Once home, the father and son pair wasted no time boarding up their exposed windows. In their hurry Tafari had said something to Marley that the boy couldn't quite hear but he knew that, at the time, it almost sounded as if Tafari had begun to reference Marley and not the fragility of the windows. That was when Marley Mason decided to speed up. The sooner they finished this, the sooner both of them could stop having to speak about that which was prone to shatter.

Normally, Marley would have been doing this with headphones on too, a silent indicator to his father that he didn't feel like speaking. But on their walk home Marley's headphone batteries had died and the electricity Marley required at home to charge it, was gone. The house was powerless and the boy had no other option but to work in a place where he was vulnerable to sounds he couldn't turn up, down or off. In a way, it reminded Marley of his time as a waiter in Jah-Jah's Jamaican Jerk Foods. There he was susceptible to sounds as well. Forced to deal with strangers, crowds and customers; like the Jamaican family he'd met earlier today. Often Marley would interact with new families but none of them had ever shared his heritage or the way he laughed or the way his mouth pronounced English words a little differently. If he'd never taken off his headphones he might have never met them. Now that Marley thought of it, he couldn't remember the last time he took his headphones off in his own house.

As Tafari and Marley haphazardly slammed the first, second and final nail into a boarded window pane, there was only silence. Tafari Mason passed his son and went back into their house and Marley tried not to stare after him as he followed. Now, inside the darkened home, Marley turned all around to look at the nailed slabs of wood. He wondered if it would be enough to stop the incoming hurricane. He waited for thunder, the sound of which should indicate the strength of the storm to come, but there was none. Closer to the windows, Marley could hardly hear the wind either. Where was the hurricane we're supposed to be so afraid of? he thought.

Telling himself that the natural disaster might not be that bad after all, Marley Mason entered the kitchen where he saw his father seated around the dining table. He went to pull open the refrigerator when his father muttered that he should be mindful of how often he opened it. Without electricity, it wouldn't be able to produce enough cool air to sustain the food inside and it was their responsibility to conserve it. "But I'm hungry," Marley said.

"Then make it quick. And stop dragging your feet. The world isn't over, you know."

The boy retrieved a can of soda and two oranges. "I'm not." Then he turned to leave but his father stopped him.

"Sit here." Tafari invited him to the chair just across from himself.

Marley turned, analysing the serious look in his father's eyes before finally sitting. "You kids nowadays. Light gone and unnuh act like is the end a di world." Marley wanted to tell him he couldn't care less about the power in this house; there were lights missing in other places. "I hope whoever hit you like dat you yuh hit dem back."

Marley looked up at his father just in time to see the man indicate to his right eye. Marley touched the spot on his own face, the skin still a little tender around the area. "How did you know?"

"It's swollen, Marley. And You keep touching it," Tafari answered nonchalantly. He leaned forward, the table rattled under his weight. "Well? Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Hit dem back?"

Marley winced. If he had tried something like that he was sure Richie would have given him a broken bone. "I didn't get the chance." It wasn't a total lie.

His father huffed. "Anyway, you know what we did when we neva have nuh light?"

Marley amused him. "What?"

Tafari grinned. "ABC fast or slow."

Marley laughed. He hadn't played that game since he was in Jamaica and now it felt like centuries ago, outdated.

Marley laughed. He hadn't played that game since he was in Jamaica and now it felt like centuries ago, outdated.

Tafari sat upright. "Yuh think yuh can beat me inna dat?"

"Relax, ole man. I don't want to stress you out." Tafari stopped smiling, a scowl taking its place. Marley paused.

"Who yuh calling old man?" He feigned launching at Marley and the boy recoiled. Tafari laughed, "guh fi di pen and paper, wimp."

Marley shook his head. He went up the stairs to retrieve the stationary from his bag and came back to the dining table. "How yuh used to play? Boy, Girl, Animal, Place, Movie?" he asked.

Tafari resisted against the movies category at first but digressed, saying he'd win anyway, and the man and the boy of the household headed their papers as such. Tafari stared down his son. He asked, "ABC fast or slow?"

"Fast," Marley answered, narrowing his gaze.

"Tell me when to stop." Tafari sped through the alphabet mentally, hardly saying each letter and definitely skipping some.

"Stop."

Tafari told him the letter he had stopped him on, "A," he said.

Marley blinked. "How yuh guh through the alphabet suh quick?"

"Nuh worry bout that." Tafari started the one-minute timer on his phone. "Go!"

In the short time they each filled out what they needed to. The first round had them tied. But by the fifth, Tafari was winning. The man was laughing away picking the most obscure names of things that Tafari hadn't even heard of.

"Mi wise eenuh," Tafari said, "Not because mi run jerk shop."

*

There was a knock at the door. Marley looked up. For a moment, he thought it was lightning. He thought the hurricane had really begun and now they were in danger. But it was only a knock on their front door. It was only a person. Tafari sank back into his seat and told Marley to see who it was. Marley went and opened the door.

Ava DeLoughery's hair was wet with drizzle. She was clutching her phone in her left hand, a tank top barely covering her shoulders, skinny jeans beneath it. "Hey," she said.

Marley exhaled. She did come back after all. A few days late was better than none at all. Or was it? Marley Mason couldn't get his thoughts in order before the girl started rambling herself.

"I know I shouldn't be here. It's not safe but I just feel really bad about what happened at the beach and I felt like I had to say something.

Marley looked up at the sky blackening. You should really go home, Ava.

"I shouldn't have left you there," she blurted. Marley stepped outside and shut the door behind him so his father wouldn't hear, "You were there for me all summer and I wasn't there for you. I should have fought Richie harder."

You didn't fight him at all.

Her eyes searched his. "Yeah, you're probably right." He wasn't sure she read them correctly. "How have you been holding up?"

Marley stood there next to her and it was strange how so many things had shifted. His heart was calm. Her turquoise nails were painted a different colour (pink), her hair was straight (flat ironed), she was smiling a lot (to get him to smile back). There was no rain or lightning either, but there was silence. The same silence of Marley's bedroom. Marley looked at her pointedly. Ava you should really get home before it starts raining.

She ignored him. "Something about the weather makes me want to reconcile, you know? A beat passed. "Are we-are we good?"

You're miserable with him and it's clear. Now you show up asking for apologies? You're using me to distract you from him. Again. There was a time when she would have read all of that off Marley's face like it was paper, but now she only stared at him blankly. He smiled to himself. She smiled hopefully.

Marley remembered what his father had said to him inside too: I hope whoever hit you like dat yuh hit dem back. He thought of how many wars had begun like that. How much misery. Marley Mason, on the threshold of his small house, in his small neighbourhood tucked away where people only expected small things to come from, decided and eye for an eye was not worth it. Neither was running away. Instead, he gave Ava DeLoughery something no one could take from him. Not anymore.

Marley Mason nodded. "We're good," he whispered.

The lightning and rain came after. The hurricane was officially here. It had built and built and built until it finally exploded in the sky. And for the first time, Marley wasn't afraid of it.

Only one poem left before this book is over!