Irene Sure Was A Bitch!

"girls, we have to go to the firehouse!"
Maggie's mother poked her head through the bedroom door.
Maeve squirmed on the top bunk
as Maggie sat up as fast as she could
while she was still half asleep.
it was 7AM
and hurricane Irene was currently
tearing through the east coast-
no one had expected the mountains to be hit so hard,
and the valley was feeling it most.
she got dressed, gathered her notebooks,
and cursed under her breath when the sink didn't work.
"the generator can't run the well pump and the electric at the same time."
her dad had explained it earlier.
Maggie leaned out the back door
to wet her toothbrush in the rain.
she had a feeling that the next few days
would be about making due with what they had.

at the firehouse maggie was told to make eggs,
but the president of the firehouse
told her to listen to the radio instead.
she really didn't want to hear what was coming across,
but it's not like she had a choice.
she heard horrible things.
in a half hour she made herself some bad coffee
and sat at the radio again.
half the department
was smoking incessantly outside,
and whenever she heard KCT-262
they brought their smoke in the office with them.
she used to hate that smell, but after a few days,
she came to take a sick comfort in it.
the station had to be manned for the whole week;
and the first night she slept on a table.
people poured in day after day,
and soon she was getting people food, water, and whatever else they needed
instead of listening to that damned radio.
she sat in the parking lot on a folding chair and waited.
Irene devastated those mountains
and tore towns up from their foundations;
carrying them downstream.
piles of rubble were on the side of the road for months.
trailers were bent around trees.
some people lost everything.

to this day the smell of bad coffee
and cigarette smoke
gives me this uneasy yet calm feeling
because that is the smell
of the people who might help
when you feel helpless.