The Storm

(lunch time, MC and Claudia at the back of one of the baseball fields, talking)





Clouds seemed to whirl around, like a tailspin in the sky, clouds gathering on top of each other. Lightning streaked across the striations of dark grey, blinding my vision, if only for a second. I looked up. The clouds seemed to boil underneath, as if liquified by the constant streaks of violent light.





The wind manifested itself in trash being strewn through the air, mixed with leaves and bits of trash. Branches on the nearby trees whipped about, pulling as far as they could to one side before being forced violently the other diretion. Leaves and small twigs feel at every whip, adding to the airborne debris. Tree trunks seemed to threaten to leave the ground, as if desire alone kept them rooted and out of the air. Their determination to stay dominating the desire to give in to the storm's fury.





It wasn't rain that first fell from the clouds, but marble-sized hail. It pelted at my face, being driven by the wind. We began rushing towards the nearest school building which was still a few hundred yards away.





I shielded my face with my hands, and was relieved to see that Claudia was doing the same. The only shelter nearby was a dugout at one of the baseball fields, about 50 yards away. I tried to yell above the noise of the wind, "Let's try over there," pointing towards the dugout. She nodded. I grabbed her hand and we started to run. Just as we were half way there, a large branch, or maybe it was a small tree, I couldn' t tell, flew in from the side and and plowed into the corrugated metal roof of the dugout. The impact was enough to cave in the roof and send small bits of debris flying around.





Stopped in our tracks, we looked at each other, knowing that we had to try and make it all the way to the school in order to be safe. In the distance I heard the tornado siren begin to sound. The wail of the siren became higher and higher pitched, before finally dropping back down, only to repeat itself. I had heard the sirens many times before, but never in a situation like this. I wasn't so much scared for myself as I was for Claudia. Hail pelted at us as we began the deparate race towards the school. Everyone else was inside, probably doing the tornado drill routine. I always hated the drills- what a waste of time. We haven't had a tornado hit the area around the school for decades, what are the odds that it would happen while I was there? Now I wished that I was participating in the stupid ritual.





The wind and hail continued, relentlessly pulling at us, as if trying to bring us away from the safety that lay ahead. The hair on my arms began to stand up and I could feel the electricity in the air.





The watch on my wrist began to give an odd, humming that reverberated throughout my entire body. Then, without warning, lighting began striking all around us, some strikes as close as fifty feet away! A tree across the field, close to where we were sitting not minutes before, exploded into charred shards of wood. The deafening claps of thunder made my ears felt like they were going to explode and I could see Claudia trying in vain to cover hers as I held her hand and we ran.





In rapid succession, the lightning strikes became blinding to our vision. Streaks of green and purple blurred across my sight. Then, in front of us again, not more than forty feet, a lightning strike sent up clots of dirt, smoking despite the wind and hail, thudding all around us. Strikes came on all sides of us, seemingly corralling us in the middle of an open field.





I looked up and saw the clouds spiraling overhead. Like a tankful of clouds being flushed down a drain, the spiral came down ever closer to us. All around, lights flashed, claps of thunder deafened my ears and hail threatened to leave me bruised and battered. With nowhere to run, I wrapped myself around Claudia, trying my best to shield her from the hail and airborne debris. We dropped to the ground, knowing that it would be safer with the lighning and threatening tornado above us.





The humming of my watch grew louder. The clouds swirled in an amazing display of beauty and terror. Lightning continued crashing between us and the school. I knew this was not natural. I knew that this was more than a coincidence or an ominous sign. Suddenly I felt a pull at my body. A pull from above. Through the clouds I could almost make out what appeared to be something flying just beyond sight of the clouds. It was directly above us. Then, the clouds opened, a funnel right above us marking the climax of the swirling we had noticed. There was something in the clouds.





But as I tried to focus on it, a branch came flying across the field. I braced myself, knowing that is was headed straight for me. The branch hit me across the back, knocking the wind out of me. My back burned, feeling broken, as the branch continued its way across the field. Everything went black as I tried to fight through the pain and remain conscious. I blinked hard a few times. Then I noticed that Claudia was not next to me. I forced my eyes open, looking through the lightning and stars that seemed to now be a permanent part of my vision. In panic I called out her name but the wind whisked it away like a fly in a hurricane. I turned my head, still lying on the ground, to try and locate her. As I did, I saw her, not on the ground, but rather lifting off of the ground. She was rising slowly, now about three feet and rising.





My watch hummed convulsively. I jumped up, grabbing Claudia as her screams were drowned out by claps of thunder. She held tightly to me, tears of fear streaming down her face. She slowly continued her ascent upwards depsite my every effort. I wondered for a biref second if anyone from the school could see what was happening and help, or at least be a witness.





She was now six feet from the ground, her body ascening parallel to the ground. Her arm astretched down as mine stretched up. We held forearms. Grips slowly slipped until our wrists were all that were held. Finally after what seemed like an eternity but which was probably only seconds, her hand slipped past the ring on my finger.



Suddenly, her body seemed to convulse and she fell from her ascent. It caught me so off guard that I could not catch her- we both fell- me cushioning her fall. the lightning retreated and the wind seemed to lose speed. Claudia coughed and sputtered from the landing, then rolled onto the ground. I tried to get the wind back in my lungs, the pain in my back reminding me of the branch that hit me moments before. Was it only moments ago? I couldn't tell anymore. I looked up in time to see the object that was in the sky pull away along with the torrent of clouds.

We laid there for a second, trying to think straight. I looked over at Claudia, asking if she was all right.

"I think so," she said slowly. After a few deep breaths she inquired with wide eyes, "What just happened?"

"I have no idea." I widened my eyes and looked up and around, blinking hard a few times, trying to get my eyes to refocus. "But I think the ring has something to do with it." The ring had since stopped humming. It was just there on my finger, not doing anything. Somehow the whole event stopped as soon as Claudia touched the ring. Why did the bum give it to me?

I looked down at the watch given to me earlier in the day. The metal, or whatever it was made of, seemed unmarred by time or corrission. It felt old yet appeard new. I looked at the face, blank of all markings.

Meeting with the Bum

The most interesting thing (if you could call it that) about walking to school was passing the old bum. Invariably, he was always there, near the cemetary gates as if standing guard. On this particular day, as many others, our eyes met as I passed by. The sidewalk was maybe twenty feet from where he stood, leaning on the old, rusted wrought iron fence that surrounded the cemetary. He was always in the same place. Sometimes he noticed me, sometimes he didn't. On the occasions he did notice me, there was a bit of a sadness to his countenance- more of like a friend wanting to be reunited. Separation despite proximity. I always tried my best to smile- I was taught to always be polite- but I was sure that it came out looking forced and insincere.


He was not altogether different from most men in the town. He was an average height and build, which for here meant he was almost six feet tall, slender build (probably from not eating), ragged, brown hair that brushed his shoulders. His face, if it wasn't for the unkempt facial hair, would have seemed completely normal. All except for his eyes. His eyes were dark- almost black. But despite their cold appearance, their was a warmth to his expression.

The bum usually just rambled meaningless phrases into the air or spoke as if someone was standing next to him (but there never was). Some of the kids (and a few of their parents too) said that he was like this because he had been kidnapped by aliens. Stories of alien abductions seemed to account for the dozens of missing persons reports that we heard about. Once I overheard my dad talking on the phone to one of his coworkers about someone they worked with being taken during a storm. But I never heard of anyone coming back.

While most kids would cross to the other side of the street or choose to walk a different road, I looked forward to that part of my morning walk to school. But I guess I am just strange like that. Sometimes the bum and I would chat (if he didn't seem too crazy looking), or he would say things to me, something you might read from a fortune cookie. "Beware of storms," or "today you will meet your destiny." Ironically enough, that was that day that I met Claudia. It was back on one of the first days of school. I guess she was in one of my classes, but I didn't really notice her, probably because Ashton Marks spent most of the class trying to shoot spitwads at me while a few of the other kids laughed.





This morning was not too different from the others. When I reached the stretch of road that the bum frequented, I did not see him right away. Then, upon further examination, I noticed him trying to hide behind a small oak tree. His body was visible from both sides of the scrawny tree trunk. He poked his head out from behind, looking right at me, then quickly yanked it back, in his mind, out of sight.





"Good morning." I said as I waved my hand in his direction. He peeked out again, this time with a look of terror on his face. I was taken aback not just by his odd attempt to hide, but by the fear in his eyes. He had always been a very peculiar person, but he always seemed to have some attachment, however weak it may have seemed, to reality.





"Don't let them see you," he said spookily. "They are coming. They are coming." He shook his head as he spoke, almost as if disbelieving the arrival of "them" would prevent it from happening. The shaking did not stop until a while after he finished speaking.





I paused where I was, bored from my walk up to this point. "Who's coming? God?" I asked almost sarcastically. My friend would like that. He was always saying how it was getting to be time for God to come back and rule the earth. I rolled my eyes in my mind just thining about it. But Johnny was a good kid and a great friend. I had nothing against him.





The bum just shook his head and looked up at the sky in amazement and wonder, not sure of whether or not his answer would be overheard by the wrong person.





The sky seemed to be growing darker. Clouds could be seen a few miles away. They seemed to churn and bubble slightly, replicating the instability of the air aorund them. A slight wind tugged at my t-shirt, rippling it a little, but was unable to shake my jeans. A few strands of hair flew out of place. I was sure that it would rain soon. Maybe even storm. That would explain the bum's concern.





You see, there had been stories of these alien abductions for, well, as long as I could remember. People being taken during terrible storms. Always during storms. Most never returned. The level-headed folk explained it away by saying that the "missing people" probably just ran off or got swept away in the flooding. The bum was the only one who claimed to have been abducted and then survived. Or at least returned. I never really had a conversation with him about it- that would be difficult, seeing that his mental state seemed to prevent most rational thought.





But hey, I had a few extra minutes this morning. Why not talk to the crazy?





"Are they coming for you again?" I asked. I smiled, but then felt bad immediately afterwards for mocking him. But my smile remained, a little more hollow. He looked at me, as if wondering how I knew he had been "taken." His eyes shifted around,looking at the sky then around me, then up and down the street.





My smile faded fast as he darted over to me, covering the twnety feet quiker than I thought humanly possible, especially for him. "Not me," he said. then his voice dropped to almost a whisper, "Not this time." Then he looked around again. "But I can feel them coming. Not through the clouds or the sky or the road, but in time, they will be seen." I started to get nervous. I could smell the breath that seemed to ooze out of his mouth in shallow spurts. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see some other kids walking on the other side of the street pointing at me. But there was no laughing this time.





His voice dropped to a whisper, "They will be here. Today."





I was now more intrigued than scared. "How do you know?" My question was simple enough, and was meant as more of a mockery than an inquisition, but the man seemed to argue with demons in his head about whether or not I could be trusted with such great knowledge. His face became pained and every wrinkle on is forehead and around his eyes seemed to shout. His mutterings to himself were not loud enough to be heard and even so, probably could not have been understood.





Then he relaxed completey, and, as if in a trance, he took off his watch. His eyes began to roll into the back of his head. Then, in a second, he had grabbed my hand and pressed his watch into the middle of my palm until the pressure made me wince. His grip around my wrist was hard and unwavering. Then his dark, searching eyes rolled back to meet mine. "Now," he said, "you will know." He let out a long sigh and closed his eyes, dropping my hand away as his body seemed to relax. "And I am free." There was almost a smile on his lips.





I wasn't sure what to do, so I just opened my mouth to thank him, but before I could, he turned away abruptly and walked towards the cemetary, his hair blowing behind him, his arms outstreched and his face looking towards the cloudy heavens, challenging his demons.

On My Way to School- principle's house

As I walked to school that morning, I found it ironic that I had to pass first the principle's home, then the cemetary before finally getting to school. I wasnt sure if this held some sort of strange symbolism, but it was either that or quite a coincidence.



The air outside was heavy with the impending storm approaching. On the way out the door I saw my sister watching the local news. They were saying something about rain and such, but nothing uncommon. In the back of my mind were the claims made about people being abducted by aliens during the storms. I laughed at the idea, knowing that it was crazy; not just alien abduction, but why they would only happen during a storm. If aliens really did have all that tehnology, why would they only use it during weather severe enough to drive a two-by-four through a tree? There were a lot of those rumors that I knew better than to believe.



The wind picked up in small gusts and I could feel the variations in the temperature. I kept walking though. It wasn;t like the tornado sirens would be sounding. At least, not for a few hours. If a tornado did come, maybe I wouldn't have to deal with another day at school. Maybe it would destroy the school. The thought brought a smile to my face as I kicked a pebble out of my way, aiming it at the principle's house coming up.


The principle's home was plain enough. It did nothing to stand out. The large front yard was mostly green grass, spotted with brown patches and weeds. There were a few bushes along the street and then some more tucked up next to the home. The one story home was almost exclusively red brick on the front. A few windows, one to the living room and ane to the kitchen, were on either side of the front door. White eaves hung over the top of the brick walls. A reasonably-sized chimney stuck out on the side of the home where the living room was. The driveway connected the street in the front to the garage, where a weathered wooden door hung.


One lone maple tree stood in the middle of the front yard, about thirty feet from both curb and home. The tree stood tall, maybe forty or fifty feet, offering a small umbrella of protection to the home below its branches. A few strands of toilet paper could be seen near the top, waving like flags of victory for the perpettrators, and symblizing defeat for those who lived within. Rumor had it that some students in the physics department had modified a potato gun enough to shoot toilet paper that high. Unfortunately, the gun was pretty loud and they only had one or two shots before the principle or his wife would come out of their home yelling about calling the police.




Despite its unwelcomed toilet paper decorations, it was a comfortable-looking home, much to my envy. Many times I had imagined my family in that home. Well, my family with my mom; a complete family. We could huddle by the fire at night when it was cold, exchanging wonderful stories of our adventures that day. I could see us sitting as a family, at the dinner table, enjoying the peace of each other's company. It seems like such a waste for the cold-hearted principle and his won't-ever-die wife to occupy it. I don't really remember my mother too much. I have a picture of her holding me as a baby, but the pciture seems more of strangers than mother and child.





The air conditioner at the back of the home turned on, buzzing loudly. I snapped back to reality. It was then that I could feel the humidity in the air, reminding me that it was going to be another hot and humid day; and the sun was barely up over the rooftops. Even if we were luky, the storm coming would offer rain, not so much relief from the temperatures.





"Some day," I thought. "Some day I'll be able to get out of this hole of a town." Maybe move someplace wonderful, just anywhere else. College might be able to get me away. My dad refused to move anywhere. He would rather not have a job and live off food stamps and other people's charity than leave. He said it was for my own good. Whatever. I heard that San Diego was nice.





I continued my walk to the corner of 19th street then rounded another corner towards the school. As I neared the cemetary, the sidewalk seemed to become more and more worn. The cracks became larger. The split ends of the sidewalk grew apart, one peaking while the other remained low. I had tripped more than once on that stretch of sidewalk while daydreaming. I knew now that the cracks were because of things like tree roots and expansion and contraction from temperatures, but when I was a little kid, my sister told me, "It's cracked so much around the cemetary because the dead bodies are pushing up against the ground, trying to get out." Luckily I wised up before high school hit so I wasn't as uncomfortable with cracks in the sidewalk. Sine most students did not walk on that side of the street, the seclusion was actually quite comforting.





By this time, a few other students could be seen in front and behind me. No one that I really knew. No one that really wanted to know me. At least we agreed on something. Half a block in front me, a group of ninth graders laughed at their friend who tripped and fell, probably on one of the cracks. I chuckled to myself. I didn't feel so bad; he had probably laughed at me more than once without my knowing.