Mother Nature

Western World #49

Storm warnings blared from the television for the past two hours. Every time that incessant alarm went off, Sally cringed. The rain hadn't stopped for most of the day. From a pleasant summer sprinkle to a massive downpour and back again. It was hard to tell what would happen next.

Flood watches turned into warnings, the same with tornado activity. The enormous storm system spanned four states. When the warning came across the screen that the Rouge River would crest within the hour, Sally knew her basement would flood. The river was less than half a mile from her house. She crossed it every day to and from work.

With the storm closing in, Sally hurried to the basement, her mind racing with the impending disaster. She frantically moved boxes off the floor, desperate to salvage as much as possible before the floodwaters arrived. For the next half an hour, she worked tirelessly, sliding furniture away from the drains and stacking cardboard boxes on top of tables and the bar top.

Hearing the pinging from the television she left upstairs, she raced up a flight of stairs to see what the latest report would say. Arial footage from tornadic activity filled the screen. Demolished houses, cars in trees or overturned, people milling about crying, lucky to be alive. Her heart clenched in sympathy, praying she wouldn't be next, but knowing mother nature was unpredictable.

Lighting crackled across the inky sky as thunder rumbled and shook the window. Sally moved to the front window, watching in awe as the storm raged. Lightning continued in a fractured state across the sky, streaking from here to there, as far as she could see. Electricity flickered from the next boom of thunder.

Sally rushed to gather candles and flashlights, setting them all on the dining room table for easy access. And that's when she heard it. Faint at first, but unmistakable, that sound of rushing water. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she was about to see.

Standing on the landing, she looked into the basement, watching water spread across the brown and red tiles. There was nothing to do now but wait. Wait for the storm to pass. Wait for the torrential downpour to stop, and hope that the damage to come wouldn't be too bad. Sally spent the next few hours watching the newscast and the water rise, up the first step and then the second. She saw a chair floating across the basement when she ventured down the steps, unable to wait any longer. Every visit to the flooding in her home brought more bad news and her heart ached each time she saw her possessions in a precarious state.

Back at the window, a cold shiver ran down her spine as cars attempted to drive down the flooded street, only to stall out and ruin their engines.

“Tomorrow this will be all over the news,” she muttered.

Well, after midnight, the pouring rains decreased to slow and steady. There was nothing she could do until morning. The water would never recede at this rate until Mother Nature moved on somewhere else.

Sally spent a rough night tossing and turning, watching the clock, and just waiting for daylight to come. At the break of dawn, she heard neighbors already outside, surveying the damage. She exited the bed, pulled on sweatpants, and began her inspection. First the basement, and then she would go outside and see if anything needed her immediate attention there.

Creeping down the stairs, she noticed the sludge on the floor first, the water did in fact recede from the previous night, but it was still ankle-deep now. All of the wood furniture she had there would be trash, the same as the extra chairs that had been overturned and were now upside down, scattered about.

She still had to wait or find a pump to pump the rest of the water out to the street. Her house drains could be an issue.

Back upstairs, she opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. It was already muggy; the sun was rising, and people mingled about. The most disturbing thing she saw was the pile-up of vehicles at the end of the street. It looked like a bulldozer had swept them up and shoved them every which way and on top of one another. It was a disaster.

Before she could move off the porch and join the others, a news crew arrived on the scene.

“Why am I not surprised at that?


WC: 764