by William Bell
“Come on, man!” Slammer yelled.
“Too late, Allie! Get down!” Razz cried.
But she couldn’t. She stared, bug-eyed, out the windshield as the whirlwind came on. It swallowed the main building of the racetrack across the highway from them. The building just seemed to explode. The roof popped up and flew to bits, spinning up into the black cloud. The walls blew outwards as if a bomb had gone off inside, and bricks scattered across the track.
The whirlwind came across the highway, flipping two more cars over and sending a tractor-trailer rolling down the bank. Chunks of wood and shingles and pieces of branches began to slam against the van. Something whacked the wind-shield, cracking it. The fierce wind roared around them.
“We gotta get out of here!” Slammer shouted above the noise. He scrambled to the back of the van and opened the doors. The raging wind thundered into the van.
“Slammer! No!” Razz cried. “Stay inside!”
But it was too late. Slammer was gone. Then he appeared in front of the van, running down the gravel shoulder of the exit ramp. The wind ripped at his clothes, and chunks of wood and other junk spun around him. Then something hit him in the legs and he fell, hard. He rolled, pushed by the wind, and smashed up against a white guardrail post. Through the swirling dust Allie saw him wrap his arms around the post. But the wind plucked him away like a doll. He was picked up and thrown at the van. Slammer’s body banged against the windshield, leaving a big red star of blood on the glass before it disappeared.
“Get down, Allie!” Razz yelled again. But she couldn’t. She was in a trance. She felt like she was going to vomit as Slammer’s blood ran down the wind-shield. The van rocked in the powerful wind. Then, as the center of the whirlwind came toward the van, it turned and went down Essa Road! The black finger passed through an intersection, scattering cars. It began to climb the hill, ripping trees from the ground and chewing them up. It hit the Holiday Inn. The big picture window blew out and millions of bits of glass climbed into the cloud.
The finger scratched its way up the hill and began blowing the houses on the edge of the hill to pieces. Roofs lifted into the air, spun, and fell away. Walls blew out and splintered to bits.
Allie watched the whirlwind disappear over the hill.
Then she began to scream, over and over.
Her parents’ house was in that neighborhood.
Chapter Six
Razz had to shake Allie to get her to stop screaming. He slumped back into his seat, talking as if he was in a daze. “I guess… I guess we should go see if Slammer is… alive…”
Allie squeezed her eyes shut, trying to get her head straight. Was it a nightmare? Had she really seen a tornado snatch Slammer up into the sky and then rip the houses on the hill to bits? When she opened her eyes, the smear of blood on the windshield gave her the answer.
Razz kept trying to start the van. The motor groaned and coughed, but that was all. So they climbed out and walked slowly around to the back of the van. There was no wind now, and the sun seemed to smile from the clear sky as if everything had been a joke. It was dead quiet.
Razz pulled himself up onto the bumper of the van, then to the roof. He peered into the distance, turning slowly as he scanned the fields beside the highway. Slammer was nowhere to be seen. Razz lowered himself to the ground again.
“He’s gone,” said Razz, his voice quiet. “How could he just disappear?”
Allie shuddered when she thought of it. Slammer’s broken body falling out of the whirlwind, landing in a field—or maybe someone’s yard.
Then her mind began to wake up. “Razz! Our parents!”
Razz looked at her. “No way, Brainy. My place is miles from here, in the other direction. But—”
Allie felt her heart pounding with fear. “We’ve got to get to my house, to see if it’s… Let’s go!”
They began to run down the exit ramp to Essa Road. They soon reached the intersection. There were several overturned cars scattered around. Smoke poured from a pickup truck. A man with his shirt torn to ribbons stood watching it, shaking his head. A few people wandered around as if they were lost. An old man knelt in the middle of the road beside a woman in a pink dress. “Sara,” he was saying as he shook her. “Sara, Sara.”
“Maybe we should stop and help,” Razz suggested.
“No, please,” Allie answered. “Let’s keep going.”
At the corner of Fairview they stopped and looked up the hill at the blasted houses. The most direct route to Allie’s house was up the hill and through the yards. But Razz and Allie turned and followed the road. They turned left onto Little Avenue, stepping over huge branches and chunks of debris.
When they got to the top of the hill, near their school, it was as if they had stepped into a science-fiction movie. All around them were the remains of smashed houses. Allie could see into living rooms and bedrooms because walls had blown away. Front lawns were strewn with chunks of wood, fallen trees, broken furniture.
In a daze, they walked down Marshall Street. Around them, voices called kids’ names that Allie recognized. People wandered around their yards, staring at places where houses once had been.
“Looks like a war zone,” whispered Razz. “Like the city was bombed.”
At the corner of Allie’s street, they saw her neighbor’s dog, Scotty, lying in the middle of the road, his bloody tongue hanging out. A chain was hooked to his collar. At the other end of the chain was the front wall of a doghouse. They walked around the dog. Further down the street Allie saw a car lying on its side in the Dillons’ garage. But the walls and the roof of the garage weren’t there anymore.
They continued down the street. Then Allie stopped. “Oh, no,” she moaned. “No, no, no!”
Where her house had been, only part of a sidewall remained. She could see the stove and the fridge, sitting on a bare floor in the kitchen. Everything else was gone. The big maple tree had been ripped out of the ground. It lay across the yard, its leaves stripped off, and its huge roots sticking up.
Allie put her hands over her eyes. She thought she must be going crazy! She felt Razz put his arm around her.
Allie broke free and began to run. She stumbled across her front lawn and climbed up a pile of loose bricks onto the floor of what used to be her house. It was easy to see that her parents weren’t there.
“The basement!” Razz exclaimed. “Maybe they hid there!”
Allie ran to the steps that led to the basement and flung aside half a living-room couch. She went down the stairs, stepping over bricks and pieces of board. The basement was empty.
She slowly climbed the stairs into the sunlight.
“Maybe we should look around the yard,” Razz said, “in case…”
He hopped off the floor and onto the grass of the backyard. It was strewn with smashed branches and pieces of other people’s houses. Allie followed him.
In the distance they heard sirens, lots of them. Razz and Allie searched the small yard and found nothing. Allie sighed with relief.
“Maybe they weren’t at home when the tornado hit,” she said hopefully. “Yeah, that’s right! Today is Monday, so Dad would be at work and Mom would be…”
Her voice trailed off. Her mom would be at home, she knew.
Razz seemed to read her mind. “She could have been out shopping or something, Brainy. I know it’s hard, but try not to worry until we know for sure.”
He bent over and picked something up. “This yours?” he asked. He handed Allie a small portable radio.
“No.”
Allie snapped it on. It was working. She tuned it to the local station.
“Tornado” was the first word she heard. The announcer was in a panic, talking fast about the storm and the damage. So far, four deaths had been reported.
“Residents whose houses have been damaged or destroyed are urged not to try to enter their homes. Emergency centers are being set up in the following places.”
One of the places he mentioned was t
he public school four blocks from Allie’s house.
“Let’s go,” Allie said. “Maybe Mom and Dad are there.”
“O.K., Brainy, let’s go.”
They walked around the house and back toward the street. At the corner of the front yard, Allie saw a piece of white paper caught in the stripped branches of the hedge. She thought of the note she had left for her mom and dad. She remembered the four red circles. She remembered writing “You’ll be better off without me.”
Allie began to cry.
Chapter Seven
Razz and Allie hurried down the street toward the school where the emergency center was set up.
Allie whacked her fist against the side of her leg as she walked. I never should have run away, she thought. What did it solve? Nothing, that’s what. Now the four red circles don’t seem to be so important. Not even the one on the calendar
Allie looked once more at the smashed houses all along the street. The piles of brick and boards once were houses where her neighbors used to live. Nothing could be as bad as this, she thought.
Razz kicked a big batt of pink fiberglass insulation out of their way. The stuff was littered all over the streets and lawns. He looked at Allie.
“Come on, Brainy, don’t cry. Everything will be all right. You’ll see. Just hang in there until we get to the school, O.K.? I’m sure we’ll find them and they’ll be safe.”
“I hope so, Razz,” she said, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. The sound of his voice calmed her a little.
They were turning the corner onto St. John Street when they heard someone shout. “Her! Her! Look, she could do it!”
Razz and Allie stopped. There were five people standing beside the foundation of a house. The house was gone, but there was a huge jumble of boards and smashed furniture piled there, like giant matchsticks. As Allie looked at the pile, the first thing she thought was Pick-up Sticks. It was a game she used to play when she was a little kid.
A tall, thin man rushed up to them. “Please help us!” he shouted, grabbing Allie by the arm. “Our baby… you’ve got to help.”
He wrenched Allie’s arm, and she pulled away, frightened.
“Hey, take it easy, man,” said Razz.
The man tried to grab Allie again. She saw terror in his twisted face and shrank back.
“Please!” he cried again. “You’ve got to help.”
Another man had joined them. He spoke more calmly. “My friend’s baby is trapped in the cellar of his house,” he explained, pointing to where the three people stood looking under the pile of lumber that used to be a house. “We’ve got to get her out before all that junk collapses. If that happens, the baby will be—”
He looked at his friend, then back to Allie and Razz. “Will you help?”
“Why don’t you do it?” Razz asked.
“There are three men, counting you two.”
“Because there’s no way in except a little opening.” He took Razz’s arm and led him toward the others as he spoke. Allie and the father followed. “None of us can fit into it,” he went on.
A short, plump woman was crying hysterically, moaning, “My baby, my baby,” again and again. Her dress was ripped and tears made white streaks in the dirt on her face. She stared into the mass of jumbled lumber. Allie could hear a baby wailing from somewhere in the mess.
The father pointed to the cellar window. Allie looked in and she could see right away what the man meant. There was a small opening there. A person her size could probably squeeze through the gap and get into the basement.
“Maybe it would be better to wait until the fire department or someone with equipment could get here,” Razz said.
“Are you kidding?” the father answered, his voice angry. “Have you seen the streets? They’re clogged with trees and hunks of houses. It’ll be hours before anyone can get through.”
Just as he spoke, the huge mass of twisted and jumbled lumber shifted, groaning and creaking as it settled. The mother shrieked and cried even louder.
“John, do something! She’ll die in there!”
Allie didn’t know what to do. She peered in through the window, then scanned the faces of the people.
“Don’t do it, Brainy,” warned Razz. “You’ll never get out again.”
Allie was scared. Razz is right, she thought.
She said, “I don’t think—”
“Oh, no,” said one of the other men. “Look!”
From the front corner of the house, a wisp of black smoke curled up into the still air.
The mother shrieked again. The other woman and man began talking at the same time. The father looked over at the smoke.
“The fireplace! I had a fire on in the family room when the tornado hit. It must be spreading!”
Allie was on her knees at the cellar window before she knew what she was doing.
“Brainy, no!” Razz yelled.
Allie didn’t see the father shove Razz roughly out of the way. She felt someone grab her ankles.
“I’ll lower you down,” said the other man. “Gently now.”
He let her slide slowly into the basement until her hands touched the carpeted floor.
“O.K., let go,” she said over her shoulder.
Allie fell into a heap. She got onto her hands and knees and looked around. It was dark and gloomy. The basement ceiling had caved in, leaving only a narrow crawl space around the outer walls of the house. Allie couldn’t see the baby’s crib in the far corner, but she could hear the crying. As she started to crawl along the wall, a wisp of smoke floated toward her.
She reached the far wall of the house easily, scraping her back on the broken boards a few times. She turned left and headed for the corner where the crib was. When she got there, she knew things were going to be tough. When the ceiling had collapsed, it had pinned the crib against the wall. Now the crib was trapped in a cage of broken lumber.
The baby wore a white cloth diaper and a tiny white T-shirt with pink elephants on it. She was blonde, with curly hair. She was crying softly.
Allie couldn’t see a way to lift her out. Gently she pulled at the wooden bars of the crib. The boards above groaned and shifted. I can’t lower the side, she thought, or the whole mess will fall in on us.
Allie stopped to think. She was surprised at how calm she felt. Crawling along the wall, she had been terrified. She was still scared, but now she could think clearly. She smelled smoke again—stronger this time. I’d better do something soon, she thought.
Allie then noticed that the mattress rested on a frame with springs, and the frame was hung onto the crib with hooks. The hooks fit onto metal prongs attached to the crib, so that the mattress could be raised or lowered.
Taking a deep breath, Allie decided what to do. She slid under the crib and reached up to unhook the bedspring at one corner. The mattress was heavy. She had to heave upwards with all her strength and slip the hook off the prong. It worked. The mattress sagged suddenly at one corner, startling the baby. Poor little kid, thought Allie as the baby began to wail louder. Allie slid to the other corner, heaved up with all her might and unhooked the bedspring, which then dropped on top of her.
Carefully, she worked her way out from under the heavy mattress. The squalling baby began to slide towards the floor and Allie easily reached over and pulled her out.
She held the tiny girl in her arms, softly talking to her. The baby grew quiet. How am I going to carry her out? thought Allie. I can’t crawl holding her. She looked around, and found an answer. Taking a blanket from the crib, she folded it several times to make it soft, lay the baby on it and began to crawl backwards, gently pulling the baby along behind her. As she dragged, the baby began to giggle and kick her feet.
Allie got to the corner of the basement just as the pile of lumber shrieked and groaned. She snatched up the baby and held it to her as the floor collapsed further with a rumble and crash, sending clouds of dust over them. Allie moaned. She was sure she was going to die.
“I’m O.K.,” she yelled. She began to crawl again, very slowly, dragging the baby girl, inching backwards on her hands and knees.
She felt something stab into her back. Behind her, the boards had collapsed to within a foot of the carpet, and a long spike projected down. She lay the baby down again and lowered herself to her stomach. Inching backwards, she slid carefully under the nail. But she couldn’t get flat enough. The nail dug into her, scoring a sharp, painful line along her back and catching on her bra strap. She struggled and felt the nail let go, then inched backwards again. Then she stopped and carefully dragged the baby under the nail.
The smoke was really bad now. Allie and the baby began to cough.
“There she is!” the father shouted. “Come on, kid, you’re almost home.”
Allie tried to move more quickly. The baby was coughing and wailing, her nose running. She was twisting and struggling to get away from the smoke.
Finally, Allie was below the window. She got to her knees and pulled the baby to her. Lifting the little girl into her arms, Allie wrapped her in the blanket, covering her head. The baby screamed in protest.
“Just a little longer,” Allie crooned to her. She turned and lifted the baby up to the waiting arms that stuck through the opening at the window, just as the black smoke boiled around her.
Allie couldn’t see. The smoke choked her and she began to cough and retch. Her lungs burned and she felt as if the air was being squeezed out of her. She could hear the fire now, crackling and roaring. Trying to stand, she bashed her head on a board and fell down again. She got to her knees, fighting for breath, and slid her hands up the cement wall, feeling for the opening. Then strong hands grabbed hers and began to pull. The boards around her groaned and collapsed with a cracking roar as Allie was dragged upward.
She was out. She lay on the grass in the sunlight, gasping.
Allie struggled and sat up, trying to get her breath. Around her, voices cried and rattled. But this time the voices were relieved and happy.