The night that Hurricane Ida crashed into town I was putting together a puzzle of Queen Elizabeth II by lantern light, with a cat and a glass of bourbon.
Melanie was on the storm team at the zoo that night. She was hunkered down in the fortified reptile house with the other zookeepers who were ready to spring into action if a rhino got loose during hurricane force winds. So I was worried about her. I was also worried about the rest of my friends and family, my kids, and me as I puzzled in my ex-husband’s kitchen, listening to the wind tear down trees outside.
For those of you who don’t know, Chris, my ex-husband, and I are friends. He and his girlfriend, Trish, had invited me and the kids to shelter at their house in Ponchatoula. We enjoyed their generator and array of food, like Nutella and beef jerky. But none of us slept well the night the storm made landfall.
The puzzle helped. It was something I could focus on, something I could control. To top it off, the picture I was putting together was the “Keep Calm and Carry On” lady herself – Queen Elizabeth II.
See that chill, steady gaze? That gaze said to me, “While the 100 mile per hour winds blow, keep your soul as still as a pond. More tea?”
It was grounding. Over the coming days, as more and more bad news came in, I bent my head to the puzzle. Electricity won’t be on in New Orleans for another month? Puzzle. My wife could be living at the zoo for the next two to three weeks? Puzzle. Starbucks is closed indefinitely? Puzzle, puzzle, puzzle, puzzle.
It turned out that our power would only be off for two weeks and not four, and Melanie would be able to come home in six days. But I didn’t know that. So….
The hardest part of a hurricane, for me, is the first few days after. Minutes after is great. Minutes after, the winds die down and objects stop flying into the side of the house, there is the relief of, “We’re alive. The house is still standing. The roof is still on. The living room isn’t filling with river water.” But then there’s hardly any way to find out the status of anything that’s not right outside the front door. In the case of Ida, fallen trees blocked the neighborhood roadways. The internet was out. Cell phone lines were down, so I couldn’t get in touch with Melanie, my sisters, parents, or friends for a while. At one point I sat in my car looking for news on the radio. That was how I found out the citites to the west of New Orleans had gotten the worst of it, but it didn’t tell me the crucial information that I needed, which was, “Your loved ones, Genevieve Rheams, are all okay.” It was hard not to panic in the uncertainty.
With my puzzle I could see the complete picture. Maybe all the pieces weren’t together yet but I could find them and put them where they needed to go. I had the cover on the box as a guide and the Queen’s cool, calm, collected demeanor.
After some time working with the Queen’s face, I started to see other subtlties in her stately visage. She looked bored. How well could she move in that white gown and regal, velvet cloak? How long did she have to sit for that painting? Did they break for lunch? This was an image of her the day of her coronation. While she sat as still as a porcelain doll, was she filled with anxiety? She had no idea how her reign would go.
How long would it take for my life to go back to normal? Weeks? Months? I was still feeling wobbly from the last natural disaster. Would things ever feel whole again? All I could do for those first few days was make this puzzle whole. Me and the Queen, we were going to make a complete picture.
Finally, I finished it. Aaaaaaaand…
Five pieces were missing.
“Well,” Her Majesty said, “That’s typical. More tea?”