused, frozen with horror.

She saw her surroundings then so vividly that the image would be burned into her brain forever. The upside-down bus. Her mother’s still profile. Her father, suspended upside down in the driver’s seat, his arms hanging over his head as if in surrender. The costumes on the dark water. The body of Angel, her arm laid gracefully on the costumes, her long hair trailing into the water.

Then darkness came and Anna clawed her way forward. As she knelt over her mother’s body, she suddenly heard a new sound, a rapping. It made no sense. “Mom, can you hear me?”

She thought she heard her mother speak. She bent her head closer. “Mom!”

It was then that she saw a light at the back of the bus. She looked up, squinting. A thin beam of light was shining around the inside of the bus, touching on the costumes, sliding over Angel’s pale face, Mr. Glory’s arms, then on her own face.

“Is someone there?” she asked, her voice cracking with fear and hope.

The small circle of light was turned backward to shine onto a round face. Anna blinked. The face seemed far away, something at the end of a long tunnel.

“It’s me,” a voice called. “It’s Uncle Newt.”

Anna knelt where she was. She watched as Uncle Newt crawled into the bus, the beam of his flashlight bouncing over the walls, the dripping seats. He came toward her, his feet sliding on the slick, wet ceiling.

“You all right?” He shone the light into her pale face. She nodded.

“Well, you’re going to have to help me, honey. Can you move?”

Anna nodded again. Uncle Newt stuck his flashlight under one arm and helped her sit up.

“What happened?” she asked. “I can’t remember anything.”

“You had an accident. Some boys run you off the road. I knew what they were up to, but I couldn’t stop them. Can you move your legs?”

“I think so. My feet are numb.”

“By the time I caught up with you, the bus was off the road and them punks leaving. I got there to see you disappear down the bank.”

Anna swayed, and Uncle Newt caught her around the shoulders. He said again, “You all right?”

“Yes.”

“When I looked down the bank and saw where the bus was at—well, I thought you were goners.”

“Where are we?”

“In the creek. The bus is upside down. That’s why everything looks so strange, why the water is—” He broke off. “Right now we got to get you and your folks out of here.”

“I can make it,” Anna said. “You look after the others.”

“The trouble is I need your help. Can you take your mother on this side?”

“I don’t know—I—”

Anna lost her footing on the slick surface and went down on one knee. “Easy does it.” Uncle Newt helped her up.

He bent over Mrs. Glory. “Maudine, it’s Newt,” he said in a loud voice. “You hear me, Maudine? We got to get you out of here.”

Mrs. Glory moaned.

“She’s coming to. Grab her under the arm and let’s get going. Time’s running out.”

With a new urgency, forgetting her numb feet, her pain, Anna grabbed her mother’s arm. She and Uncle Newt began moving Mrs. Glory toward the back door. Mrs. Glory moaned in protest, and her small shoeless feet trailed behind, twitching helplessly in the icy water.

At the door Uncle Newt said, “Hold your mother right there. Don’t let her slip back while I climb outside. You got her?”

“Yes.”

Anna was shuddering violently, her teeth clacking together so hard she could barely speak. There was a splash as Uncle Newt dropped into the water. Anna pressed against her mother, holding her by the door. Her eyes closed with the effort.

“All right, I’m ready!” Uncle Newt called.

“Come on, Mom.”

Anna raised up slightly and, pulling her mother with her, leaned out the door. She hung there, too weak to move for a moment. The metal cut into her waist. “Uncle Newt?”

A bolt of lightning lit up the sky then, and Anna looked down with horror. Dark water swirled around the bus, rushing downstream with enough power to carry the whole bus with it.

“Let go. I’ve got her,” Uncle Newt called in the darkness that followed.

A
NNA LAY BY THE
doorway, leaning her head against the metal frame. Her eyes were closed. She was startled when Uncle Newt took her by the shoulders and shook her. “Your brothers are over here, hon. Come on.”

“Where are we?” she asked, looking around in confusion as the flashlight lit up the eerie scene.

Uncle Newt tugged her arm. “Come on. I got your mom to shore. She spoke. She said, ‘Angel.’ I reckon she—Here, give me a hand. Can you sit up, son?”

Joshua moaned, “No.”

“Put your arm around me.”

“I can’t … I hurt.”

Anna crawled toward them. She remembered now. She said, “We all hurt, Joshua, but we’ve got to get out or we’re going to drown.”

“Drown?”

“The water’s rising, son.” Uncle Newt slipped his arm under Joshua’s shoulder. “The bus is braced against some rocks, and it’s holding, but if the water gets higher …” His voice trailed off as he lifted Joshua. “Well, we’re liable to wash on down to Columbia.”

In the pale beam from the flashlight, Anna could see Matthew on the other side of Joshua. “I’ll get him,” she said, even though she was not sure she could. She grabbed Matthew’s arm and began to drag him toward the door.

Matthew moaned. “He’s alive,” Anna told Uncle Newt.

“Here, I’ll get them both at once. You just hold them while I get outside.”

As Uncle Newt climbed back into the water, he said, “You take the light and see where the others are at.”

“I know where they are.”

“I’m ready,” Uncle Newt called, and Anna thrust Joshua through the doorway.

“And here’s Matthew.” Anna shoved his limp body into Uncle Newt’s arms. Then she picked up the light and shone it around the bus.

Angel lay where she had fallen, and Mr. Glory still hung upside down in the driver’s seat. The water had risen to cover his hands now.

Anna crawled toward Angel, pushing objects aside as she moved. “Angel!” She knelt beside her. “Angel, wake up. We’ve got to get out of here. Angel, the bus is upside down in a river. We’re going to drown if we don’t get out!”

“Anna?” Angel whispered.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“I’m hurt.”

“Everybody is.”

“But I can’t move. I’m—”

“I’ll get her.” It was Uncle Newt again. Anna shone the light on her sister. Her wet hair swung in a wide arc as Uncle Newt picked her up. Angel cried as he struggled to the door with her.

At the door Uncle Newt called, “Come on, Anna, you too.”

“I have to help Dad.”

“I’ll help him. I want you out of here.”

“I can’t leave him!”

“Come on!”

In a daze Anna struggled to the door. Lightning flashed as she got there, and in the burst of light she climbed out and dropped into the cold water. She clung to the bus, gasping for breath, too weak to fight the current alone.

The lightning flashed again, and in the white world Anna saw Uncle Newt coming toward her. The water swirled around his chest now, and his round face was twisted with the effort. Overhead, the angry clouds rumbled. Then, just as Anna felt her hands slipping from the icy metal, Uncle Newt was there. He put his arm around her and carried her to the bank.

Anna felt herself being laid on the ground. Raindrops as big as marbles were falling on her face. She tried to lift her head.

Beside her, she could hear her sister crying and one of her brothers moaning. “I’m dying,” he blubbered.

“Nobody’s dy-dying,” she stuttered.

“That’s what it feels like.”

Anna called, “Uncle Newt?”

Uncle Newt had gone back into the bus. The flashlight had died, and Uncle Newt was now searching in total darkness for his brother. He felt his way to the driver’s seat, calling, “Bubba, Bubba,” the name he had used when they were boys.

Suddenly the bus shifted, and Uncle Newt felt the water rise. He waited in a crouch until he was sure the bus was steady again. “Bubba!”

“I’m here.”

Uncle Newt waded toward the weak sound of his brother’s voice. “I’m stuck … trapped.” Uncle Newt brushed against his brother’s hand, which was trailing in the water. He reached out and held it. It was the first time the brothers had touched in thirteen years.

“What’s holding you?” Uncle Newt asked, gasping, trembling from cold and desperation.

“It’s my leg … the seat …”

Bracing against the side of the bus, Uncle Newt pulled on the metal seat. “It’s giving a little.” He strained with all his might. “Try to pull your leg out.”