Free Surviving Us by Erin Noelle

comfortable on, starting the first group session of the trip. I wished we would’ve waited around a little while for everyone to meet up before we broke off, but I didn’t have a good reason to suggest it other than wanting to see Davis again.
    Not surprisingly, Ashleigh leads our discussion, giving a quick recap of her story, most of which I already know, but is still disturbing to listen to nonetheless. It hits too close to home.
    Ashleigh’s dad had hurried home from work to pick up her, her mom, and her brother one Tuesday afternoon in October 1989, to take them out to dinner where they could watch what was supposed to be the first World Series game between the San Francisco Giants and Oakland A’s on a big screen television. Only ten years old at the time, she remembers making them run late because she hadn’t listened to her mom and put her shoes on when she was told.
    They were on the freeway when the infamous Loma Prieta earthquake struck, causing the upper deck of the section they were on to collapse on top of their car, as well as many others. Forty-two people were killed in the small section of roadway that gave way; one was saved by a man from a nearby car. The miraculous rescue of Ashleigh was captured on live television, and on every anniversary of the earthquake, she’s forced to see footage of the horrendous natural disaster that took her family from her.
    All three of us have wet eyes by the time she finishes her story, and I’m beginning to agree with Davis—reliving these stories is depressing. Thankfully, Val must share my sentiments and decides to talk about the charity she began in her children’s memory for underprivileged kids to receive musical instruments. Her two teenage daughters, who were killed in a boating accident—a boat she was at the helm of—were both actively involved in the band at their high school. Providing instruments to other youngsters who would otherwise not be able to participate due to the expense is how she honors their memory.
    “I’d like to do something like that,” I blurt out, moved by her generosity, “but I’ve got no idea how to even start or who I’d do it for.”
    “May I ask what happened to bring you here?” Val asks softly, tucking her long gray hair behind her ears.
    “Tornado,” I answer, not ready to talk about it anymore than that. For years after, Granny sent me to psychologists, where I relived the story so many times I began to feel like a broken record. The broken part was the truth.
    “I’m sure you can look up tornado relief programs online and see how you could donate your time. That may be a good place to start and become familiar with the different avenues of assisting.”
    I smile a genuine, heartfelt smile. “I’ve always thought I wanted to stay as far away from anything having to do with tornadoes, but listening to you talk about the joy you get in giving back, I think I’ll check it out when I get home.”
    We talk a bit longer before breaking to freshen up for dinner. On my walk back to my room, I pass a few others, including Davis sitting on the ground with Isaac and Lynnette. His back is to me, but I can tell from his body language—shoulders slumped and picking blades of grass—he doesn’t want to be there. His obvious unhappiness tugs at my heart, and I pause unconsciously, resisting the urge to do something silly like go throw my arms around him just to make him smile.
    I’m not sure if he feels my presence or it’s just pure happenstance, but nevertheless, he slowly twists around, locking his eyes on mine. A goofy grin breaks out across his face, and though I feel a little bad about distracting him from the group, I smile back and wave before scurrying off down the dirt path.



BACK IN MY ROOM, I’ve got about thirty minutes to change into a dress, fix my windblown hair, and apply a little makeup before dinner. After all of those things are done, it leaves me just enough time to stare in the mirror and ask