The Storm Tamer

by M. Garnet

  How much more do you want me to tell you? How about that hacker that got into all the local banks except yours because he got caught in the morning he was working at his computers in his garage in Orlando?"

  "Stop." Margo was hugging the pillow so tight that it was almost ready to burst.

  He pushed the bent metal one more time. "You have a choice to make about time. It is all on you."

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Margo was amazed that in the short amount of days and weeks that she had known Rahm Maaker; she had never shed so many tears. She had cried when they told her about the death of her parents and shed some tears at the funeral. But flying with their bodies back up to Kentucky to an old family cemetery with a lot of cousins for support, there weren't many tears spent as this was a natural passing, placing them in the ground where the family had been buried for the last century.

  How could he ask her to make this choice? Why hadn't he just done the thing, whichever and not let her know the outcome? But in explaining the choice she had to make he had told her several times how much he loved her and that it was for that reason that he was giving her the freedom of choice.

  Two choices. They both involved time. He would use a storm to make her choice in time permanent. Either choice was going to leave her a broken woman.

  Spelled out the choices were simple, she could stay with him or go back to Florida. The details were too difficult and involved so much more information.

  If she stayed with him, he offered her immortality and love with him for as long as she desired. He offered her the chance to watch this changed world as it developed and she could help him change some points that would improve the lives of those that were progressing.

  He admitted there wouldn't be children of their own, but he offered her the chance to adopt or set up homes for the lost children that she could find and help. He explained that she would see and live through progression and probably see space travel.

  It sounded so wonderful if there hadn't been a second choice. That choice was he could reverse in time the actions of all the storms that hit the North American Continent. In order to do that she would have to return herself to that bathroom in Florida with her little dog and wait out the hurricane.

  She would have no memory of him or anything that had happened over the past few weeks. All of the people and land and property that had been wiped out would be put back and everything would exist without any problems except for the normal storm damage caused as the hurricane passed.

  What was weighed in this decision were the uncounted lives that would not be taken away by these terrible storms and earthquakes that altered the shape of America within hours and over one night.

  The plus was that she would allow untold thousands to live and go on with their lives. She would save her little dog, and she would live a normal life with the expectancy of normal years of seventy-five to eighty years.

  She could find a nice guy, get married, and let him move into the nice home she inherited from her parents and have two point five children. Except even with a memory wipe, how could she love anyone except Rahm? She might not find him in her memories but her heart would have a wound that had his name on it.

  Even for love, she had only one choice and they both knew what it was. Unlike Tarm who was a self-centered evil person, she had a chance to save the lives of an uncountable number of people. She would give up love and immortality to save her own soul. Someday, when her life did come to an end, perhaps there would be a balance.

  She asked him not to come to her bedroom that night and she got no sleep. When Margo wasn't tossing in her bed, she was walking back and forth on the black marble floor.

  When enough light came through the window, she got dressed and went out to walk through the late fall forest. The smell of the evergreens was prevalent over the deciduous trees that had lost most of their leaves.

  The cool, clean air did nothing to clear her confused mind. Even the gold and pale yellow fall aster flowers still blooming amid the ground covered by leaves could not draw her mind's attention.

  It was late in the afternoon before she returned to the dark house to find Rahm leaning against one of the wide open doors. She found it strange how his unusual handsome face matched the carved beauty of those large wooden doors.

  "I have warm soup waiting for you in the dining room. You have to be cold as you stayed out too long and are not dressed for the cooler weather."

  Letting him take a hand, Margo followed him down the dark hall and under the stairs to the long table in the dining area. At one end was a setting for two with candles and silver at each setting.

  Margo sat in the chair he pulled out and she allowed him to remove her jacket. The cook immediately brought out steamy bowls of mushroom soup. The rich smell drifted up and she took the big spoon to bring the taste to her mouth. Swallowing was hard with the lump in her throat. She knew that this was their last meal together.

  Eating very little and tasting none of what she put into her mouth she spent the time memorizing the room with the paintings on the walls and the unlit but crystal chandelier hanging down from the art performed ceiling.

  "Cook tried very hard to make a fine meal but you have not shown the proper appreciation of it, my love."

  Pushing something around on her plate with a fork, Margo realized they were on the dessert. What had gone on during the hour that had passed with this meal? Did she wonder if she might have flashbacks after her mind was wiped? She didn't look at him because she already had him memorized and she really hoped that she never thought or dreamed of him after they had to part.

  "My sweet, can I offer you a harmless favor since this meal did not turn out to be what I planned as a success? Ask me for something."

  There was that whiskey whisper voice that ran all the way down to her toes. She thought for a moment and nodded.

  "You have never taken me into your bedroom. I would like to have love with you in your bed." Now she looked over at him. He had combed his thick dark hair back away from his face yet small strands were loose from the soft mat.

  The color of his skin was a warm tan and his lips were a warmer pink but it was the gem-colored eyes set deep under the slanted eyebrows that accented his entire face. He was just a good-looking man. She never had in her whole life called a man good-looking until she met Rahm.

  He got up and lifted her from her chair, letting it fall over backward out of the way. His movements were slow yet even with her weight he could take the stairs two at a time. He went to the balcony and stood in front of his door that opened as if it recognized him. Of course, it recognized him.

  As he carried her across the soft carpet that hushed his steps she was amazed that there were several of the lamps and they were turned on, bathing the room in soft light. She could see the many paintings on the walls, the corner fireplace that had a low fire burning around a couple of short logs and plush furniture in sitting positions.

  The bed was the largest piece in the room, a great mammoth wooden frame with tall carved posts on each corner that reached at least eight feet tall and a head board that had roses and lions' heads tooled deeply into the dark teak.

  He dropped her in the middle of a soft deep fur cover that spread over the full bed that was wider and longer than any king size bed she had ever seen. But before she could admire the size of his bed, his long body was now over hers as his lips found hers and the kiss that she needed was all she wanted.

  Love this time was gentle and all night. He floated her as her clothes disappeared and his long fingers made magic bring her to a peak and held her there until she begged and then he let her body spasm in relief as he licked her neck.

  He entered her as they lay on the soft bed and he pushed her again to the peak that tightened every muscle in her body with her eyes open, looking deeply into his ocean blue-green eyes.

  They both drifted down and she hadn't even been aware that they had been up above the bed. The bed welcomed her with his warm
length beside her. The smell of sex and his odor of forest and pure male filled her lungs, as she took deep breaths. She closed her eyes and smiled and slid close to him.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Margo rolled over and Cayo her dog yelped as she threw one arm over him, surprising him in his sleep. She opened her eyes in confusion and looked at the small King Charles spaniel who was now trying to lick her face.

  She tried to get up off the bathroom floor and was so sore that every bone and muscle in her body ached. That would teach her to try to sleep on towels on a hard tile floor. Her dog was bouncing around in his manner that let her know he had to pee, but she wondered if the storm had passed.

  She went to the one small window and pushed the drape and blinds aside and pulled up the bottom glass that was etched for privacy. It was daylight, and a wind blew, but there was no rain, and the wind didn't seem that strong.

  "Okay boy, you get to go out without a leash. I figure you are frightened enough that you will stay pretty close."

  Walking with a limp, surprised how sore she was in her crotch, she made her way through the kitchen into the living room and saw the damage water and wind had done here after the front window had been smashed inward.

  The door opened easy, and Cayo rushed out and was able to make it to the lawn despite the debris everywhere. Things looked strange as if the neighborhood had changed or was a place she had never seen. She chalked it up to the storm damage and the fact that the sky was still a strange color with the unusual swirl of clouds that were the tails of the hurricane. Margo remembered from watching the weather channels that these long curving tails of the storm would take several days to clear from the area as the eye of the storm moved up the east coast away from Florida.

  Moving a couple of limbs out of her way she walked out to the driveway to see the damage to her next door neighbor’s house with a large old oak tree down on it, crumpling the roof.

  Her attention was drawn to the flashing lights on a slow moving Sherriff's car, so she walked out to meet it as it stopped at the edge of her driveway.

  "Miss Sanderson? You live here, correct?"

  She nodded and looked back at her house. "Yes. We did pretty fair except for my front window. I haven't checked the back yet."

  "Do you have any ID?"

  Looking down at her rumpled clothes she had to admit she didn't present a composed picture. "I have to go into the house to get my purse. It will only take me a minute, or you can come with me."

  "Lead the way."

  Calling her dog, she let the little happy animal lead them into the house. The deputy waited in the disheveled living area, and she came back with her wallet to give him her driver’s license.

  She waited as she heard him call in on his mic attached to his shoulder. He told someone her address and confirmed that the owner was present.

  When he was done, he gave her the license back.

  "Are you here alone?"

  "Yes sir, is that a problem?"

  "You need to get that window covered with plywood. You need to lock up tight and don't even think of going out for food or water as everything is closed up. There are looters."

  The deputy was moving out the front door.

  "Thanks, the people across the street are also home, and I think I can get help from Dale to nail up some plywood I have in my garage. I have water and food as I stocked up and I have my cell phone and a tablet and can recharge them by running my car with the garage door up."

  Outside he put a police sticker on her door. "Looks like you were smart even though you didn't evacuate. Here are a couple of more stickers. Put them around outside. It tells other emergency crews that you are already checked out and keeps the looters away."

  He pointed to her block standing mailbox holder. "I will put a sticker on that also. I'll leave my car here and go visit your neighbors."

  The tradeoff to get her front window covered was to give Dale some wood and extra pieces to fix a couple of problems he had with his own home.

  The one good thing about Florida was that it was prepared for storm emergency. Margo had water running in her home within days and power within a week. In between, she brought buckets of water from her pool to flush her toilet and went for dips each night for her bath.

  She ate the food that would spoil from her refrigerator first then took the time to clean it out and wipe it clean. Again a bucket of water from the pool with some bleach in it served to purify and make her fridge ready for when the power did come on. She never opened the lower freezer section, timing it so when she thought it would stay safely cold enough. If she thought it went too long, she would eat the meat on her grill and offer it to the neighbors who were coming back. She could always grill some for the emergency workers who were cutting up the big fallen trees.

  But the power came on in time to save the frozen food. There were a couple more rain storms from the strange stringers from the hurricane named Mario as it moved up into the Carolina's and blew itself out.

  She got a reputable firm to install new windows and decided to wait a while to have the screens in her lanai repaired. Things had finally settled down in her small Florida town on the edge of two large cities and a big beach area.

  She had pulled her car out a time or two and charged up her Kindle and her iPhone and read books, typed to friends and even talked to worried people in other states. Before the power was up, she could get the news on her hand held items, but she was having some problem remembering how to operate them for a moment to two.

  She wondered if she should talk to a doctor about her memory and the fact that everything looked different as if she had been away for a very long vacation and upon returning all the colors had changed. It was if the storm had washed away all the bright tones and left everything in pale imitations.

  Her house that had been painted only two years before seemed sedated and the trim looked not an outstanding brick color but an older used brick. Her car that had been advertised as Prairie Gold was just an off-white or pale gray.

  There were other things that had changed after the storm. The stories that she tried to read were boring. She was no longer interested in the mediocre erotic love stories sold as ebooks chick love tales, so she turned to SciFi, getting lost in the future.

  She got a notice on her laptop of the next meeting of the Garden Club, reminding her how important it was for everyone to be there with thoughts of replanting. She wrote back that she couldn't make the meeting.

  She didn't really have anything to do on that evening, but she wasn't interested in listening to these women and their discussions. She had always found a lot of their talk silly and boring but had adhered to her mother's advice of tolerance to others and balanced the conversations against the good that they did in their arbor work.

  Now with all the damage around her own area, she couldn't find any balance or color among those foolish but well-meaning women who were more concerned with what to wear when planting a tree at the Fire Station and deciding to ban someone who caused some problems.

  She was considering going to an optometrist as she was still finding all the colors around her world as pale and washed out. She decided part of it was because the high winds had stripped away all the blooms and a great deal of leaves from plants.

  Of course, all the native plants fared well, as the palm trees and palm bushes had bent with the wind and endured. Now they spread their branches out again to make beautiful umbrellas to entice birds and insects as they swayed in gentle breezes. Yet for Margo, their colors looked gray, not green.

  She used her TV as background noise, very seldom getting caught up in a story or a new program. She couldn't find a song or music that appealed to her except for some semi-classical that she loaded to her phone.

  Margo found herself taking long road trips on side roads that were not busy. Old routes in Florida that were only two lanes with heavy moss hanging down from the trees and large lawns in front of houses spread far apart. She would often get l
ost and have to stop at one of the old gas stations that sat on corners.

  Losing her appetite meant that she avoided the restaurants she used to spend hours in, visiting and reading and trying new foods. Her clothes were loose, and she just didn't care what she put on when she went out.

  With the power back on she went into her online accounts to follow up on design work she did with a couple of sites that allowed you to put up designs and people could purchase them. She did wedding invitations and anything connected with weddings, but suddenly this all looked dull.

  She had several sales that needed answers and a lot of hits, and she went to her second screen and opened a couple of screens to allow her to start filling in a book cover. It was relaxing, and she felt the tension slip out of her shoulders. For a change, she saw actual full colors on her new screen as she began to create a Science Fiction book cover.

  She hunted through free photos for a ship and had to alter a spaceship because she wanted one that was so different from the ones she saw on the books she had seen recently. She also wanted to ghost in the face of a woman and have asteroids tumbling around with lots of blazing color in the background against the black and dark blue sky.

  The hours moved by and she stopped and leaned back to look at what she had done. It had nothing to do with what she sold on the Internet. Still, she saw a story behind it.

  She brought up a classic word program and set it up for a book layout and began to type. She wasn't sure where the words were coming from; perhaps a muse had woken up inside of her. She was deep in space thousands of years in the future, and she loved it.

  Most amazing of all, this was a love story built into wars and deceit and all the dangers of living in space. It was her growling stomach that made her quit.

  She came back to her story every day, working deep into the night and within a week she had ninety thousand words. Being a person who had worked precisely on computers for years, she now had to do some research as what a beginner does with her first book.