Clubhouse Magazine

Carlos Hernandez wasn't sure what awakened him--his dog's howling or the shaking. "EARTHQUAKE!" yelled his 15-year-old brother, Luis, in bed below him. Ricardo, 17, shouted from his bed against the opposite wall of their living room. "We gotta get outta here!"

Fear rose in Carlos. Get out? The bed in the Los Angeles apartment was jolting sideways two feet each way and bouncing up and down, too. It was hard enough to hang on.

Carlos' golden retriever, Peppy, barked and yowled. Carlos thought he heard his sisters screaming. But rattles, creaks and crashes drowned out human sounds. Beneath it all, he heard the deep roar of the moving earth.

He couldn't see much in the dark. Dim white things were smashing to the floor alongside the bed. Ceiling tiles! "We gotta stand in the doorway or something!" babbled Luis.

And then the rumble quieted and the bouncing lessened. The side-to-side swaying grew slower, though it still felt like the house was sliding. Slower ... and slower ... until it came to a stop, as though a carnival ride operator had pulled the brake lever.

The rest of the family stumbled into the living room. Papa held a flashlight and carried 6-year-old Maria. Carlos' teen sister, Anna, cradled baby Rosa, who cooed and clapped. She was the only calm one in the family.

Everyone hugged. Mama poured out a prayer in Spanish, thanking God no one was hurt. But just when Carlos' heart was returning to its normal beat, the rumbling and rocking started again. Papa yanked open the front door. "Everybody outside now!"

From underneath the kitchen table, Peppy peered with terrified eyes. "Peppy, come!"

To the boy's relief, Peppy obeyed. Papa slammed the door shut as the earthquake's first aftershock ended.

An orange-pink glow lit the smog-hazed horizon as the Hernandez family joined a huge crowd making its way toward a Los Angeles city park. Carlos scanned the faces for his friend Felipe. He lived nearby, in low-income housing. Was Felipe okay?

His answer came sneaking up from behind. Carlos was standing at a stoplight, still looking for his friend. Suddenly his legs buckled under him. Somebody had hit the backs of his knees, and Carlos knew who--Felipe.

Carlos toppled with a shout into the arms of a strange lady! She pushed him away with a disgusted grunt. Mama scolded him, made him apologize and then scolded him again.

But they stopped when they saw, across the street, four of the worst bullies from Fern Street Elementary School. Their group specialty was making life miserable for the two fifth-grade boys: hitting them, kicking their stomachs, stealing their lunch money.

"Waiting like a vulture." Carlos craned to see past the next corner, where he was sure Juan Cortez hovered. Then his eyes fell on Papa. "What are we worried for with Papa right here, and Ricardo and Luis?!"

They reached the park as the fifth tremor hit--nothing compared to the quake itself--but scary enough. Papa put his family under a large tree with a white trunk. Many neighborhood families, including Felipe's, sat nearby, finding comfort in each other.

After the Shock
The day that had started with such terrible excitement turned boring. Carlos and Felipe couldn't run around; the park was too jammed with people. Everyone lined up as volunteers served bologna sandwiches, chips and apples for lunch.

Then came grilled hamburgers for supper. It was sort of fun sleeping on the ground in a rolled-up blanket, although it was hard and bumpy.

The next day started crowded and boring, because Felipe had to stay with his own family. Carlos had nothing to do until Luis rushed to him and said, "We need Peppy to find a trapped 10-year-old boy!"

Carlos snapped a leash on Peppy's collar. "Okay, but I better get to go along! He obeys me the best!"

Ricardo and Luis led Carlos and Peppy to a man in a dark blue uniform. His name badge said Steve Heraldson. His medium-brown hair looked blond from dust, and his eyes were red-rimmed from tiredness.

Peppy jumped in the back of Steve's pickup the moment Carlos called him. "Smart dog!" he said.

Steve poured himself a mug of strong coffee, started the truck and off they went.

Rubble Rumblings
Carlos stared in sad amazement at the piles of stuff that had once been houses in this neighborhood. Some were half-houses, as though giants had pounded them with sledge hammers, then left before they'd finished the job.

A worried family watched while Steve held a brown sock in front of Peppy's nose. The dog then towed his young master past scattered shingles and silverware and Hot Wheels cars.

Peppy ran around a corner of the rubble pile. Nope! Back again. With bright eyes and trembling legs, the pup suddenly stopped and stared.

Peppy barked, and would have dug furiously if Steve hadn't beckoned Carlos to pull him away. "Great dog!" the man exclaimed before he spoke directions into a walkie-talkie. Carlos beamed and scratched Peppy's ears.

The rescue workers (including Ricardo and Luis) went hard at the task of clearing debris. Carlos wanted to help, too, but Steve said, "Too heavy for you. We don't want you getting hurt."

Disappointed, Carlos took Peppy on a walk. As they passed a house that had only two walls left standing, something pulled the dog up short. Something drew him to a section of collapsed wall lying at an angle. The boy watched the dog's nostrils flare as he sniffed and sniffed and ...

Carlos dropped to his stomach and peered underneath the plasterboard. A hand! It twitched, then stretched toward the light. He heard a groan. Then a young male voice, feeble and scratchy. "H-hey! Somebody there? Help me! I can't move!"

Carlos pushed away and stood up. Hatred boiled inside him. The voice belonged to Juan Cortez--the bully.

Trapped
Carlos looked down both sides of the street. People were scattered all over the neighborhood. But no one came near this house.

Let him suffer! Carlos could almost feel the bully kicking his stomach. He gave a fierce little laugh, yanked Peppy's leash and walked away.

Carlos gritted his teeth. Let his family get him out! It's not my problem! But where were Juan's parents? Trapped, too?

"Help me!" screamed Juan. Then he made a different sound. Gasps of pain? Coughs? No, sobs. He was crying. Carlos suddenly pictured himself trapped under a fallen wall, face down in the dirt, unable to move. He's been like that for over two days, he marveled.

He found himself remembering the Bible verse his Good News Club teachers had taught him at last week's meeting which felt years ago now. They'd drilled it until he had it memorized. Romans 12:20-21, "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink,... Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."

The boy suddenly realized these weren't just his thoughts! He was having an argument with God! "Okay, Lord Jesus," he mumbled. "I'll get help for Juan."

But first he had to give Juan hope. Carlos ran back to the fallen wall. The bully was still crying, in soft, almost whispered moans. "Hey, Juan?"

"It's--um--me, Carlos Hernandez. There's a bunch of people a couple houses over. I'll bring 'em." He paused. "You need a drink of water or something?"

He ran with Peppy galloping beside him. He felt urgent. Hyper. And something else. Joy? Yeah, joy! It felt good to be helping Juan Cortez! Amazing! If God could give thoughts, did this mean He could change feelings, too?

A Newfound Friend
Steve rushed part of his team to the Cortez house. Carlos raced to Steve's truck, grabbed a jar of spring water and hurried back. Juan's angled hole was surrounded by adults. "Let's get him a drink," Steve was saying.

He dropped to his knees, unscrewed the cap and placed the jar in Juan's hands. They disappeared in the blackness, and Carlos heard gulps and swallows. The jar appeared again, empty.

"Thanks, Carlos. For saving me, you know? I don't deserve it." Juan started crying again. "I've been a jerk to everybody, but to you the worst of all. I'm sorry, man! I'm sorry...."

"It's okay," mumbled Carlos. He wanted to tell Juan that Jesus would forgive him, too. But Steve waved him out of the way. He watched his brothers toss rubble away from the trapped boy and knew he could talk to Juan later. Face to face. As friends.

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