Grandpa's face went red. "Mayor, I guess you don't need me to tell you the wimmenfolk is madder'n fire and sputterin' like wrens. Less'n they get home soon and tote their soggy mattresses and chairs out in the air, ever'thing'll be spoilt."
"Yes, I know. I know. I'm doing the best I can to get things cleared up. Right now I have a call in for our Senator in Washington. Perhaps he can get some action for us."
"But how about all the folk who didn't evacuate?"
"We can't force them to leave their homes, Clarence. But those that are at Wallops Station just can't come back until all the dead animals are removed. And Clarence," he called as Grandpa shifted into gear, "when the order does come through, we'll want you to help with the airlifting."
On the long trip to Pocomoke, Grandpa kept grumbling and muttering to himself.
Paul couldn't keep his eyes open. With Misty close by him, where he could reach back and touch her, he suddenly felt easy and relaxed, easier than he had since the storm began. He tried to stay awake. He tried to listen to Grandpa. He tried to watch the scenery. But his eyelids drooped. Finally he crawled in with Misty and slept on the floor beside her.
When at last they turned into Dr. Finney's place, Grandpa had to shake him awake.
