Henry Franks A Novel

twenty six





Rain poured down in sheets. The windshield wipers put up a good fight but did little good. A line of cars snaked across the bridge off Saint Simons, and a single car drove slowly through the storm over the causeway onto the island. William hunched over the wheel, wiping his sleeve over the inside of the window to clear away the condensation. He followed the yellow reflectors and the streetlights, barely visible through the storm.

When he rolled down the window to try to improve visibility, the rain whipped into the car, pelting his skin. On the side of the road puddles grew large enough to have their own current, flowing across the street and cascading upwards like a fountain as he drove through them. Wind clawed at the car and whenever he sped up in frustration the car hydroplaned and he gripped tighter to the steering wheel.

The links scrolled down the screen, page after page as Henry kept hitting Next. Dr. Frank Williams, Chief Medical Examiner, Jefferson County, Alabama. Trials and evidence and citations in newspaper articles; countless tiny black-and-white pictures of his father.

“Henry?” Justine said, her hand resting on his shoulder. “CME, remember? Chief Medical Examiner. And look, University of Alabama, Birmingham. CME-U.”

He breathed. In. Out. Again. He breathed and remembered nothing.

“Henry?” she said. “Talk to me.”

He clicked on an item at random, scrolling through the windows. Link after link, Google traced his father’s history in Birmingham until the articles stopped.

“Is that you?” Justine asked, her finger resting on the screen.

“Dr. Frank Williams,” he read from the caption beneath her hand, “and his son Henry, 13, at a 10K walk/fundraiser for cancer research.”

“You’re bald,” Justine said.

With sunken eyes, a pale smooth hairless skull, and a defiant smile, thirteen-year-old Henry stared at the camera, holding tight to his father’s hand.

“Cancer?” he said, the word as quiet as a sigh.

“Google ‘Henry Williams,’” Justine said, her grip on his shoulder tightening. “In Birmingham.”

The links made for a far shorter list than that for his father.

Outside, rain patterned the windows. Dark clouds raced across the sky and the wind pushed against the house, banging the shutters that hadn’t been nailed down properly. A crash of thunder shook the room and the lightning slicing open the sky sent crazy shadows behind them.

Henry followed the links to short notices in the Birmingham News about thirteen-year-old Henry Williams: Relapsed Acute Myelogenous Leukemia and stem-cell transplants and countless sessions of chemotherapy as they walked the annual 10K. The Chief Medical Examiner and his dying son. Raising money so that, just maybe, others would live.

From around the island, evacuation sirens cut through the storm as thunder rolled across the sky.

Justine squeezed down on his shoulder, her fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt, but he didn’t feel the pain. “Henry,” she said, her voice almost drowned out by the storm, “Google Victor, Alexandra, and Elizabeth in Birmingham.”

Henry typed and hit enter. Almost three million results. On the third page, beneath the glowing blue letters, Dr. Frank Williams was also listed. Henry clicked one more link, the page loading as thunder ripped through the house and the power died, leaving them in blackness.

The transformer shot sparks into the sky with an explosive roar and the streetlights went dark. William tried his high beams but they didn’t penetrate very far into the pounding rain. The yellow line in the middle of the road was between his tires as he drove, fighting his way home. Through the storm, he could hear the sirens blaring their evacuation warnings, the sound mixing with the wind until it disappeared.

The car stalled as he pulled into Harrison Pointe, water flooding the engine. William turned the key, pounding his hand on the dashboard until the car roared back to life.

NOAA Alert: Hurricane Erika Potential Category 5; 150 Miles Southeast of Savannah, GA

Miami, FL—August 28, 2009, 7:13 PM: At 7 p.m. EDT, the National Hurricane Center is reporting that the center of Hurricane Erika is located about 150 miles southeast of Savannah, GA.

Erika is moving toward the west near 15 mph and this motion is expected to continue tonight and Saturday. On the projected path, the eye of Erika is expected to make landfall along the northern coast of Florida or the southern coast of Georgia late tonight.

Maximum sustained winds are near 150 mph with higher gusts. Erika is a potentially catastrophic Category 5 hurricane with some weakening in strength expected prior to landfall.

Hurricane force winds extend outward up to 50 miles from the center with tropical storm force winds for an additional 100 miles.