The Storm

Chapter Six

Henry

T rue to the instructions, I did as the old man said and headed through Ruby. Turning right on the first dirt road, I came to the fence with the huge catfish heads hanging on every picket in the front. Kind of like trophies, I supposed, and also an advertisement to the prowess of the mighty fisherman. The fish looked more like prehistoric monsters than any fish that I had ever seen. But, of course, there's not much fishing in Brooklyn, other than what you see at Eddie’s fish market on 40th Street or on your plate at Valencio’s Restaurant. I stopped the Jeep and got out and rang the old brass bell by the gate. No Henry, so I rang it again and peered onto the front porch. The whole house had the same look as the houses on the side streets of Ruby. Part of the porch sagged from the weight of the porch roof. The screen door had part of its screen missing and the hardware was rusty. Moss was hanging from the porch roof like green angel hair, and the shingles had turned green as well. I rang the bell again and yelled out, “IS ANYONE HOME?!” I waited for Henry to come to the door. Then, in a fewmoments the old door squeaked open and a big, bearded man stepped out onto the porch around the partially opened screen door. Peering in my direction, the old guy bellowed out "WHAT DO YOUWANT?” Raising my voice, I shouted back, “ARE YOU HENRY?” “WHOSE ASKIN'?” he yelled back. “I’m a guy that needs a guide for upriver. The man

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