Just Another Maniac Monday

by Jennie Marts

  Feeling bold, gaining courage from his obvious pleasure, she picked up his hands and guided them to her breasts. Gasping at his touch, she leaned her head back, arching her back against his firm grip. Her hips moved again, in rhythm with the way his hands kneaded her breasts, breathless as his fingertips brushed against her erect nipples.

  As if unable to take another moment of the sweet torture, Johnny raised up and, with strong arms, flipped her over and underneath him. His lips crushed hers, and she felt his fingers fumbling with the clasp of her shorts. He shed his jeans and rose above her, finally freeing the zipper and tugging her shorts and swimsuit bottoms down her legs.

  Then he was against her, his bare skin touching every part of her naked body. She couldn’t get enough of him. Her arms wrapped around him, and she pulled him tightly to her, gripping his shoulders, scratching at his back.

  Rejoicing in his moans of want, she shifted under him, enticing him with her movements and tempting him with the glory of her body.

  His lips were everywhere. Moving from her throat to her breast. Nibbling and sucking. His mouth taking as his hands touched and squeezed. Fondled and caressed. His teeth brushed her neck, his breath ragged in her earlobe. “I want you, Eddy. I want you so much. I can’t get enough of you. Of your skin. Of the way you taste. The way you smell. God, you smell amazing.”

  His words sparked a passion inside of her. She wanted this man. Wanted every part of him. Needed to be one with him. To share her body, her soul, her very being. “I want you too, Johnny. I need you. I need you inside of me.”

  And then he was. And she almost wept with relief. And joy. And a love she thought would tear her body apart with the enormity of it.

  He felt so good. Around her. Inside of her. She moved against him, their bodies in perfect rhythm with the beat of their hearts.

  Everything else fell away. The scars of their parents, the weed-choked front yard of the tiny house, the past and the future. Nothing mattered except this moment. This boy and this girl, their bodies wrapped together in a tiny bed with threadbare sheets and a sagging mattress.

  They were oblivious to everything around them. The world melted away, leaving only fragments of time, of motion. Of the sweet, desperate yearning for that moment of connection. Of oneness.

  The unbearable pleasure shattered, leaving them weak and breathless, the sheets tangled around their legs and Johnny’s body collapsed onto hers.

  His voice against her ear, raspy and rough. His words raw with emotion. “You are mine. Now and always. No one will ever love you the way I do. I will love you till the day I die.”

  ##

  An hour later, finally making it to the lake, they lay on the beach, sprawled across the towels that Frank seemed to always have in the back seat of his car. Spent and energized at the same time, Johnny lay on his stomach beside Edna, his eyes closed and one hand resting across her bare stomach. His fingers absently traced circles around her navel, sending delicious shivers arcing through her spine.

  Frank and Weasel had been there for an hour, and Weasel’s cheeks were already tinged with the pink of too much sun.

  “Where’s Donna?” Edna asked Weasel, turning on her side to look at the boy as she passed him a tube of sunscreen.

  “Had to work at the bank today. She’s gonna meet us at the drive-in later, though.” He squirted some sunscreen in his hands and rubbed it into his cheeks.

  Donna worked at the First State Bank of Coopersville as a teller and had been putting in more hours lately to fill in for another employee who was out on vacation. She and Edna had formed a cordial and, at times, even pleasant friendship. Edna had continually worked to win the other girl over, anxious to have a girlfriend to share stories with, and she thought Donna might be softening to her a little.

  The four friends languished on the beach. Johnny, Edna, and Frank played in the water, soaking up the summer sunshine.

  By mid-afternoon, the feel of the air changed as heavy thunderclouds rolled in and darkened the sky. A flash of lightning lit the sky, followed by a crack of thunder a minute later.

  “We’d better pick up our stuff and get out of here,” Johnny said. “Looks like a storm is moving in.”

  Frank was already gathering their towels and empty pop bottles. Edna could feel the urgency in their movements. She pulled on her shorts and reached for her top. “What’s the big deal, guys? So what if it rains? We’re already at the beach; it’s not gonna hurt us if we get a little wet.”

  Johnny tossed her the towels and stuffed his feet into his engineer boots. Edna would have laughed at the sight of him in his swim trunks and boots if he didn’t have such a serious look on his face.

  He reached for her hand. “This isn’t that kind of storm, Edna. If you were from Kansas, you would know. You can feel it in the air. We need to get back to your aunt’s farm. Right now.”

  Another flash of lightning. This one closer, the crack of the thunder following within seconds.

  Frank and Weasel ran up the beach and threw their things in the car. Johnny and Edna followed on their heels. Frank grabbed for the convertible top, pulling it up and over the seats. A loud siren filled the air. Johnny and Frank exchanged grim looks.

  “What’s going on?” Edna cried, the intensity of the boys and the shrill sound of the siren creating a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. “You’re scaring me.”

  Johnny’s normal good-natured tone was gone, replaced by a commanding one as he shouted out orders. “Weasel, you go with Frank. You guys head to town. We’ll take the bike and try to get to Miss Janice. We need to warn her if she hasn’t heard the siren.”

  “I need to get to the bank and check on Donna. She freaks out in storms like this,” Weasel said, securing his side of the convertible top and climbing into the front seat.

  “I’ll drop you by the bank. I need to find my mom and make sure she gets to the basement.” Frank looked at Johnny. “You sure you wanna take the bike? You can come with us, and I’ll bring you back out later.”

  “I’m sure. I can cut through a couple of fields, and we can get to the farm quicker. I want to be able to help Janice if she needs it.” Johnny waved Frank away and grabbed Edna’s hand, pulling her to the bike. “We gotta go. That siren means there’s a tornado coming.”

  A tornado? But how? They’d just been swimming and lying in the sun less than half an hour ago. How could the weather change so quickly? And that drastically? Edna’s heart raced as she climbed onto the back of the bike and secured her arms around Johnny’s waist.

  He gunned the engine of the bike, gravel spitting as they peeled out of the lake’s parking area and sped down the dirt road toward Janice’s farm.

  Fat droplets of rain began to fall.

  “Hold on,” Johnny yelled above the sound of the wind. He turned off the road into a field, and the bike bounced through the ruts of a tractor-made path.

  Edna tightened her arms around his waist, her teeth clacking together as they hit a bump in the field. They flew through the pasture and came out the other side, the bike losing momentum as it climbed the slope of the ditch lining the road.

  They were on the highway now, and the leaves from the cottonwood trees lining the road flew in their faces. The big trees swayed as the wind kicked up another notch. A branch broke off a tree and fell to the road in front of them.

  Johnny swerved to avoid the fallen limb, leaning his body to counterbalance the tilt of the bike. Edna screamed as an oncoming truck honked and veered off the side of the road, narrowly missing the motorcycle.

  The rain was falling harder now and whipped into their cheeks as they sped down the road. Edna was soaked to the skin, shivering against Johnny’s back. Her hands shook as she held on to Johnny’s waist, trying to mimic his movements as he leaned with the motion of the bike.

  Her aunt’s farm was in sight. Johnny took his hand from the handlebars for just a moment and pointed at the sky behind the farmhouse. He gunned the engine. The bike burst forward with a
jolt of speed that rivaled the beating of Edna’s heart as she saw the monstrous black funnel cloud filling the sky and bearing down on the farm.

  Leaning against the turn, mud flying against their bare legs, the motorcycle banked the corner into the driveway as Johnny tore down the dirt drive. He braked in front of the house, the wheels spinning, and for half a second, Edna was afraid that he had lost control and they were going to crash. He leaned back and drew the bike to a shuddering stop.

  He and Edna jumped off, and he dropped the bike to the ground. Running toward the barn, Edna searched frantically for her aunt as she screamed her name. The gusting wind and rain soaked up her cries and the panic inside of her built with the force of the storm.

  The windmill above her head shrieked. The sound of tearing metal was deafening as the blades tore loose and the head of the windmill flew through the air. It crashed into the side of the barn, wood splintering, pieces of metal and wood flying through the air, picked up by the intense wind.

  Relief flooded Edna as she saw her aunt run from around the side of the barn, a pink pig cradled in her arms. Penny ran beside her, barking at the storm. Edna ran to her aunt. She threw her arms around her, not daring to imagine the possibility of something happening to Janice.

  “We need to get to the storm cellar,” Janice yelled above the din. She pointed toward the side of the house, where Johnny was already wrestling to lift the door set into the ground. The fierce wind and rain worked against him as he pulled on the door, slamming it down each time he lifted it a few inches.

  The women ran to the shelter. Edna stepped in beside Johnny and grabbed the handle of the door. Her hands were below his and her muscles strained as she lifted with all of her might.

  Between the two of them, they raised the door just enough for the wind to get under it. Johnny knocked her hands free and pushed her back as the door flew open, slamming into the ground, the wooden frame cracking with the impact.

  Janice ran down the cellar stairs, the dog on her heels. Johnny grabbed Edna’s hand and thrust her ahead of him into the dark pit of the storm cellar.

  The storm raged and howled above them as Johnny fought to pull the cellar door closed. The sky was black and thick with clouds, tumbling and twisting against each other. Edna screamed as a flash of lightning lit the sky above Johnny’s head, and thunder followed immediately in its wake.

  Johnny managed to gain purchase on the door, and it slammed closed, knocking him down the few steps into the cellar. Edna heard him clamber up the steps to bolt the latch, securing the door.

  The storm cellar was pitch black and shut out some of the noise of the raging storm. Edna heard crying and realized the sound was coming from her as her chest heaved and pitched, trying to suck in air as she cried from a terror she had never before felt in her life. She felt Johnny’s arms around her, and she clung to him with one hand and reached for her aunt with the other.

  “It’s all right, Edna.” Aunt Janice spoke in the dark. “We’re going to be okay. This is the safest place for us to be.”

  A shudder passed through Edna as she tried to calm her breathing. The wind and storm seethed above them, shaking the door of the cellar as if trying to get in and snatch one of them out. A moment later, a plank from the wooden door was ripped free, letting in a shaft of dim light as it was sucked into the air above them.

  Through the hole in the door, they could see the wind swirling and knew the tornado was right on top of them. Debris spun through the black funnel. Edna recognized one of the white rockers from her aunt’s porch as it flew by.

  The noise was like nothing Edna could have ever imagined or described. The fury of the storm’s wrath was unbiased in its destruction, obliterating everything in its path. Screaming and howling in a rage as it tore through the landscape of the farm.

  Nothing was safe. Edna saw a flash of green paint as a tractor swirled by in the funnel above their heads. The ferocity of the actual tornado lasted for only minutes as it passed through Aunt Janice’s farm, but it felt like hours as they waited, huddled together in the dark, the smell of rain and the dirt of the cellar walls mingling in the air.

  The wind and rain stopped as if suddenly turned off by a switch. It was eerily quiet as Johnny climbed the cellar steps and threw back the latch of the door.

  “Wait! Don’t go out there!” Edna screamed.

  Her aunt’s arm came around her shoulders in reassurance. “It’s okay, Edna. It’s over now.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’ve lived in Kansas my whole life. This isn’t the first tornado I’ve seen, and since God let me live through this one, it probably won’t be the last.” She still held the pig in her arms, and it snuffled against her shoulder. She put her foot on the cellar steps and accepted Johnny’s hand as he reached down to help her. The Collie ran up the stairs and out into the yard. “Come on. Let’s go assess the damage.”

  Edna blinked as she followed her aunt up the steps and out into the daylight. Speech escaped her as she took in the destruction around her. The house stood intact and untouched in front of her, but the barn was just simply gone. As if the huge red building had never been there in the first place.

  Debris and fallen branches littered the driveway. The green tractor Edna thought she saw in the funnel cloud now hung from the boughs of a tall cottonwood tree next to the headless windmill.

  Lady, Aunt Janice’s favorite mare, came galloping around the edge of the house, scared but otherwise unharmed. Had it only been a few hours ago that Edna had cleaned out her stall and laid fresh hay on the barn floor that no longer existed?

  A large swath of field lay flattened behind the barn, evidence of the path of the tornado. Looking across the pasture, they could see that the neighboring farm stood intact.

  Stunned, the three stood speechless, taking in the scene around them. They had come so close to being casualties of the destruction. If Johnny hadn’t have cut through that field, if that fallen branch had delayed them, if they had been only three minutes later, they might have been too late. The implications of those thoughts overwhelmed her, and Edna’s knees threatened to buckle.

  She shook her head, unable to grasp the enormity of what had just happened. She reached out to her aunt. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Janice. What will we do?”

  Janice set the pig down and pulled Edna into her embrace. “It’s all right, honey. We’ll do what we always do. First, we thank the good Lord that we’re all alive and nobody got hurt, then we pick up the mess and go on. A barn is wood and nails. It can be rebuilt. Nothing can replace you.” She reached for Johnny and drew him into the hug. “Or this one either. I am so glad that you’re both okay.”

  Edna’s eyes filled with tears at the tremor of emotion she heard in her aunt’s voice, and she snuggled against her. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was so scared that you would be out in a field or something and we wouldn’t be able to find you.”

  “I was,” Janice said. “I’d been down in the southwest pasture repairing a fence line, and I ran out of wire. I’d just started back to the house when I heard the tornado siren go off. By the time I got to the barn and grabbed Mazie, I could see the funnel cloud coming across the field.”

  “It looks like the tornado headed for town,” Johnny said. “I need to go check on my dad.”

  “I’m worried about the town, as well,” Janice said, heading for the truck. “We’ll all go in and see if there’s anything we can do to help.”

  Johnny looked around. “I need to find my motorcycle. It doesn’t seem to be where I left it.”

  Edna spotted the motorcycle against the house, resting between the porch and a pink peony bush. “There it is. Thank goodness the tornado didn’t take it.”

  Johnny found a loose plank from the barn and used it as a ramp to wheel his bike into the bed of Janice’s blue pickup. Penny jumped in and settled against the cab.

  Janice shrugged and reached for the pig, who seemed to follow her everywhere. “Well, there’s n
o barn to leave her in, so I guess the pig’s coming with us too.”

  They drove slowly into town, assessing the damage to neighboring farms as they went. Edna gasped as she saw the extent of the destruction.

  The tornado had gone through the edge of the town, touching down in random spots, destroying one building and leaving the one next to it undamaged. Dozens of townspeople wandered the streets, either pitching in to help or walking aimlessly in shock, glazed expressions on their faces.

  Frank’s family’s car dealership had been left untouched, but the insurance agency next to it was destroyed. One of the cars from the lot had been lifted in the tornado and lay upside down in the middle of the insurance office destruction, its shiny red paint now covered in dust and mud.

  Multiple cars lay on their sides, and fires burned sporadically up and down the street. An upside-down modular home lay diagonally over the top of the demolished hair salon, a blue sofa sticking up out of a crack in the home’s walls.

  The windows were down, and the sound of multiple sirens filled the cab of the truck. Edna stared at the debris. The fallen homes and businesses. How could the ambulance or fire engines know where to respond to first? How could they judge the need of one family’s despair over another?

  The bank was on this side of town and now stood in a pile of rubble, the steel vault the only thing standing amidst the broken planks of what had been the bank’s lobby. Edna said a silent prayer that Donna had not been in the building during the tornado.

  Chapter Nine

  “I had never witnessed anything so terrible in all of my life,” Edna said. She looked around the table at the Page Turners and wasn’t surprised to see Cassie wiping a tear from her face.

  “So,” Piper said, “was she all right? Was Donna in the bank when the tornado hit?”