The rain has started to slow down, which is helping visibility quite a bit. The wind is still loud, still making its presence known, but it’s growing more and more infrequent. At least it feels that way to me.
The water level seems the same here. I know that it’s deeper in this area only when I look at Alan’s house. At Nikhil’s the water comes up through the yard, but it’s not at our doorstep. The river is mostly contained in the street.
That’s not the case here. Alan’s house looks like it’s partially submerged. None of his front yard is visible. And the bottom part of his front door is definitely underwater. I can’t tell by how much, but at least a few inches.
“We’re going to head to the gate,” Nikhil says. “I’ll tie us there, all right?”
We paddle in that direction until Nikhil can reach out and wrap a hand around the metal gatepost. Keeping one hand on the canoe and one on the gate, he steps out, making a small splash as the water rises to his knees.
He secures us in place with a small length of rope, checking and double-checking the knot before letting it go.
“I’m going to try to go through the front. You stay here.” He takes another step away, the water rising past his knees, concealing his lower thighs.
“What happened to rule number two?” I call. “The buddy system? We have to stay together.”
“Yeah, well, rule number one is more important. You stay in theboat. Remember?” He continues walking, the water steadily creeping up his body.
“I don’t remember promising to do that.”
“Well, you did,” he shouts. He’s almost at the door and I tell myself I’ll be less nervous once he makes it. Once he gets inside, gets Alan, and gets back. But right when he’s within reach of the doorknob, he staggers back, letting out a loud cry.
“Nikhil!” I stand up in the canoe. Foolish, I know, but I’m not thinking straight. The boat rocks, and I grasp at the gate to regain my balance. “What happened?”
He’s waist-deep now, swatting his arms at something. But he’s turned away. I can’t see his face. I can’t see if he’s okay.
“Nikhil! I’m coming. Hang on!”
“No, don’t come out here,” he cries. “I’m fine, I’m…OW. My god!”
That’s it. I’m knee-deep in the water before I even realize what I’m doing. I push my way toward him, but it’s like I’m walking in slow motion. Or through Jell-O. The water slowing down every step I take.
“I’m coming,” I tell him.
He swivels in my direction, a wild expression on his face. “No. Meena, go back. You can’t be here. You’re—”
Ouch. A sharp pain strikes the back of my calf. I try to look for whatever I hit, whatever hurt me, but I can’t see a thing in this water. I shake it off, taking another step. Then another. But now my left arm is stinging. And a spot on my right shoulder. And my lower back. And…now I can’t keep track. Little pinpricks of pain pop up all over my body. Over and over and over. But they don’t just hurt. They burn. Almost like fire. Almost like…
“You’re allergic,” Nikhil continues. “Go back. Go back now.”
“Too late,” I say, picking up the pace, swatting at the water as Imove. The pain is unbearable. My skin is hot. And so, so itchy. Though I know what these bites are going to turn into later will be much worse.
Nikhil’s reached the door, but he’s waiting for me. Visibly flinching with each new bite. “Hurry!” he tells me, extending a hand in my direction. But I’m still too far away.
“Go inside,” I tell him. “I’ll be right there.”
“Not without you!”
Each step burns, but finally I’m close enough to reach for him. He yanks me toward the door just as a floating reddish-brown mass sails past. “Is that—?”
“Yeah,” he confirms.
I stare in horror, a full-body shiver going through me. It’s been years since I’ve seen one of these in person, but I know exactly what it is. Fire ants do something weird when water sweeps through their home. They band together. They lock arms and legs, or whatever their appendages are called, and they form a strange kind of raft. And then…they float.
They survive.
And they bite.
I hadn’t seen the raft when I’d been pushing my way through the water, but I’d experienced the stragglers. The ones that must have fallen off into the water on their own. Biting at anything in their path. And from the painful, itchy sections of my skin, I can tell there were more than a few.