by E S Richards
Though from what he had seen outside, Chase didn’t expect it to improve any time soon. It wasn’t just the rain that bothered him, but the gale-force winds and what was picked up by them. Bits of trees, rocks, and all sorts of debris had been thrown against the side of the house in the gale. The strength of the wind so strong it was verging on hurricane.
“Here,” Chase presented the bucket to Grandma Linda as he entered Riley’s room. “It’s not getting worse, is it?”
“Yes,” Riley wailed, “it nearly ruined all my books!”
Chase looked at his little sister. She sat cross-legged on the floor as she organized her possessions into piles. Her bed was now pushed up against the wall instead of featuring as the centerpiece of the room, and her bookshelf was lying on its back, all the books removed from the shelves.
“Aw man, do you want me to stay up here and help?”
“No, it’s all right,” Grandma Linda shook her head as she took the bucket from Chase and positioned it underneath the most recent leak. “This is where the old chimney used to be, so I think that’s why it’s happening here. Judging from the area, I don’t think we’ll have any more trouble.”
“Chimney?” Chase questioned, struggling to remember a time when the old farmhouse had a working chimney. “When was that from?”
“Oh, well before your time,” Grandma Linda laughed. “I’m talking back when the farm was in full operation. This wasn’t even the main house back then; it was more of a storage facility. The chimney was taken down around about the time that Mia was born.”
“Huh,” Chase raised his eyebrows. “I never knew that. Still, you sure you don’t need any help putting things back in their place?”
“No, we’ll be fine. You head on back downstairs and keep your pop company. Had any luck with that old radio?”
“Not yet. We just keep getting static.”
“Well, that’s something,” Grandma Linda replied with a smile. “Means at least our end is working. Now we just need to wait for something to punch through from the other side.”
“Yeah, hopefully,” Chase nodded. He wasn’t pinning a lot of hope on the radio working. His phone seemed to somehow come back to life whenever a broadcast needed to be played and he had more confidence in that than anything else. Pop liked working on the old thing though; it kept his mind busy and took him back to a time before all the technology took over. “Just give me a shout if you need anything, though.”
“Will do,” Grandma Linda walked forward and kissed Chase on his forehead. “Thank you, dear.”
As Chase started to walk back downstairs, he felt a sudden chill whip up the staircase and wrap itself around his ankles. He furrowed his brow at the sensation. The farmhouse was old and—now apparently falling apart, too—but it wasn’t normally that drafty. When he eventually reached the ground floor and made his way back into the kitchen, the cause of the draft immediately revealed itself to him. The kitchen door was open. And Pop was nowhere to be seen.
“Pop!” Chase shouted at the top of his lungs, confused and worried about what had happened to his grandfather. The radio they had been working on was missing from the kitchen table, but Pop’s large sweater that he had been wearing was discarded in its place.
“Pop!” He called again, walking over to the kitchen door and sticking his head outside. The wind was howling like a horde of wild dogs, while rain slapped across his face like he was lost at sea. Chase could barely see more than ten feet ahead of him, despite it being the middle of the day. The sun hadn’t even half-risen today, leaving the outside feeling like the middle of winter.
“Chase?” Grandma Linda’s voice carried down the stairs, hearing her grandson’s cries. “What’s going on?”
“Pop’s gone missing,” Chase shouted back, panic flooding his voice. “I think he’s gone outside.”
“What?” Grandma Linda was down the stairs faster than Chase had ever seen her move before, Riley hot on her heels. “What do you mean he’s gone missing?”
“I think he’s gone outside,” Chase replied, still squinting out of the kitchen door into the darkness. “He’s taken that radio we were working on.”
“Oh no…” Grandma Linda muttered to herself, a hand going to her chest in panic.
“Don’t worry,” Chase was quick to comfort his grandmother. “I’ll go out and find him. He can’t have gone far.”
Linda looked up at Chase anxiously. She didn’t want to send him outside into the storm like this. It was her job to protect him and going outside was extremely dangerous. But what else could she do? Chase was the obvious choice out of the three of them to go out. He would be ten times better than she or Riley when it came to tracking Pop down.
“Okay,” she eventually replied. “Riley, go get a flashlight from the cupboard. Chase, find something to cover your mouth with. And take one for Pop too. How long do you think he’s been out there?”
“He was at the table when I came up to give you the bucket,” Chase explained. “He can’t have been outside for more than ten minutes.”
“Here,” Riley thrust a large flashlight into Chase’s hands. “And use these to cover your mouth.” She then pulled two old neckerchiefs from her back pocket, the kind she and Chase used to play with when they were pretending to be pirates or cowboys.
“Thanks, Riley,” Chase smiled. “Pass me his sweater too. He must be freezing.”
“Be careful out there,” Grandma Linda fretted as Chase stood by the kitchen door, shining his flashlight outside in the hope of spotting his grandfather. “If you can’t find him in fifteen minutes,” she paused, “come back inside.”
“Okay,” Chase nodded. “See you in a bit.”
Grandma Linda watched with her heart in her throat as Chase stepped out into the darkness, closing the kitchen door behind him. She felt terrified. The storm was only getting worse and she had just willingly let her sixteen-year-old grandson go out alone in it. She hoped he would listen to her about coming back after fifteen minutes. As painful as it had been to say, she knew she couldn’t risk Chase getting lost or hurt out there. She loved her husband more than anything in the world, but she wouldn’t let any harm come to her grandchildren because of it. Deep down, she knew that’s what Jerry would want as well. She had to do what she could to protect everyone, even if it meant making sacrifices. Now all she could do was clutch Riley’s hand and pray that both Chase and Pop made it back in one piece.
The weather was truly terrifying. Chase had experienced storms before but this was something different. The wind whistled around his head, encircling him in a vortex that felt as if it were pushing at him from every angle. Each step he took was a battle, the force of the wind trying to drive him back toward the farmhouse. Pop’s sweater flapped in his hands, the sleeves caught in the wind and trying to break free. Gritting his teeth, Chase pushed forward.
Bits of dirt and whatever else had been picked up by the wind brushed against his face, scratching at his skin and leaving dirty marks in their place. Chase did his best to ignore them, focusing on what he could see ahead of him rather than what he could feel. He had to find Pop. The old man had been outside for too long now, especially in his state. No matter what he said, Chase knew his grandfather wasn’t as strong as he used to be. His body was weak and now his mind was going that way too. He should be inside in front of a roaring fire, not lost and alone in a storm.
“Pop!” Chase cried into the wind, his voice practically thrown back in his face. “Pop! Where are you?”
Chase was making his way around the side of the farmhouse and over to the barn first, trying to rationally work out where his grandpop would have gone. He had to change how he walked, holding up an arm in front of his face so he could see more clearly. The wind was so powerful it almost hurt to keep his eyes open, his corneas stinging from the elements.
Breathing wasn’t much easier either. The neckerchief that was tied around the lower half of his face rustled in the wind, freeing itself from where Chase ha
d tucked the bottom into his sweater almost every thirty seconds. It was a painful task to have to keep stuffing it back down his top, though Chase knew it was completely necessary. Breathing in the volcanic ash from the cloud could very well be deadly—he knew that much. Even if it was irritating, protecting his lungs was something he absolutely had to do.
“Pop?” Chase called again as he reached the barn, pushing the door open with his shoulder and tumbling inside. “Pop, are you in here?”
Doing a quick sweep of the barn, Chase discovered immediately that his grandfather wasn’t inside. The only living things in the barn were Milk and Shake, the two cows huddling close to one another as the old barn was rattled by the increasing storm.
“It’s all right, girls,” Chase spoke to them in a soothing voice. “This will all be over soon, don’t worry.”
Doing one final check of the barn, Chase made sure his mouth and nose were properly covered, tied his pop’s sweater around his waist and braved the outside once more. He had no idea how much time had already passed. Normally it wouldn’t take him more than a minute to walk to the barn, but he felt like he’d been outside for much longer than that already.
His teeth were chattering inside his mouth, his fingers turning numb as he clutched the flashlight and shone it away from the farmhouse. Where should he look next? The land that the house was built on was massive. It covered over a hundred acres, with countless fields that used to house the cattle but now lay unkempt and uninhabited.
Then an idea leapt into Chase’s head. The old milking station. It was a building that none of them used anymore, but back in the day it was where Pop had spent the vast majority of his working day. It was about a quarter of a mile from the house—would Pop have been able to make it there? Chase did some quick math in his head while he hugged the side of the barn, still constantly shining his light around in the hope of spotting his grandfather. In this weather it would’ve maybe taken Pop about ten minutes to get there. Chase figured he could make it in five.
Checking his face was still protected, Chase pushed off from the wall of the barn and broke into a run. He knew the way. He might not ever spend time in the milking station anymore, but he knew exactly where it was. When they were younger, he and Riley had played games in that building, drawing pictures on the stone floor and later washing them away with water or hiding among all the old milking equipment. There were so many of his happy childhood memories dotted around the farm and the surrounding area. Chase wondered how many of them would be tarnished by the effects of the Yellowstone eruption once all was said and done.
The flashlight bounced over the ground as he ran. Old crops, scattered rocks, and broken tree branches that were being carried around by the wind were illuminated in his path. Chase barely had time to dodge most of them. His heavy feet pounded at the ground as he got closer to the milking station.
Huffing and puffing after three minutes of flat-out running, Chase could just make out the building ahead of him. It was almost pitch black now. He’d left the soft lights of the farmhouse behind him and despite the hour of the day, it could’ve been the middle of the night. There was no sunlight. No break in the clouds and no respite from the weather that raged against his body from every direction.
“Pop!” Chase called out hopefully as he moved within touching distance of the milking station. The door on the side was slightly ajar. Had it been left that way? Had the wind blown it open? Or did that mean his grandfather was inside? Sprinting the final few yards, Chase barreled into the building at full speed, shining his flashlight around in a desperate attempt to find his lost relative.
“Pop?” Chase muttered in a much softer voice. “Pop, are you okay?”
Chase was by his grandfather’s side in seconds. The old man sat on the floor in one corner of the building, his arms hugged around his knees as he shivered from the cold. Wrapping his arms around his grandfather, Chase felt his icy skin and flinched. He was only wearing sweatpants, an old T-shirt and slippers. A horrible question flashed through Chase’s head: how much longer would Pop have lasted before he froze to death? Ripping the sweater from his waist, Chase offered it to his grandfather, helping the old man pull it over his head and onto his body.
“Are you okay?” Chase repeated, still holding on to his grandfather firmly and rubbing his hands up and down his arms in an attempt to pass over some body heat. “What are you doing out here?”
Jerry looked up at Chase with wide eyes. His bottom lip quivered and his eyes filled with tears. Chase couldn’t bear it. He looked back at his grandfather and saw only a frightened old man, not the strong figurehead he had grown up with. It was horrible. Jerry didn’t seem to know who he was anymore, let alone why he had walked to the old milking station in the middle of a storm. The radio he and Chase had been working on lay on the floor beside them, still not in a useable condition. Chase tried to figure out what would’ve been going through Pop’s head, but he couldn’t come up with anything. Not that that mattered. The most important thing was that he’d found his grandfather and that he was safe. Hugging the old man tightly, Chase tried to do everything he could to make him feel better.
Chapter 13
The storm continued to howl and scream outside. It didn’t sound like it was going to calm down or stop any time soon. He had barely gotten Pop’s body temperature back up above freezing and taking the old man back out into the storm was out of the question. Jerry quivered constantly, his teeth chattering and his breath coming out in ragged pants and gasps. The two of them would just have to sit it out and return to the farmhouse when it was safe. Chase just hoped Grandma Linda and Riley would be okay without them.
The minutes turned into hours as the two of them sat in silence. Chase tried talking to his grandfather on several occasions, but the old man would only shake his head or whimper in response. Chase had never seen him like this before. In a way, it was even scarier than the storm outside. He could deal with a bit of bad weather, but Chase didn’t want to lose the only male role model left in his life.
He looked up to Pop immensely. Since his dad died, Chase had found himself learning more and more about what it meant to be a man from his grandfather than he had ever understood before. Pop had helped him grieve in his own way. When Chase got angry at the world, Pop had been there to help Chase let it out. Whether that meant aggressively chopping weeks of firewood in one sitting, or throwing a football around a field for hours. Whatever it had taken, Pop had been there for him. Without the old man, Chase didn’t think he’d be in the place he was now. He still missed his parents every day—more than he’d ever thought possible—but somehow, he was managing to deal with it.
Now it was his turn to return the favor and be there for Pop instead. Chase felt his grandfather fall asleep next to him after a couple of hours, the old man’s breathing slowing and growing steadier. Chase was glad for it. At least if he was sleeping, then Pop didn’t need to worry about what was happening outside and Chase could worry less about Pop in turn.
He speculated how much damage had been done to the farmhouse. Grandma Linda had said the leak in Riley’s room was only because of the old chimney being there, but how much worse had that gotten over the past few hours? The mudroom had a few leaks in its ceiling as well—Chase wondered if that had gotten worse too. There was so much work that needed doing to the farmhouse. The next few days were going to be busy and tiring, of that Chase was certain.
More than any damage that had been done to the house though, Chase worried about the women he’d left inside. He knew that Riley would be strong following the conversation they’d had in the barn the other day, but she was still only thirteen years old. This was a lot for her to shoulder and Chase wouldn’t blame her if she crumbled slightly under the pressure.
The same could be said for Grandma Linda. The old woman was one of the strongest people Chase knew. She was fiercely loyal and equally stubborn. If she thought something was right then she would act on it, no matter what the outcome woul
d be. Chase knew his Grandma would do anything to protect those around her—he knew how much it must be killing her not to know where he and Pop were.
Eventually—Chase couldn’t be certain how many hours later—the weather started to quiet outside. The wind didn’t shriek through the cracks in the milking station walls as loudly as it had, and the drops of rain that fell through the ceiling slowed from a turbulent river to a dripping faucet. Finally, the storm was coming to an end.
With Pop still asleep next to him, Chase wasn’t sure what to do. He knew they should try and make it back to the farmhouse while they had the chance, but he also wanted to let his grandfather rest. After what the old man had been through, he was sure his body was in need of the timeout. Chase needn’t have worried though. As if he knew the time had come to leave, Pop started to stir just five minutes later. Choosing his actions carefully, Chase waited for Pop to fully wake from his slumber and recognize where they were.
“What…?” Pop looked around groggily, rubbing his eyes and peering around the dimly lit milking station. They were now well into the evening hours—by Chase’s best guess anyway. Whatever shred of daylight had been present earlier was long gone and only the light from the flashlight illuminated the two men. “What’s happened?”
“Are you okay?” Chase spoke gently to his grandpop, gauging the older man’s reaction carefully. “What do you remember?”
Pop looked at his grandson with a puzzled expression. How had they ended up in the milking station? He tried thinking back to the hours before, but his mind was all hazy. He remembered sitting at the kitchen table trying to get the old radio to work…now that very radio was on the floor beside them? How had it gotten outside? How had they gotten outside? Panic slowly started to fill Pop’s head as he realized he had no recollection of what happened. His heartrate increased and his palms started to feel sweaty. Suddenly it was hot. Very hot. He didn’t like it. He felt like he had no control. Like a part of him was missing.
