by B Truly
Justin’s eyes dilate as he bolts from the sofa. “I think a tornado is coming and those are warning sirens.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Jumping up, I rush to the nearest window, peeking through the blinds. I can hardly make out anything in the darkness. There’s no electricity with the power surge. The wind is whipping the trees so hard, I think they may break at any moment. One thing I can see is a large mass of blackness moving fast. The opaqueness of it is different from the surrounding black night—more eerie, and it seems to be where the noise is coming from. The massive form of dark haze fills me with terror. Roaring like an angry monster, it makes the hair on the back of my neck rise. I stumble backward.
Justin’s staring out the other window. He must sense the same danger as me. “Madison, we need to get downstairs!”
It’s even harder to hear with the booming of the freight train coming nearer. That’s the best way to describe the hideous sound. I feel thrown into the middle of a nightmare having to face the reality of it.
Jackson runs down the hallway. “What the hell is that sound?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a tornado,” Justin replies. “We gotta get to the half-bath. There are no windows in there.”
Jackson wastes no time heading toward the staircase.
“I have to tell Tanya,” I say, sprinting to her bedroom. Justin is right behind me. My sister is in bed asleep. “Tanya, get up!”
Groggy, she rubs her eyes. “What?”
“A tornado’s outside our doorstep!” Her eyes grow wide. The house seems to rumble with the uproar of a giant. The sound is so close, it scares me senseless.
“Head to the downstairs bathroom,” Justin tells her, pulling my arm.
We double-time it down the stairs. The wind bangs against the windows so forcefully, the noise vibrates through the house. The force of the wind becomes too much—shattering the huge windows in the living area. Glass explodes everywhere as we hit the bottom step. Shielding me with his body, Justin pushes me against a wall. Tanya screams—I whimper.
Sitting on top of us—the freight train growls. Maybe it’s my imagination, but the eerie roar seems to cause the house to tremble. My heart is beating so fast, it may pop out of my chest.
Jackson shouts from the half-bath. “Get your asses in here!”
Justin tugs me in that direction quickly and we rush inside. Tanya stumbles in seconds later. Jackson slams the door, locking it, which is almost comical. I seriously doubt a lock can keep the tornado out. At least there aren’t any windows in here—making it the safest spot. This half-bath is the size of the regular full bath in our old house, so we aren’t too cramped. A flashlight is our only source of light. Jackson is leaning against the counter. His brow is furrowed, indicating he’s just as worried as me. Tanya sits slumped on the toilet with her arms hugging herself. I crouch in the corner, shivering. Justin bends next to me.
The house rumbles with the pressure of the wind. Will it suck us up whole? A ferocious boom explodes nearby, following by a pounding thud.
“What was that?” Tanya screeches.
“It sounded like something crashed inside,” Jackson grits his teeth.
It’s hard to fathom that the howling wind grows even louder. I fear the house will crumble down on top of us. Absentmindedly, I huddle closer to Justin.
“It’s going to be all right,” Justin soothes, pulling me closer to him.
His words make me feel better. I try to envision myself somewhere else—outta sight, outta mind. Yeah, that isn’t working with the raging monster knocking at our doorstep. The tornado taunts us, opening its mouth to swallow us into its vortex. The house literally seems to shake under its wrath.
“Oh, my God! It’s going to suck us up,” Tanya whimpers.
Jackson cusses under his breath. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pray to the good Lord above.
Please spare us.
11
Harvey Part II
Time seems to stand still. I’m not sure how long the tornado hovers over us. My heart hammers inside my chest. An electric buzz of energy is flowing through me. The sensation feels unnerving—like I’m too anxious.
A moment passes, and my senses zone in—the roaring freight train has stopped. All I hear now is the pelting rain. I’m still clutching onto Justin’s shirt, trembling. I release him, not realizing how tightly I’m holding him.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I was scared, too,” Justin admits.
I offer him a small smile, admiring how he isn’t afraid to admit when he’s frightened.
“Is the tornado gone? I don’t hear it anymore,” Tanya wonders.
“I don’t know,” Justin answers. “Maybe, but tornadoes are unpredictable. It could swoop back around.”
“Don’t say that,” Tanya shrieks.
All of us stay put for a spell. With only light from the flashlight, it makes being in here even spookier.
More time goes by. I’m not sure of how much, when Jackson announces, “I’m going to take a look.”
“Is that a good idea?” I ask.
“Well, we can’t stay in here forever, sweet-cheeks.”
I roll my eyes at the nickname. Jackson eases out of the bathroom. He returns after a few minutes.
“What’s the verdict?” asks Justin.
Jackson blows out his breath. “Two windows are blown out in the living room. Furniture is turned over everywhere in there and the floor is getting drenched with rain.”
“We need to seal off the windows,” Justin advises.
“With what?” Tanya asks.
“In the garage there’s tarps and boards my dad bought just in case,” Justin replies. “It’s going to be hard to see, but we should try to patch it now.”
Jackson runs his palm over his head. “Well let’s get this over with. I need to check on my ride in the garage, anyway.”
Shakily, I rise to my feet and follow the twins into the living room. They light kerosene lamps to see by. Rain is coming out of the woodwork through the busted windows. The pattering rain is soaking the floors. Decorative chairs, end tables, and the coffee table are turned over from the chaotic wind. There is a huge dent in the vaulted ceiling like something is leaning on it.
Justin and Jackson hold up their flashlights. Peering at the ceiling, I ask, “Do you think a tree fell on top of the roof? It looks like it’s caving in.”
“More than likely,” Justin answers. “Hopefully, it doesn’t give way.”
“It’s a mess in here,” Tanya scrunches her nose. “I can’t believe Mama left us to have to deal with this. I told her not to leave.”
“The damage could’ve been a lot worse. The house could have been sucked up,” I throw out there.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Jackson agrees.
“You guys stay here while we go and grab the tools to take care of the windows,” Justin tells us.
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere,” Tanya says, sitting on the end of the staircase.
Jackson is already headed down the hall. Although I can’t see clearly with the power out, glass must be everywhere. With all the chaos, I’d forgotten I am barefoot. A clear reminder of that fact causes me to hiss. With my adrenaline pumping, I hadn’t noticed a shard of glass is stuck in my foot until I put weight on it. Flinching, I pull it out. The cut makes my whole foot sting.
“I’m going to put shoes on,” I tell Tanya.
I grab a kerosene lamp. Limping upstairs, I try not to put pressure on my foot. Checking upstairs as I go, I don’t notice any damage. Then again, the only light I have to survey is from the lamp. Once I arrive in my bedroom, I grab two pairs of socks. The second pair is to hopefully cushion the cut. I throw on the first pair of tennis shoes I find. I’ll have to tend to the cut later. I need to return to assist with the windows before downstairs gets more flooded. The twins arrive with the supplies just as I come down.
Justin glances at me. “Is everything okay?”
“Shoes,” I p
oint to them. No sense whining about my foot now, we have bigger problems.
“The Lord is looking out for me,” Jackson says. “My ride is unscathed.”
I shake my head. Boys and their toys.
“The garage and kitchen look fine from what we can tell,” Justin relays. “We’ll have to check the rest of the house in daylight.”
“I couldn’t see much, but upstairs seems fine, too,” I add.
“Well, if a few busted windows, a messed-up floor, and overturned furniture is the worst of it, then we were lucky,” Justin says.
“We better hope luck stays on our side and the roof doesn’t cave in,” Jackson throws out there. “That would create a mess we can’t rig-up.”
Justin eyes the ceiling skeptically. “Let’s get the show on the road.”
I light another kerosene lamp, placing it close to the first window they start working on. Rain is pouring through it, and we’re all getting drenched. Except for my sister, who stays on the staircase mumbling to herself.
They take the large, square wooden panel and hammer it over the window. I shine the flashlight so they can see better. After the first window is boarded, they place the blue tarp across the wood, sealing it over the wood. With the tarp in place, it doesn’t seem like any water is leaking through. They repeat the same process with the second window. We’re soaking wet by the time they are done. “I’ll try to get as much water up from the floor in the morning when there’s more light,” I tell them.
“You’re such a good sis,” Jackson winks at me.
“Our parents aren’t married,” Tanya retorts.
“Yeah, they’re just shacking up,” Jackson replies. “After all this, I’m pooped. I’m gonna get some shut-eye.”
“Me, too,” Tanya agrees.
There’s no way I’m going to be able to get any sleep. My nerves are in a bundle, anxious if another tornado will visit us again.
“What happened to your foot? I noticed you limping,” Justin asks.
“I was barefoot when we ran downstairs. A piece of glass from the broken window got stuck in my foot.”
“Come with me,” Justin instructs.
I follow him upstairs to the bathroom me and my sister share. Justin places the kerosene lamp on the counter and then opens the medicine cabinet. He pulls out ointment and Band Aids. Grabbing a washcloth, he runs water over it.
“Have a seat on the toilet,” Justin directs me, closing the lid.
I do as he instructs. “Yes, doctor.” Justin smirks at me. I giggle. His gentle touch shoots a tingle through me as he lifts my leg. He inspects my foot, holding it closer to the light. “What’s my diagnosis, doc?”
“It doesn’t look like anymore glass is in the cut. I’ll clean it up first.”
I fight back a moan as he wipes the washcloth over it. Why does him touching my foot feel this pleasant? After he cleans it, he applies the ointment and a big Band Aid.
“That should be okay for now.”
“How much do I owe you for your services?”
A smile emerges on his face. “Just don’t hurt yourself again and we’ll call it even.”
I shiver, an effect from getting drenched. Justin looks like a wet dog also.
“We should change into dry clothes before we catch a cold,” Justin advises.
We head to our bedrooms. I throw on a quick change of clothes. Not long after I’m done, there’s a light knock on my door. I open it to Justin in the threshold. Recalling what we went through not long ago causes my heart to beat faster. “Do you think we’re safe?” I blurt.
“This house is built well. I think we’re as safe as we can be. How about we both sleep in the game room?” Justin suggests.
“That would make me feel better. I’m on alert for another monster roaring through the air.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep, but I will feel better if you’re near me.”
Justin lights another kerosene lamp when we arrive in the game room, brightening the space a bit. Upstairs seems sound—untouched by the tornado that just wreaked havoc on Royal Oaks and possibly the entire Alief area. I lay on one sofa—Justin takes the other. His cell rings a few minutes later.
“We’re okay, Dad. It’s just raining now,” Justin says, answering. He listens for a moment. “I’ll assess the damage in the am and call you. The power has been out for a while. I need to conserve my cell battery. I’m going to shut it off for now.” Justin’s silent for a spell. “I’ll call you as soon as I get up, promise. Yeah, love you, too.”
Justin frowns as he hangs up. Maybe he’s not used to his dad saying, I love you. “Your dad sounds worried.”
“Yeah, I texted him before we patched the windows. He’d be on a plane right now if he could.”
“You seemed to have reassured him.”
“He feels bad for leaving, but who knew a tornado would come breezing through.”
“No one can predict the weather.”
“Apparently, meteorologists can. They are the only profession who can guess wrong, still get paid, and no one can place the blame on them.” We both laugh. “How did you fare when Katrina came through Louisiana?”
“Katrina hit New Orleans the hardest. We got major flooding in Baton Rouge.”
“Was your house okay?”
“At the time, we stayed in a three-bedroom apartment upstairs. Our unit was okay. New Orleans didn’t have such luck.”
“I remember it being all over the news.”
“Are you worried about it flooding here?”
“It’s never flooded in this subdivision in the five years I’ve lived here. That doesn’t mean anything. This storm is a different beast. The news said it’s supposed to rain for a couple of days.”
“Maybe the news will get it wrong again.”
“Hope so,” Justin agrees. “I better set my watch alarm for early in the morning since I’m turning my phone off. I don’t want my dad to worry.”
“He shouldn’t blame himself. There was no way my mom was going to cancel her trip.”
“If it had been my mom, we would have left Houston. She liked to err on the side of caution.”
“Were you two close?”
Justin’s lips curl upward, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, I was a mama’s boy.”
“That’s sweet.”
“I miss her every day. I still don’t understand what happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“She died from complications of Lupus. Nowadays, they know more about the illness. They have treatment for it. She was doing fine, and then....” Justin’s entire face crumples.
It must be difficult to discuss. Mama told us she only died three years ago. “My dad died suddenly, too. Some days I wake up and forget he’s dead,” I admit.
“In time, it does get a little easier,” Justin offers.
He doesn’t ask how my father died, which I’m grateful for. I’m not sure I can have a conversation about it yet without crying. Eventually, we fall asleep.
The pounding rain wakes me up. The house is still dark, although it’s lighter than before. My guess is that it’s morning. I followed Justin’s strategy, turning off my cell phone. I click it on, and the screen reads 8 am. Sitting up, I stretch. My body’s sore from sleeping on the loveseat. Justin looks peaceful in his slumber. His mouth is slightly parted. His eyes are moving rapidly behind his eyelids. My lips curl upward—he’s dreaming. A thought passes through my mind that I hope he’s dreaming about me. I banish it quickly. Our parents are dating—living together. I shouldn’t be harboring those inappropriate thoughts.
Checking the power, I turn on the light switch. It doesn’t come on. The power is still out for who knows how long. No one is coming to fix the outage in the middle of a storm. I ease over to the window to peek outside. Rain pelts the glass—seemingly never ending. It’s gloomy and dark—doesn’t look like it’s morning—there is no sun in sight.
Justin stirs, waking up. “Hey,” I say. “
Guess what? It’s still pouring.”
Justin grins, glancing at his watch. “I better have a look around, so I can report to my dad.”
I take advantage of the working water brushing my teeth. When I head downstairs, Justin is peering up at the roof in the living room. The ceiling is bulging and cracked but holding steady for the moment. “Do you think a tree is sitting on the roof?”
“Probably. I hope it doesn’t cave in.” Justin scratches his temple. “The good news is this seems to be the only area of the house with damage.”
The water from the busted windows is slightly below floorboard level, and it flows into the entryway. For now, it doesn’t look like any more water is coming inside—the boards are holding over the windows. We should be able to clean it up with a little bit of elbow grease. Justin turned the heater on cause his dad said it would help dry things out. I’m glad, because even though it’s August, I can’t seem to get warm.
“I’m going to get started cleaning up the water,” I tell Justin.
He helps me get several towels, a mop, and two buckets. We’re almost done a while later when Jackson and Tanya grace us with their presence.
“The damn power is still out,” Jackson frowns.
“With the rain going strong, who knows when it will be back on,” I say.
“This sucks,” Tanya chimes in. “Am I supposed to survive on sandwiches?”
“It’s not like you eat much anyway.” I can’t help my snide comment.
Justin chuckles, and then clears his throat. “We have plenty of meat. The patio is covered. I can barbecue.”
“Works for me,” I reply.
Tanya’s lips curl up, giving Justin her best smile. I refrain from rolling my eyes.
“Looks like you guys have the living room handled.” Jackson glances around the area. “I didn’t find damage anywhere else.”
“Me, either,” Justin tells him. “I texted dad with an update.”
“Yeah, I just spoke with him,” Jackson replies. “I don’t think he’s going to be able to fly in until tomorrow. The storm hasn’t let up.”
“The storm seems like it’s never going to pass,” I sigh.
Jackson whistles. “The weather app on my phone predicts the storm may pull an Allison.”