by Mauverneen
A little something different today. I had a post planned, but this happened. The local newspaper runs a column called Local Lit, featuring a different author each week. this week, guess who they picked! Me. So....here is my short story. I do hope you enjoy it. Let me know!
 
  
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
   
    
    
"The Storm"  
     
    By Mauverneen (Maureen) Blevins  
     
    Nobody got what they wanted that sweltering August afternoon.  
     
    Not Ron Johnson who wanted to be at the hospital with his wife when she
    gave birth to their first baby. Not grandma Carlson who just wanted to take
    a late afternoon nap. Not Ben Barney who was just trying to make it to the
    truck stop so he could put gas in his car and catch 40 winks before he fell
    asleep at the wheel. And not Darcee Cummins, whose backpack was getting
    heavier and heavier as she trudged along the side of the road.  
     
    Darcee had had it. She'd stuffed a few belongings in her pack, including
    her favorite pair of high heels, said a silent goodbye to the few
    knickknacks she owned and never looked back. She'd planned it for days,
    thought about it for weeks, and finally reached her limit. Bill had smacked
    her for the last time. She swallowed her pride as she stuffed that
    backpack, determined to get home to her folks who had never liked Bill and
    begged her not to move in with him. Well, they had been right. Why put it
    off any longer? She was ready to face them.  
     
    It was Thursday. She would have a good head start. Bill would work all day
    and then go out and meet the guys for their weekly pool club or whatever
    they called it. She surprised him one evening during a game, thinking it
    might be nice to spend a little time together – or at least in the same
    bar. He was not happy, so after one drink, she left. He cussed a blue
    streak that night after he got home, dragged her out of bed by her hair and
    blamed her for his loss.  
     
    "Cost me twenty five dollars" he screamed as he kicked her.  
     
    It would be at least midnight before he got home. She smiled to herself.
    Wasn't he in for a surprise when he found out she wasn't there.  
     
    The backpack was not only heavy, it was hot. Her back was drenched. She was
    thankful she'd had the sense to grab a hat on the way out. But the water
    she'd brought was gone. A few more miles and she knew she could get more at
    the truck stop. She just hoped she'd make it before the storm hit. Of all
    the preparations she had made, she never thought to check the weather and
    those black clouds were rolling in pretty fast.  
     
    Ms Carlson looked out her picture window on the way to her bedroom. She had
    had a busy morning. She had washed some clothes and picked some tomatoes
    and green beans from her garden. At 84, that was enough to make her feel
    tuckered out. She looked forward to her little afternoon naps.  
     
    She stopped at the window, eyeing the storm clouds rolling in. 'I hope it
    don't hail' she thought. It would ruin her garden for sure. She heard
    persistent barking and realized it was her dog, Dusty, outside in his pen.
    She heaved a big sigh and turned back to the kitchen. "Poor mutt"
    she muttered. She figured she'd better get him inside before the rain hit.
    She did not want to have to clean that dog and her floors if he got all
    muddy. She slipped on a worn raincoat that she kept on a hook by the back
    door. The rain could start before she made it back to the house.  
     
    "I'm comin' Dusty," she yelled as she stepped outside. The first
    drops were beginning to fall and the wind was picking up. Dusty's barking
    got more frantic when he saw her.  
     
    Just as she reached his pen, the tornado siren started wailing. She paused
    and looked around.  
     
    "I know baby. I'll be there as soon as I can" Ron Johnson was
    telling his wife Jody over the phone. "Maybe it's another false alarm
    – like last time." He was stuck at the fire station. "They're
    saying the storm could be a bad one. You're safe there at the hospital. I
    promise I will be there as soon as I can." What he didn't tell her was
    just how bad of a storm they were predicting. He could only hope she wasn't
    watching TV. Maybe they wouldn't let them watch TV with tornado warnings
    on. It might give somebody a heart attack.  
     
    He wanted so badly to just up and go. It was their first child. But if a
    tornado did touch down, every fireman and cop in three counties was going
    to be needed. Why today? he asked God.  
     
    The sound of the tornado sirens made him jump.  
     
    Ben Barney jerked his head up. He was beginning to nod off. He had been on
    the road for two days. Now, on his way home, the miles were not going by
    fast enough. He rolled down the windows for some air – damn it was hot out
    there. He turned up the radio hoping to blast himself awake. The music was
    interrupted by "The Illinois weather service has issued a tornado
    watch for the following counties." He rolled the windows back up to
    reduce the road noise. He wanted to know how close he was to the storm. The
    news was not good. It was headed in his direction. He eased the gas pedal
    toward the floor just a little bit more.  
     
    He flipped the wipers on as rain blurred his vision. It grew darker as the
    rain got heavier and he was forced to slow down. Suddenly he could barely
    see. The wind was whipping the trees wildly, and something white blew
    across the road.  
     
    He was already past what he figured was a hitchhiker before he even
    realized there was anyone out there. "Jeez" he shouted, thinking
    he could have hit him. 'Poor schmuck – out in this.' He slammed on his
    brakes and pulled onto the shoulder, lowering the window as the hitchhiker
    reached his car.  
     
    "Get in!" he yelled.  
     
    It took a few moments for the hitchhiker to peel off his backpack and throw
    it into the back seat before jumping into the front.  
     
    "Thanks mister" Darcee said, pulling off her wet hat and dropping
    it to the floor. "I can’t believe this! I had no idea this storm was
    coming."  
     
    Ben was staring. He had really thought it was a guy - with the rain, and
    her wearing a hat... He wondered if that was a smudge on her face – or a
    bruise.  
     
    He slowly pulled back onto the road.  
     
    "I don't usually pick up hitchhikers but the rain was so bad…" He
    didn't want her thinking he was some kind of weirdo, or out to harm her.  
     
    "Well, thanks for stopping. I wasn't hitching. Just got caught in the
    rain. There's a truck stop up the road aways. You can let me out there. I
    appreciate it. "  
     
    Ben nodded. "Actually, I was headed there myself."  
     
    She looked over at him. He did not look familiar.  
     
    "You from around here?" she asked.  
     
    "No. I just travel this way pretty regularly. Work."  
     
    She wondered if she should ask what kind of work he did, just to be polite.
     
     
    "There it is" she said, pointing out the windshield at the truck
    stop.  
     
    Ben felt his shoulders relax. What a relief it was going to be to get out
    of this car and stretch his legs. He planned on waiting out the worst of
    this storm inside. Maybe grab a snack. At least there would be coffee.  
     
    Just as they pulled up the ramp to the station they heard the sirens.  
     
    The tornado struck with all the force mother nature could muster. It
    uprooted trees, blew cars off the road and leveled houses - including
    grandma Carlson's. Ms Carlson, with her hand on Dusty's collar, about to
    turn him loose to high tail it into the house, looked up and saw the funnel
    cloud. She saw the roof of her house fly off. She did not see her mattress
    sucked up into the ugly gray vortex. Nor did she see the walls of her home
    fly apart, leaving her little bathroom sink and commode standing naked in
    the rain. She did not see it because once she saw that funnel cloud, she
    wriggled her upper half into Dusty's dog house, dragging Dusty in with her.
    She was thankful Dusty was a big dog.  
     
    The tornado ripped the roof off the truck stop, mangled it and dropped it
    back down in the middle of the highway. Ben Barney and Darcee Cummins could
    do nothing but scream as the force of the wind spun his car around and then
    sent it skidding across the lot, slamming it into the side of the truck
    stop. Ben's head hit the side window so hard, the glass cracked. Darcee
    broke every one of her fingernails, she gripped the dashboard so hard. She
    also felt several ribs crack against the seat belt as the car rammed into
    the building.  
     
    Once the car stopped, their voices quieted. The noise of the wind and the
    rain pelting the roof actually sounded soothing. Both conscious, they
    looked at one another.  
     
    "We're alive" whispered Ben. "We're alive."  
     
    Some people appeared outside the car, prying the doors open, asking if they
    were all right.  
     
    Darcee began sobbing.  
     
    Ron Johnson and his fire crew worked through the day and most of the night.
    Someone reported the truck stop had been hit and trucks were sent there in
    the event there was a fire. Thankfully there was none. There were other
    fires though. And people to be rescued. Several people had been injured at
    the truck stop and there was even one report of a woman being pulled out of
    a dog house.  
     
    Ron's wife Jody spent the night in the hospital due to the storm. Her labor
    pains came and went, and when her husband finally walked into her room, she
    burst into tears.  
     
    Back in town, a pool tournament was being played in a bar. The reports of
    the tornado that touched down not far from where they were had everybody
    talking. The rain was letting up some and a guy named Bill hoped out loud
    that his girlfriend had enough sense to close the windows.  
     
    Visit Maureenblevins.blogspot.com and MauveOnTheMove.com.  
     
    KNOW MORE  
     
    Each week LocalLit will deliver an original short and family-friendly story
    by a local author – or a review of a book written by a local author – to
    the newsletter's subscribers.  
     
    Authors with a connection to our readership area may submit. Submission does
    not guarantee acceptance. Stories should be edited and between 1,000 words
    and 7,500 words.  
     
    Featured authors will be spotlighted in publications before the newsletter
    runs so readers have time to sign up.  
     
    To submit a story or book for review, contact Denise M. Baran-Unland at
    815-280-4122 ordunland@shawmedia.com.
    To sign up for the newsletter and read Blevins' story on Tuesday, visittheherald-news.com/newsletter/locallit/#//.  
     
     
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Joliet Herald-News 2175 Oneida St.,
        Joliet, IL 60435 
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