Below is an excerpt from Vanessa Sinclair’s debut novel, Things Happen. You can purchase the set in South Florida book here. Come out to see Vanessa at her author event at Bar Nancy, Thursday, May 2 from 4 to 7 pm.
During her last year of high school and first year of community college, Ivy worked at Spec’s Records and Tapes. She started at the original location in South Miami, then opened the Grove store. And when the South Beach location came along, she helped to open that store, too.
Eventually, Ivy got her own car. It was a gold 1977 Buick Regal, a big boat of a car. It only cost $500. The speedometer didn’t work, and neither did the gas gauge or the air conditioner. Needless to say, Ivy ran out of gas all over town.
They were always heading somewhere on a mission.
If you turned left where Ingraham Highway met Le Jeune Road, you came to Cocoplum Circle. Back then it had those big shoes in the center. From there you could head down Old Cutler or Sunset Drive towards South Miami. Ivy used to hang out at the Bakery Centre, which later became Sunset Place, and the comic book store just across the street.
“There went my turn.”
This is when CDs came in those long cardboard boxes, and later long plastic holders, so they could fit in the old LP racks.
She tried to spruce up the car by sticking Alf stickers that she got at the comic book store all over it – “The 50 States of Alf.” One of her friends hung a little disco ball from the interior roof. It was cute. But none of them ever had any money, so the car never had enough gas, and after the 100th time running out of gas and ending up on the side of the road, Ivy decided she’d rather ride her bike or take the bus, rather than deal with this shit anymore. It wasn’t worth it.
“It was downright dangerous.”
Her parents drove her down Old Cutler Road to a house in Snapper Creek where they planned to wait out the hurricane. The house belonged to these wealthy people who lived in another state. The patriarch was the vice president of some large oil company, and this was their winter home. Ivy’s mom took care of the place in some way or another when the owners were out of town. Upon arrival, her dad proceeded to board up their house as well. He was a busy man that night.
She gave them a joint, and they thanked her. They sat by the fence and smoked it, staying away from the noise for a while.
Ivy’s parents mistakenly assumed that this house in Snapper Creek would to be safer than their own in Coconut Grove. It was newer and fancier. It was a rich person’s house. And their house was so old. The house Ivy grew up in was built in 1913, which was quite old for the region, and Ivy’s dad being a carpenter, the house was perpetually under construction.
It was a fair assumption to make. But unfortunately heading further south brought them directly into the eye of the storm, quite literally. And they had the most hellish experience of their lives.
