Storm

Word Count: 934 words



“I know, Mom, I saw the warning on TV.  Big deal.  Besides, I love storms.”  I gingerly switched the phone to my other ear, trying to keep the dish suds off of it.

“This one's supposed to be serious, it's a tornado WARNING, not a watch.  And the wind already knocked over my next-door neighbor's tree ten minutes ago!"

“See?  That was probably the worst of it.  It'll clear up now.  I've gotta go, I want to finish cleaning the kitchen.  It actually DOES look like a tornado hit it.

“No, the wind's just getting worse.  Promise me you'll go in the basement.”

I groaned, “C'mon, Mom.  I have a million things to do.  I don't have time to waste freezing my butt off in my dusty, musty, basement.  Besides, there's those awful thousand-legger-bug things down there.”

“Promise me.”

“I'll think about it, talk to you tomorrow, okay?.”

“PROMISE me.” 

“Mo-ommm....” She knew I had a pathological inability to lie.

“This is serious.  Why can't you ever just listen to your mother?  Do you think I'm so stupid?  (Uh-oh, she was going to play the guilt card) “Fine, I'm coming over.  (Oh, THAT'D make my day) “I'll drive across town....” (She lived on the same street, two blocks away)  “...in this terrible storm....be there soon, if I don't wreck.  Try not to feel too terrible if I do, don't let it ruin the rest of your life or anything....I hope you won't let it completely destroy you when I'm gone...” (Sure, it would SO destroy me; no nagging!)  “Fine.....”  She heaved a sigh so enormous it was amazing she didn't burst a lung.

And as usual, it worked.

“Good grief, Mom!  Alright, alright!  I'll go down for ONE hour, but that's it!”  I huffed testily. “So let me off this darn thing so I can at least find a book to take down!”

“Okay,” she replied sweetly, having gotten her own way.  “And honey?”

“Whaaat?!”

“I love you.”

“Mom, it's just a storm.  I love you too, but please don't get all melodramatic on me.  See you tomorrow.” I slammed down the phone a little harder than necessary.

I found my book and set my watch for an hour.  I promised, so I'd go down, but for exactly sixty minutes and not a SECOND more.  I descended the steps and walked over to a beat-up bean bag I'd been meaning to pitch.  It looked dusty and ancient.  I glanced at the floor.  It was worse.  Was that MOLD?  I'd take my chances with the bean bag.  I plunked my butt down and settled back with my book.

I'd never really worried about natural disasters.  We were too far from the coast for hurricanes, too high for floods.  I adored thunderstorms, something about the energy in the air.  Sure, there'd been that tornado when I was little, up near our family camp in the country.  But we'd heard it was coming in plenty of time and made it home with an hour to spare.  If anything, it added a little zing to my day to tell everyone what “danger” we'd been in.

What soon followed was an unreal nightmare.  Suddenly, storms didn't seem so wonderful anymore.  The house rumbled and banged.  Could the wind really make a sound like that, or was someone screaming? I can't possibly describe what it was like, so I won't try.

After awhile I realized that the roaring was coming from my own ears.  The outer noise had subsided.  I gathered my shaking limbs and crept up the stairs.  Well, the house was still standing.  Look, all that noise and the windows weren't even broken.  I smirked at my own wimpiness, and reached for the phone to call Mom.  I bet she was having a coronary.

My eyes fell on the window as I reached for the phone.  I froze.

My neighbor's house.  It was....missing.  I couldn't yet associate that pile of crumpled matchsticks with the stately white Victorian that had always been the view out of my east window.

I looked toward the front door, but my legs weren't working.  I took a couple of frantic, panicked breaths, and managed to drag myself over and open the door.

I was surrounded by.....nothing.  I thought briefly of The Wizard of Oz.  Could my house have been transported somewhere? My bewildered eyes looked for singing little people.  Shocked as it was, my brain rejected this.  After all, I'd been in the basement.

The tornado.  It did this?  I couldn't see a house standing anywhere...except mine.  Even the trees were missing or fallen.  It looked like the whole town was flattened

The whole town.  I looked in the direction of Mom's house, but all I saw was debris and firewood.  I tried to run, but it wasn't really possible.  I began moving in the direction of her house, picking my way around and over what used to be our street.

It felt like it took a lifetime to travel the two blocks, but probably was only ten minutes or so.  I probably would have missed it, if it wasn't for the mosaic tile sidewalk she had in front of her house.  A bit of it was visible.  Behind it, where the house had been, was a pile of rubble.  I screamed, but there was no response.  Maybe she was okay...I could dig her out....I collapsed on the ground, knowing the truth.

I hope you won't let it completely destroy you when I'm gone..... Her words echoed in my head.