Black Blizzard

by Kristin F. Johnson

  Julia squeezed Tyler’s shoulder.

  Tyler’s heart was racing again, either from the adrenaline of the moment or from Julia touching his shoulder. He breathed in deeply. The driver was alive. The CPR had worked. Someone was coming to help them. Now Tyler hoped the ambulance would arrive soon. From the looks of the driver’s face, which was still as gray as the retreating dust storm, he probably wasn’t out of the woods yet.

  13

  “I see something,” Kevin was saying about a half hour later. “Look over there!”

  “What is that?” José squinted and stared at the horizon.

  In the distance, it looked like something moving. Lights flashed. A faint sound of a siren wailed, but the sound went in and out with the wind.

  Was it just a mirage? Or was it like when you see something on a hot day and the sun makes the heat in the air shimmer? Mr. Dwyer had taught them that the effect was called heat haze. Hot air rises and mixes with cool air, distorting the light waves.

  The group stood in a line and stared, with their hands up to their foreheads to shield their eyes from the setting sun. From a distance, they probably looked like a company of soldiers saluting. They had been like soldiers—like in one of Tyler’s video games, but instead of battling an army of zombies, they had battled nature.

  The approaching shape came from the opposite direction that the storm had gone.

  It was a vehicle, coming down the road from Tucson.

  “It’s the ambulance,” Sha’relle breathed.

  Now that it got closer, the siren grew louder. And something else was in the distance further behind the ambulance: the replacement bus.

  “They’re coming for us!” Ethan shouted. “They’re coming for us!”

  Tyler and Ethan ran along the side of the bus and drummed their hands against the dimpled metal as they cheered and whooped. It was covered in a layer of dust and dirt and every slap against the side of the bus left smudgy handprints, but they didn’t care.

  ***

  When the ambulance got close, some of the students started waving their arms so the vehicle would pull up to where the bus driver was lying on the ground. The back doors of the ambulance opened, and two paramedics jumped out. They brought a stretcher over to the driver.

  “What happened?” one paramedic asked as she glanced at the rest of them.

  “Heart attack, we think,” Mr. Dwyer said. “Some students performed CPR.”

  The paramedics leaned down and spoke to the driver. “Can you hear me?”

  The driver was out of it, but after a moment, he wheezed, “Yes.”

  “Do you know where you are? What state are we in?”

  “Arizona.”

  “Where were you today?”

  The driver paused before responding. He moaned in pain and touched his chest where Ethan had done the compressions.

  “You’re probably just sore from the CPR. That’s normal,” the paramedic said. She kept her voice calm. “Do you remember what you were doing today?”

  “Well . . . I drove to a speech tournament . . . in Tucson.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Not so good.” He struggled to stand up, and his legs wobbled. The paramedic’s hands hovered over him.

  “Whoa, sir. Let’s get you on a gurney.”

  “That’s probably best.”

  The two paramedics ran back to the ambulance, propped up the legs of the gurney, and rolled it near the driver.

  “Lie down flat on your back,” the other paramedic instructed as he prepped the gurney once it was stopped.

  They stood on either side of the driver, hoisted him onto the gurney, and wheeled him over to the ambulance. Once they’d loaded him into the back, the male paramedic jumped inside. The other closed the doors and then came back to the rest of group.

  “Who did the CPR?” she asked.

  Everyone pointed at Ethan.

  She smiled at him. “You saved this man’s life, young man. He should thank his lucky stars you were here.”

  “Thanks,” Ethan said. “But it was a team effort.” He jerked a thumb toward Tyler.

  A smile tugged the corners of Tyler’s mouth. Maybe he wasn’t such a screwup after all.

  14

  Tyler felt lighter somehow. After grabbing his backpack from the old bus, he launched up the steps of the rescue bus that had just arrived—another yellow school bus. He walked halfway down the aisle and slid into a seat. No one had wanted to sit with him on the initial ride home, but now he didn’t care. He just wanted to get home. He yawned and leaned his head against the window. His stomach growled. He found the granola bar in his backpack and unwrapped it. The first thing he would do when he got home was eat some chips and salsa while his dad grilled burgers for dinner. In the meantime, Tyler figured he’d probably sleep the whole ride home.

  The rest of the team filtered onto the bus and grabbed cold water bottles from a cooler in the first row. They didn’t look at all like the clean-cut, suited-up team that had competed at the tournament in Tucson earlier that day. Dust stained their faces. Their clothes hung disheveled and smeared with brown dust and dirt. Some looked like baseball players who had slid into home one too many times. The bus smelled of dry dust and sweat. Tyler couldn’t wait to take a shower when he got home.

  Julia rushed down the aisle to find a seat, grinning over at Tyler when she passed him. He still didn’t have the nerve to ask her to the dance. José, Daniela, and Sha’relle all climbed aboard. L.J. limped by, then Ethan. Tyler purposely stared out the window as Ethan came down the aisle.

  Outside, Mr. Dwyer shook hands with the new bus driver. As he climbed aboard, he helped Kevin to a seat. Before leaving, the paramedics had said Kevin would need to see a doctor, but his injuries weren’t permanent. They gave him a clean, wet cloth to press against his eyes for the trip back.

  Mr. Dwyer stood at the front of the bus with a relieved grin on his face. “We were finally able to contact the school. Your families have all been informed of what happened and are waiting for us to get back.”

  Daniela held her phone in the air. “I just got service! I’m texting my moms.” Several students cheered while others checked their own phones for service.

  “Can I sit here?”

  Tyler had been so focused on texting his parents as well that he hadn’t even noticed Ethan standing in the aisle next to his seat. “Huh?”

  “I said, can I sit here?”

  “Oh. Uh, sure?” Tyler removed his backpack from the seat beside him and shoved it underneath.

  “Thanks.” Ethan slid into the seat and stored his bag underneath it too.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes as the bus finally took off. Tyler bit his fingernail and glanced out the window.

  Eventually Ethan cleared his throat and said, “Everyone screws up, you know?”

  “I thought you were mad at me,” Tyler replied quietly.

  “Mad? Why?”

  “You know. For letting the team down.”

  “Hey, that could have happened to any of us.”

  “Anyone?” Tyler asked.

  They both looked back at L.J. Then they looked at each other for a moment and then cracked up.

  “Okay,” Ethan admitted. “Anyone but him.”

  “What about before? You and L.J.—you were laughing and pointing at me.”

  “What?” Ethan looked at L.J. again and furrowed his eyebrows, trying to remember the earlier conversation. “Oh, that.” He swatted a hand in the air. “That wasn’t about you. I was asking him about next week’s calculus test.”

  “Really? So you weren’t avoiding me?”

  “Uh, no. I thought you might want some space on the ride home after what happened.” Ethan smiled at the shocked look that must have been all over Tyler’s face. “You know, not everything revolves around you.”

  “I know that.” Tyler had gotten himself so bummed out, but they hadn’t been making fun of him. They hadn’t been talking about him at all.
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  “Dude, did you really think I would sit there and make fun of you?”

  Tyler’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Instead of answering, he asked, “You up for playing Injustice tonight?”

  “Ah, nice speech technique: changing the subject. I’d give that a ten for creativity and poise.” Ethan grinned again and shook his head at Tyler. “Okay, Injustice. Tonight. My house. I’ll make the popcorn. You bring the soda.”

  “Deal. I’ll be over after dinner.” Tyler felt the corners of his mouth tug upward. They were going to be okay. Even though Tyler had screwed up, he still had his best friend. But he didn’t have a date to the dance.

  15

  When the replacement bus pulled into the school parking lot, the team parents were huddled together, some holding coffee cups. Most of them rushed toward the bus when it approached the curb. Tyler searched the crowd for his mom or dad, looking for either of their cars. He was surprised to see that they were standing together.

  The bus stopped and the driver opened the front door. Mr. Dwyer climbed out first and stood outside the bottom of the steps, fist-bumping each student stepping off the bus. Daniela was the first one off the bus. She opened her arms to greet the fresh air. Sha’relle pushed past her and headed right to her mom. Tyler saw Kevin standing with his grandparents, pointing at his eyes and looking as if he was retelling the incident when storm sand got in his eyes. José walked nonchalantly off the bus, but he rushed over to his dad and step-mom as soon as he saw them. L.J. limped down, his ankle still swollen.

  The other kids filtered to their waiting families. Julia, Ethan, and Tyler were the last ones off the bus. Mr. Dwyer held up a fist for Tyler, but then Tyler remembered the painful cut on his hand and fist-bumped with his left one instead.

  Tyler’s mom and dad hugged him at the same time when he finally made his way over to them. He’d never been so glad to see them. “We’re so glad you’re all right,” said his mom as she hugged him again. “They said over the radio that you helped perform CPR?”

  Tyler nodded. “Well, I helped Ethan keep count. I couldn’t do the CPR myself because of the asthma . . . and I sort of hurt my hand.”

  His mom gasped, reaching for the hand still wrapped up in Julia’s scarf, which was now covered in dried blood and dust.

  “I’m fine, Mom,” he insisted. “It’s just a scratch.”

  “You know,” his dad said to his mom with a smile, “he’s turning into quite the young man—and I’d still say that even if his speech team hadn’t gone to the State Championship.”

  “We’ve got a pretty great kid,” his mom agreed. Tyler felt his mouth spread into a grin again. The joy of seeing his parents getting along gave him a spark of courage. He wanted to catch Julia before she headed home. He quietly ducked away while his parents kept talking.

  Tyler searched the crowd. Where was she? Then he spotted her short brown hair and brightly-colored messenger bag. She was walking through the parking lot with her mom.

  “Hey, Julia! Wait up!”

  She turned around and pushed up her glasses. Even though her hair was disheveled and her clothes were covered in dust, she still looked cute to him.

  Tyler jogged across the parking lot.

  “Hey,” she said, smiling.

  “Well, we made it.” Tyler shifted nervously on his feet.

  “Yeah,” she laughed. “We did.”

  “Come on, Julia,” her mom called.

  Julia turned and said, “Give me a minute.” She sighed and turned back to Tyler. They stood there another moment. Julia chewed her bottom lip.

  “How’s your hand?” she pointed at his blood-soaked bandage.

  “I’ll put some antiseptic on it as soon as I get home. I’ll be fine. It’s already starting to feel better, thanks to your bandage,” he said, even though the cut still burned.

  “I’m glad,” she said, smiling.

  “I can get it back to you if you want . . . ”

  “No, that’s okay,” Julia lifted her hands and laughed. Tyler had to admit, it was pretty gross now. “I really don’t need it.”

  She kept smiling at him. That had to be a good sign, right?

  “Do you like to eat?” Tyler burst out. He shook his head. “I mean, uh, what do you like to eat?”

  “Oh. Um. I like Italian. Pizza. Pasta.” Julia rocked on her heels. “Why?”

  “I thought . . . maybe we could go eat something—together—sometime.”

  After a moment, she said, “I’d like that.” Tyler couldn’t help but grin. So she does like me! he thought to himself. Julia paused another moment. “Well, I have to go.” She motioned toward her mom’s car. “My mom’s waiting.”

  Tyler looked around her at her mom, who was watching them. Julia turned and started to leave. It’s now or never. He mustered his courage.

  “Wait!” Tyler said, a little more loud and desperate than he had wanted to sound.

  “Yeah?” Julia shifted her bag onto her other shoulder.

  Tyler stood there. He scratched the back of his head. “Um . . . ” For the second time today, he couldn’t find his words. This wasn’t at all how he’d wanted this to go. “I’m sorry,” he said hastily and laughed. Well, this isn’t going well.

  Julia smiled again and touched his arm. “Would you want to go to Spring Fling together?” she said.

  Tyler stood there, dumbfounded. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his eyebrows shot up.

  “We could go with a group,” she quickly added. “Two of my friends are already going. It’ll be fun!”

  Tyler exhaled. “Yeah,” he said. He cleared his throat. “Yes, I would love that.” He was glad she hadn’t said they could just go as friends. That left the door open.

  “Great. So I’ll talk to you at school on Monday?”

  “Yeah. Definitely,” Tyler said. He watched her walk to her car and get in. Her mom glanced over at Tyler and waved from the open window. Tyler waved back as his face heated up. It seemed like he had a real chance with Julia now, with their first date and Spring Fling coming up. He was ready to give it his best shot. His dad’s words echoed again: You appreciate things more if you have to earn them.

  Then Tyler had a sudden burst of energy and jogged back to where his mom and dad were still talking.

  They turned to Tyler as he walked up.

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  His parents were smiling knowingly at each other. “What was that about?” His dad’s eyes flashed over to where Julia’s mom’s car was pulling out of the lot.

  “Nothing. I’ll tell you later,” Tyler said, wishing the flush in his cheeks would go away. “Can we go home now? I’m starving.”

  “Absolutely,” said his dad. “You can tell us everything over dinner. Your mom’s going to join us, if that’s okay.”

  “Yeah, I mean, sure. That’s okay by me,” Tyler said, trying to seem nonchalant about it despite the grin taking over his face again.

  He slid into the front seat of his dad’s car, watching as his mom’s SUV pulled up behind theirs to follow them out of the parking lot.

  Now Tyler had better things to focus on than his mistake at State or even this disaster of a day. His team had survived a dust storm, his parents were getting along, and he was going to the Spring Fling dance. This was going to be an awesome spring.

  About the Author

  Kristin F. Johnson lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and teaches writing at a local college. She spent two years as a media specialist and children’s librarian in Minneapolis Public Schools. In 2013 and again in 2015, she won Minnesota State Arts Board Artist Initiative grants for her writing. She loves dogs and has a chocolate Labrador retriever.

 

 

 
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