The Gathering Storm

“The Silent Storm”

         The sky looked dark and threatening, as if it were ready to unleash an assault.  The wind had picked up in the past several minutes, and there were flashes of lightning on the horizon.  The news had said the storm was going to be a rough one.
         Jack Allen sat on a four-wheeler, looking down the hilltop at the herd of cattle grazing at the base of the hill.  He kept eying the approaching storm, debating if he should head in yet.  He could smell the change in the ozone, as well as a fresh cow patty he had stepped in, reminding him of the showers in April even though it was near the end of June.  He had come down to this field to check on one of the cows that was due to give birth.  Jack’s dad had told him if the cow had already calved to leave them be, but if she hadn’t to go ahead and bring her in out of the storm.  Jack had lucked out because the cow had already calved and he wouldn’t have to mess with her. 
         A flash of lightning on the horizon brought Jack out of his thoughts.  With one last look down at the cattle, Jack kick-started the four-wheeler and raced down the hill.  He started to speed up so he would be able to ramp the dirt mound at the bottom.  One of the few things Jack could do to really have fun was to go out riding.  It was one of those rare times he was completely alone and could just let go.  As he hit the dirt mound and went airborne, Jack felt completely at peace.
         By the time he hit the ground Jack was debating about staying out in the storm and just riding for a couple of hours, but he knew if he did his parents would yell at him for not finishing up all of the chores.  It wouldn’t matter that he had two older brothers who were still living at home.  Granted they both had outside jobs, but it was Saturday and they both had had the day off.  Jack didn’t see how they got out of doing any chores since neither one of them paid rent.  Jack’s parents didn’t pay him to work, which left him feeling like he should just get a job so he would be able to have it easy.  Of coarse it wouldn’t work that way.  His parents would still expect him to do all of the chores he did right now. 
         Jack had just graduated from high school a month prior and was looking forward to going off to college so he would be able to do something with his life besides being a farmer.  He had long-since come to the conclusion if he remained on the farm he would never have a life that meant anything.  Jack knew he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life on a farm. 
         Although he had only been an average student in school, Jack had developed an amazing writing ability.  He had three essays that had been printed in the local newspaper, and even a short story that had been published.  He had gotten a scholarship because of the story, which was a blessing for him because his parents wouldn’t have paid for him to go to college. 
         Once he was out of the field, Jack rode his four-wheeler into the barn and parked it.  As he climbed off, he heard the first raindrops falling on the tin roof.  Walking to the door, Jack remembered his mom had told him to bring some eggs in when he got done with the cattle.  Jack turned around and walked back to the chicken coop. 
         The chicken coop was in the back corner, with a small fence keeping the chickens from getting out.  Jack had built it back in the spring because the old one needed to be replaced because his oldest brother Jim had backed a tractor into it.  Jack opened the door and stepped into the inner part of the coop.  There was also an outside part that had a lot more room and still kept the chickens fenced in.  Along the wall there was a box the chickens used to lay their eggs in.  It stood about three feet high and had two rows of roosts. 
         Once he got into the coop, Jack was hit with the strong stench of chicken shit.  It was almost unbearable.  The coop was past due to be shoveled out again, which was something else to be added to the lists of endless chores Jack had to keep up with. 
         Inside the roosts Jack found there were no eggs.  He figured his mom had gotten tired of waiting and had come out to get them herself.  This wasn’t a good thing.  He knew she would be mad at him for making her wait.  His parents were always telling him he was slacking on his chores because he wouldn’t stop daydreaming.  He would probably be yelled at for not cleaning out the chicken coop any sooner.  Sighing to himself, Jack stepped out of the chicken coop and headed out of the barn. 
         Outside, the rain was still pretty light, but the wind was picking up even more.  Jack knew they were in for a rough storm.  He could see both of his brothers sitting up on the back porch.  Jim was leaned back in the porch swing with a beer in his hand.  The middle brother, Jason, was pointing down at the barbecue pit and saying something Jack couldn’t make out from where he was at.  Jack figured they were bitching about the weather because they had been planning a party and were going to barbecue.  With the storm coming in it was doubtful anybody would show up.
         Jack was actually glad because he didn’t like any of his brothers’ friends.  The last time they had had a barbecue, Jack managed to piss off the whole family.  It was back in the spring, when Jack had come in late from disking a field.  It was about 8:00 PM and he was pretty worn out from being on a tractor all day.  Jack stopped on the back porch to check out the party.  After he ate a quick meal, Jack went over to the cooler to get a beer.  Luckily for him, his parents didn’t mind him drinking as long as he didn’t go anywhere once he started. 
         As he was digging around inside the cooler for what he wanted, somebody kicked the lid down on his hand.  Looking up, Jack saw it was Jim’s friend Andrew.  Unfortunately, Andrew was not somebody Jack wanted to see.  As far was he was concerned, Andrew was nothing more than an asshole.  He was one of those kids whose parents had plenty of money, so he never had anything to worry about.  Add that to his boyish appearance and you had somebody who would have an easy trip through life.
         “Beer’s not for pussies,” Andrew said with a smirk that betrayed that boyish appearance.
         Jack looked up at him with cold, smoldering eyes.  He wanted to hit Andrew, but he knew if he did his parents would flip out.  Thinking better of it, Jack decided he couldn’t just let it go.
         “Then what does it make you since you’re drinking a light beer?” Jack said.
         “More of a man than you could ever hope to be,” Andrew said. 
         “This coming from the guy who pissed himself at the last barbecue,” Jack said.
         “I drank a lot that night,” Andrew said, “and Jim hit me in the stomach with a basketball.”
         “Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night,” Jack said.  Before Andrew could say anything else, Jack grabbed a beer and walked off.  He hoped it would be the last time he had to speak to Andrew tonight.  Jack decided it would be best if he went out onto the front porch and eat by himself.  There wasn’t anybody there he wanted to talk to anyway. 
         Jack had only taken two bites of his burger when the screen door scraped open and Andrew stepped out.  Jack made a mental note to tighten up the hinges on the door so it wouldn’t scrape every time it opened.  Jack looked away, hoping Andrew wouldn’t stay outside.  Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.
         “Aw, are you hiding?” Andrew said.  “Don’t like being picked on.”
         “Andrew,” Jack said, “I’m going to give you some really good advice, and I highly recommend you take it.  I’ve had a long day and I’m not in a good mood.  You’re about to piss me off and you really don’t want to do that right now.”
         Andrew must have not liked hearing that because he walked over and leaned in close to Jack’s face.  “I don’t know who you think you are,” Andrew said, “but if you talk to me like that again I’ll bitch-slap you.” 
         Jack’s only response was to look up at Andrew with a smirk.  He had never really been in a fight, but he knew he wouldn’t back down from anybody who talked to him like that.  Especially Andrew.  Jack began to say something back, but before he could Andrew splashed him in the face with his beer. 
         Before Andrew could even lean back Jack burst out of his chair and drove right into Andrew, causing them to both go over the porch railing.  On the ground, Jack came up straddling on top of Andrew.  Sitting in such a positive control position, Jack began to punch Andrew right in the face.  . 
         Jim had been looking out the window when Jack jumped at Andrew and he ran outside in time to keep Jack from doing any more damage to Andrew.  Jason was right on his tail, which was good as it took both of them to drag Jack off of Andrew.
         The night ended with Jack’s mom having to take Andrew to the hospital.  Andrew had a broken and a sprained wrist.  And Jack had to listen to his mom yell at him for fighting; she wouldn’t even listen to him when he tried to tell her about Andrew provoking him.   
         The memory of the first time he had seen Andrew after the fight brought a smile to Jack’s face.  Andrew had his nose bandaged up and his voice had a strong nasal sound to it.  It had been worth getting grounded for a month.  Andrew wouldn’t even look at him now. 
         Jack decided it would be best if he went in the front door so he wouldn’t have to talk to his brothers.  He had almost made it around the side of the house when Jim saw him.
         “Where do you think you’re going?” Jim said as he got up and leaned over the banister.  His beer gut was just protruding out from under the bottom of his shirt.  Jason was still standing over by the grill.
         Jack stopped and looked at his brother.  “Why do you want to know?  You writing a book?”  His smart mouth was the other thing his parents yelled at him about.  Jack knew that one day it would get him into serious trouble.
         “You know you can’t come out to the barbecue,” Jim said.  “And Dad’s expecting you to help him get the end-loader put back on the tractor.”
         “Aw, are you scared I’ll beat up your girlfriend again?” Jack said.  Before Jim could respond Jack turned and headed toward the front door. 
         Jack tried to open the door quietly so his mom wouldn’t hear, but the bottom of the screen door snagged the porch floor.  Jack could have kicked himself for not having fixed the door yet.  Jack had to jerk the door, which made it rattle as it came loose.  Thinking maybe his mom didn’t hear Jack started for the stairs. 
         “What took you so long?” Jack’s mom asked with an accusing tone.  Jack had almost put his foot down on the first step.  He looked over and saw his mom standing in the hallway to the kitchen.  She looked like the average farm wife in her flower-print dress and her hair pulled up, but the frown on her face was enough to make Jack cringe.  He knew he was going to be told about how he screwed up. 
         “I had to go all the way down to the creek to find the cattle,” Jack answered.  “And once I had found the herd, I couldn’t find that cow that was going to calve.  She had gotten separated and was down in the woods by the pond.  She’s there with three others.  I think she had the calf last night.”
         “Well, you took too long anyway,” mom responded.  “I had to send Jim out to get my eggs.”
         “So,” Jack said, “he’s been sitting on the back porch with his thumb up his ass since I left.  He needed the exercise.”
         “Well, the point is that I asked you to get them when you got back,” mom said.
         “I would have, but I just got back two minutes ago,” Jack said. 
         “It doesn’t matter now,” mom said.  “Your dad still needs you to help him work on the tractor.  He’ll be back in about half an hour.”
         “Well, I’ll be up in my room until then,” Jack said.
         “Good,” mom began, “because you need to think about how you need to watch your mouth.”
         Up in his room, Jack sat down at his computer desk and stared out the window at the storm.  It was already here.  He hoped it would be bad enough that his dad wouldn’t want to mess with the tractor tonight.  Jack wanted the night to himself.  He wanted to sit and watch the storm rage.  He knew he had a storm inside of him that was raging too.  It was a silent storm, but it was raging almost uncontrollably to get him off of this farm and into the real world.  He just couldn’t wait until he got to experience a life different from his own. 
         Jack wondered if his family knew what was going on in his mind.  If only his family knew what was in the upstairs bedroom.  They would probably be scared of him, fearing his wrath.  They would never understand him.  Jack didn’t think anybody would ever understand him.   
         Jack moved the mouse on his computer so the screen-saver would turn off.  He opened the file for the story he had been working on.  It was going to be a novel, or at least Jack hoped it would be.  He had been working on it for over a year, but mostly it was just writing down ideas he had and piecing them together.
         He wondered what people would think if they ever read it.  Would they ever realize the story was a metaphor for his life?  The main character of his story was a young man who was a loner and didn’t really get along with anyone.  He didn’t have any close friends because he didn’t trust anybody that much.  He wasn’t really close to his family, even though they seemed to be the main antagonists in his story. 
         And the one thing that would really get everyone’s attention was his character was going to give up and commit suicide.  What would his family think of that?  Would they see it as a cry for help?  It wasn’t, as far as Jack was concerned.  He wasn’t the type of person to do that.  Not because of any religious belief or for fear, but because Jack was too stubborn to ever give up on life.  He just wondered what it would be like to go through with it.  And since he wouldn’t do it himself, why not do it to his main character.   
         This story was Jack’s best chance at being able to do something with his life.  He had been dreaming of being published for a long time, but he had never thought it possible.  Then, when his short-story had actually made it into print, Jack started to believe he would see his dream come true.  Unfortunately, his parents kept telling him he wouldn’t be able to make a living writing, and had told him that his best bet was to stay on the farm. 
         His dad had been okay with the idea of Jack going to college, at first, but that was because he had wanted Jack to get a Forestry degree so he could become a game warden.  Jack had told him he didn’t want to be a game warden.  “Have you ever seen a hungry game warden,” Jack’s dad had asked.  That was the point when Jack began to think his dad had brain damage. 
         After about an hour, the storm began to calm, but the rain was still coming down in sheets.  Jack had made little progress on his story, but he had patience with it.  He had been working on a new idea, but he was stuck on it.  He was beginning to immerse himself in the world he had created.  He couldn’t wait until he got off of the farm.  It was a daily struggle to deal with his family.  The storm had been raging for the better part of an hour, but it wasn’t anything compared to the silent one raging inside of Jack. 
         Looking out at the rain, Jack began to lose himself into his story.  He had the habit of seeing himself as the character in his story, and he would play out the events in his mind.  When he did this, he would almost be in a trance.  It was when he was like this that he could completely relax. 
         He was completely lost in his thoughts when his door opened and his mom barged in.  The sudden noise made him nearly jump out of his chair in surprise.  When his mom realized that he was working on his writing again, she gave him a look of disapproval.  “Your dad is waiting for you in the barn,” she said.  “He wants to get the tractor ready.”  With her bad news delivered, she turned on her heel and left the room. 
         Jack sat there for a minute, feeling the serenity he had managed to find seeping out of him.  He had lost his train of thought.  He got up and headed to the door.  He had his head down, feeling the full weight of his oppression.
         Jack headed down the steps slowly as if he were a prisoner being led to his execution.  At the bottom of the steps he turned and headed to the kitchen.  He stopped at the refrigerator to grab a soda to take out to the barn.
         “While you’re over there,” Mom began, “you might as well grab your dad a beer.” 
         Jack shook his head as he grabbed a beer, knowing he would rather not have to listen to another one of his dad’s drunken rants.  Sometimes Jack could deal with his dad when they had something to do because his dad usually was all business during the day.  But once it got later in the evening, his dad began to drink, and once he started drinking he would be opinionated.  And that was one thing that Jack didn’t want to deal with.  Looking out the window, he could see the rain had slackened. 
         Out on the back porch, Jim was sitting in the swing.  He had a beer in his hand, and appeared to be well on his way to getting intoxicated.  “It’s about time you got back to work,” Jim said, “Dad pulled the tractor into the shed about ten minutes ago.”
         “Bite me,” Jack said.  He really wanted to shove Jim’s beer down his throat.  Instead he headed down the steps.
         “You know,” Jim said, “you make a really good farm bitch.” 
         Jack turned around and looked at him for a minute, trying to think of something to say.  For the first time in a long time Jack couldn’t think of anything to say.  Instead, he turned again and headed towards the shed. 
         The shed stood across from the barn.  It was a complete contrast of the barn in just about every way.  The barn looked like one of those you would see in a children’s book, with its red walls and black roof, with a weather vane in the center of the roof.  It was also nearly 100 years old and had been repainted several times.  The shed, on the other hand, was only about four years old and was tin roofed and sided.  The only thing the two buildings had in common was the color. 
         Jack walked up to the side door of the shed and stopped.  He stared at the knob, knowing once he turned it, he would be opening a door to another dimension.  A dimension where common sense didn’t belong.  One where he would have to listen to the ranting of a lunatic.           Jack looked back over his shoulder at the house.  He could still make out his brothers on the back porch, Jason over by the grill and Jim on the swing, looking like a waste of human life.  Jack felt disgust towards his brothers, because they both didn’t have to do any of the farm chores as well as because there was some unspoken respect between them and their parents.  Jack knew the same respect didn’t exist between his parents and him. 
         Overhead, Jack could see the dark clouds blowing by at a fast pace.  He knew the lull the storm had given them was going to be over soon.  He just wondered if the storm would get any worse than before. 
         Sighing to himself, Jack opened the door and stepped into the shed.  Inside, he saw the tractor parked in the center of the shed with the end-loader in front of it.  His dad was standing over by the bench.  There was an impact wrench sitting on the bench top, and his dad was digging through a drawer for what Jack assumed were sockets. 
         Walking up to his dad, Jack saw that his hands and arms were covered in grease, as well as half of his clothes.  He had a cigarette in his mouth with a lot of ash hanging off the end and his glasses had fallen to the tip of his nose.  Jack reached out and set the beer on the bench in front of his dad. 
         “It’s about time you got out here,” Dad said.  “We’ve got a lot of work to do.” 
         “I didn’t know that you had come in yet,” Jack said.  “Mom just came up and got me a couple of minutes ago.”
         “What, were you in your room?” Dad said. 
         “Just while I was waiting for you to get home,” Jack said. 
         “Up there on that damn computer again, huh?” Dad said.  “I may end up selling it if you can’t keep up with your chores.”  He opened his beer and took a long drink.
         “I did all of my chores,” Jack said. 
         “You did, huh?” Dad said.  “Well, did you find the cow like I said?”
         “Yeah,” Jack said, “she’s down in the field by the pond.  She already calved.  I’d say last night because he was up and moving a little.”
         “Well,” Dad said, “did you bring them in to the barn?”
         “You told me to leave her down there if she had already calved,” Jack said. 
         “Oh, well I guess she’ll be okay down there,” Dad said.  He finished off his beer and crushed the can.  Jack watched in disappointment as his dad grabbed another beer out of the cooler.  He knew it was just a matter of time before his dad got liquored up and found something else to gripe about. 
         A flash of lightning caught Jack’s attention.  He looked out the window and saw the storm had picked up again.  The rain was really coming down and the wind had picked up even more.  Jack knew that with the weather this bad he would have to wait it out in the shed, which meant he had no escape from his dad. 
         Jack walked over to the tractor and started aligning the end-loader arms with the mounts on the tractor.  His dad brought the impact wrench over and they began the long process of attaching the bucket to the tractor.  Most of the work was done in silence, except with the occasional comment about the work they were doing. 
         Jack spent the whole time just waiting for his dad to say something to him.  He would not let it stand.  He was already fuming about the remark his dad made about selling the computer.  Jack wondered if he would make it to the fall when he would be able to go to school.  Once he got there, things would be better.  He would be in a new place where people would help him with his writing, not try to stop him.
         Jack’s dad was on his fifth beer by the time they finished the tractor.  Jack began putting up the tools while his dad lit another cigarette.  When Jack finished putting the tools up, he walked over and opened the door to the shed.  He stood there for a few minutes looking out at the storm. 
         “Rough storm,” Dad said as he walked up behind Jack. 
         Jack only nodded as he looked back out at the storm.  He could only hope his dad wasn’t in the mood to talk. 
         On the back porch, Jack could see his brothers standing over the grill.  One of them (he couldn’t tell which) was waving his hand around the grill and saying something.  He started to lean over the grill, still waving his hand, and leaned too far and fell over the grill.
         “I don’t think those two will ever move out of this house,” Dad said.  “I’m going to have to put up with them forever.”
         Jack sat there in silence, somewhat amazed to hear his dad criticize his brothers.  He had began to believe that they could do no wrong as far as his father was concerned. 
         “You know,” Dad said, “I’ve been thinking.  I know that I’ve been givin’ you a hard time about school and all.  You really want to be a writer, huh?”
         Jack responded with a simple nod.  He was a little confused as to what his dad was getting at.  His only thought was that maybe his dad had come up with a new plan of attack in trying to convince Jack to give up his dream.
         “Well,” Dad said, “I’ve been giving it a lot of thought here lately.  I’ve read everything you had in the newspaper, and I thought it was pretty good.  I think you may be pretty good at that stuff.”  He paused for a minute to take a drink.  “And there’s no chance you’d want to be a game warden, is there?”
         Jack shook his head no.  He was taken aback by this conversation.  His dad had never really said anything like this to him.  It was something new to him that was leaving him speechless. 
         “If it’s what you want to do,” Dad said, “then go for it.  I’m not going to try to stop you anymore.  I just want you to do what you want.”  Dad held out a hand, which Jack reached for and shook.
         Jack, for the first time in a long time, realized that he wasn’t on edge around his dad.  He didn’t feel like he had to defend a decision he had made.  They stood there in silence, watching the storm.  It had lessened considerably in the last few minutes.