Help after Harvey

Booth was stretched out comfortably in his yellow leather recliner, alternately enjoying a hockey match and snoozing. He reached for his Yeti water bottle and caught sight of his younger son at the top of the stairs. His arms were curled protectively around an object, which appeared rather heavy. With his little tongue extruding from his mouth, and his eyes squinted shut with effort, the child very carefully descended the steps, one at a time. Right foot, right foot, right foot. Booth hadn't seen Hank walk this way since babyhood. Whatever burden he carried, obviously held great significance. His father silently hoped it wasn't one of Brennan's artifacts. More than once, their first grader had carried a collectible he fancied into his startled mother's office to ask a question.

As he reached the bottom, Hank looked hopefully at his dad. Booth smiled at the boy.

"Whatcha got there, Bub?" he asked.

There was no response until Hank reached the recliner and deposited his burden in Booth's lap. It was his skull shaped 'piggy' bank.

"I wanna help those peoples. They're getting rained and rained on," Hank stated, as if it was obvious, then asked a question.

"Daddy, who is Harvey?"

Booth leaned over and hoisted his son over the scuffed leather footrest, settling Hank alongside his bank.

"Harvey's not a person, Sport, it's a really bad storm; called a hurricane. It comes in off the ocean with strong whirling winds. And you're right, lots of heavy rain. So much that rivers overflow into yards and streets."

"Can't somebody stop it?"

"Nope, there's not anyone who can do that, Kiddo. But we can send some of your money, and some of Mommy's and mine, to help those people out. Or we could go to the store and buy water to send them in a truck."

"Why would they want more water? They've already gots too much!"

Booth stifled a chuckle at Hank's very serious expression.

"Yes, they do have too much rain water, but it's yucky with mud, so they can't drink it. Some of the water pipes that bring clean water to houses have broken, so the water in the bathroom faucet isn't healthy. They have to drink bottled water until the pipes can be fixed," Booth told him, trying to explain a complex problem.

"Okay, Daddy. How we gonna get it down to them? In the mail?"

"No, that would be too heavy. That's why sending money is good , so they can buy whatever they need. Let's go talk to Mommy and see if she has any ideas, okay?"

He maneuvered the recliner to an upright position, then gathered his son and the bank, and got to his feet. Ascending the stairs to the kitchen, he called to his wife, "Bones? Honey?"

Her voice came from the laundry room. "Yes, Booth?"

"Hank wants to help the Harvey storm victims. How do you think is the best way to do that?"

Brennan laid down the towel she'd just folded and walked over to the pair, kissing them both.

The Jeffersonian Division of Amphibians and Reptiles is sending a crew of interns to Houston to assist with capturing and identifying snakes and alligators roaming the flooded areas this weekend. They are driving a truck of equipment down, and the extra space will be filled with donated supplies for the victims. Water, shelf-stable food, blankets. General Henderson is sending over a pallet of MRE's as well."

"Hank, I'm very proud of you wanting to help the people in Texas!"

"We gotta, Mommy, they're all wet!"

"Yes we certainly do, little man!"

Hank's parents smiled at one another over his tousled head, remembering similar conversations with Parker and Christine when Hurricanes Ike and Sandy had hit the U.S.