The Heart's Voice by Arlene James Page B

asked.
    He shrugged, not having thought to grab his watch. “Half past three? Not sure.”
    She tilted her head. “How did you know?”
    He understood perfectly well what she was asking. Leaning forward slightly, one hand steadying the boy, he told her. “Just woke up. Felt wrong. Knew it was coming here.”
    “Thank God,” she said fervently.
    “Yes. Thank God.”
    Jemmy suddenly jerked and cried out, clutching her mother.
    “What?” he asked. Becca answered, but she was looking up, so he didn’t understand. “Becca!” hesaid sharply, and she abruptly dropped her gaze, blinked and answered him.
    “Something hit the door.”
    No telling what that was, but it meant something had been flying around inside the house. “Raining?”
    “I think so. It’s quieter now.”
    “Good.” At least, he hoped it was good. Frankly, he wasn’t too sure just how watertight this old root cellar was, but he saw no point in dwelling on that at the moment.
    “I was in a typhoon once,” he said—anything to distract them.
    “What’s a typhoon?” Jemmy wanted to know, turning her face up to him. It looked as if she’d pronounced it tied-foon.
    “Big storm at sea,” he told her.
    “Were you on a ship?” Becca asked, and he nodded, answering Jem’s question before she could ask it.
    “Big, big boat, lots bigger than a house.” Jemmy’s eyes went wide. For the first time he realized that her eyes were almost the same color as his, as blue as a cloudless sky. “Wind blew hard. Ship went up and down.” He rolled his arm and hand in the air, demonstrating what the troughs were like during a typhoon in the open sea. “Like a roller coaster.”
    “Nuh-uh!” Jemmy said skeptically. Then, “What’s a roller coaster?”
    Her mother explained that. Then he told them, as best he could, how they’d lashed themselves into their bunks while dishes and various gear had tumbled and crashed, rain and seawater deluging everything topside. “Scary,” he said finally, realizing that he’d talked more in those minutes than he had in many months.
    CJ slapped a wet hand against Dan’s cheek just then, and Dan realized that his hand wasn’t all that was wet. “Any diapers?” he asked.
    Becca bit her lip and said, “I’ll check.” Shifting Jemmy off her lap, she went to the foot of the steps and gathered up the things they’d dropped earlier. “Might as well get dressed,” she said, carrying them into the light. She placed the lot on the chair and plucked out several items, including a disposable diaper, which she held out to Dan. “Think you can manage CJ while I take care of me and Jemmy?”
    “Try,” he said uncertainly, looking at the bits of clothing as he took them into his hand. He looked up a moment later to find her waiting.
    “Well, turn around,” she said, making a twirling motion with her finger.
    “Oh.” He got up and turned the chair so that it faced the wall, CJ and his clothing tucked under one arm. He sat down again and started trying to figure out what went where.
    The diaper was first, of course. Fortunately CJ lay placidly with his head upon Dan’s knees whilehe managed it. He’d dismantled sophisticated weapons less confusing than all those folds and gathers and tabs, and it wasn’t until he had the thing on that he realized it was backward.
    “Again,” he said with a sigh, but CJ had been patient as long as he was going to be. It became a real wrestling match, and for once Dan was glad he couldn’t hear, for he was sure there was much laughing going on behind him. Nevertheless, he finally got the squirmy critter corralled and saddled. Then came the actual clothing, which turned out to be a one-piece shorts-and-shirt thing with a bewildering number of snaps. He fastened the crotch together twice before he got it right, and by then CJ was completely out of patience. Hitting a moving target at a hundred yards was nothing, Dan concluded, compared to getting a tiny sock on a busy foot. In the