by Nicole James
Steve was in the living room, watching the evening news. Summer was sitting on the couch, looking through a recipe book. The weather report came on, and Steve sat forward on the edge of the easy chair, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped between them.
“Steve, what do you think about pot roast for dinner tomorrow?” Summer asked, still thumbing through the pages, not looking up at him.
“Quiet!” he snapped.
She looked up, startled and then followed his eyes to what was on the screen. A weatherman was standing in front of a radar display.
“We’re seeing a large series of storms forming to the west and moving in sometime in the next couple of days. This is a large front, with possible hail and severe winds. Computer models are showing this tracking east, southeast and crossing the state line late Thursday, early Friday. Of course, folks, that’s two days out and things could change. We’ll be keeping a close eye on this. Jim, back to you…”
Steve jumped up and headed to the kitchen. Summer followed him, standing in the doorframe between the kitchen and dining room, the forgotten cookbook clasped to her chest. He picked up the receiver off the wall phone and punched in a number.
“Did you see it?” he asked without preamble when the person on the other end picked up. He turned, pacing. “I know. Tomorrow, first light…and see if you can get the Collins kid.” He ran his free hand through his hair and his eyes met Summer’s. “Okay, thanks.”
He hung up the receiver and brushed past her. She turned and watched him walk over to Pop’s downstairs bedroom. He knocked on the door and opened it a crack. She heard him say something to Pop in a low voice and then close the door. He headed back past her and into the mudroom. He was putting his jacket on when she stopped him.
“Steve, where are you going?”
He turned around. “Storm’s coming. We start bringing in the crop tomorrow at dawn. We’ll probably be at it around the clock for the next couple of days. We’ll only have time for sandwiches, if at all, so don’t make any big meals. We won’t have time to come in to eat them.”
“But, you have to rest sometime, and-”
He cut her off. “Summer, look…just do what I say, okay?” He stopped when he saw the look on her face. He walked over to her and put his hands on her upper arms and squeezed gently. “I don’t mean to be sharp with you, babe. I’m just going to need you to do what I tell you. It’s going to be a stressful couple of days, so I’ll apologize ahead of time if I snap at you.” One corner of his mouth pulled up in a hint of a smile. “You with me?”
She nodded and returned his smile. “I’m with you.”
He leaned down and kissed her. “I have to go check the equipment.”
“Okay.”
He turned, jammed his hat on his head, and walked out the door.
Sure to his word, work began at the first streaks of light. Summer made them sausage and biscuit sandwiches to take into the field with them. And she had prepared a couple of thermoses of coffee for them. They were gone all day, never stopping for lunch. When Jessie finally got home from school, it was dinner time and Summer sent her out to the field with sandwiches for them.
All that day and into the next, the men worked.
And the temperature dropped steadily.
Steve had scheduled several trucks to pick up the harvested crop. As soon as one truck was loaded and pulling out the drive, another was pulling in. They would have to store whatever they couldn’t get trucked out, in the shed until the storm passed.
As the second day progressed, the weather was deteriorating rapidly. The skies were darkening and chilly winds were really starting to pick up.
Cary waved the last truck out. The driver had told him that the trucking company had called them off the job because the weather was getting too bad. He glanced to the west acreage. Steve was still out there. He could see the headlights of the harvester dimly glowing in the falling darkness as it slowly made its way across the field.
The banging of the screen door brought his head around, and he saw Summer running across the yard toward him, her body buffeted by the strong gusts, her hair flying around her head.
“Cary!” He knew she’d practically yelled the word, but the wind took most of the sound.
He grabbed her by the arms. “What’s wrong?” he yelled back.
“There’s a tornado crossing the county line. The weather report says it’s headed this way.”
Cary pulled the two-way radio from his belt and put it to his mouth. Pressing the talk button, he yelled into the mouthpiece, “Steve! Can you hear me? There’s a funnel headed this way.” He released the button and waited for a response. There was just the crackling of static. He tried again. “Steve, you need to get to the cellar. There’s a tornado coming!” Again, no response. He looked toward the fields, hoping to see the harvester turning for home. It was still plodding along in the opposite direction, a plume of dust rising behind it, almost obliterating the glow of the headlights. “Damn it!” Cary lifted the radio to try again.
Lightning flashed with a crack, and a moment later thunder boomed around them. Summer ducked her head and let out a little scream. Cary shook her to get her attention. When her eyes were on him, he yelled, “Get back to the house. Get Jessie and Pop, and get to the cellar.”
“But Steve’s still out there,” she yelled back, a terrified look on her face.
“I’ll get him.”
“Cary-”
“I promise, I’ll get him. Now, go!”
She nodded and ran back to the house.
Cary dashed to his pickup, jumping inside. He drove straight across the newly harvested field, the truck bouncing along as he raced toward the giant harvester moving in the distance. When he caught up to it, his truck just behind it, he laid on the horn. The machine just kept moving. Swearing, he threw the truck in park and jumped out. He ran alongside the big harvester with its giant collection bin pulled behind it. Coming even with the cab, he yelled and waived his arms, but Steve either didn’t see him, or was being a stubborn cuss and wasn’t going to stop.
Cary had no choice but to jump up onto the moving equipment and climb to the cab. He yanked the door open.
Steve reared back, startled. “What the fuck are you doing? Have you lost your mind? You don’t jump on moving equipment!”
“Steve, come on! You have to stop!”
Lightning struck close by.
“No! It’s almost done.”
“There’s no time! A tornado is coming!”
“There’s still ten percent of the crop left!”
They yelled back and forth over the howling wind.
“Damn it! Give it up, Steve! The last truck left and the shed in full with what they didn’t have room to take.”
“I can’t. I’ve got to get it all!”
Cary realized he had no choice but to do something drastic. He pulled back and punched Steve in the jaw, knocking him out. Steve slumped over the steering wheel, out cold. Cary jumped to cut the engine and dragged Steve out of the cab and to his pickup. He got him into the truck and tore off toward the house.
Steve began to regain consciousness. He shook his head to clear it. When he realized where he was, he glared at Cary. “Stop the truck! Turn around!”
“Like hell!”
Steve grabbed at the door handle.
“You touch it, and I swear to Christ I’ll knock you out again!”
“Goddamn it!” Steve punched the windshield, a spider web of cracks radiated out from the point of impact.
Cary looked at his windshield. “Thanks, asshole! I’m trying to save you damn life and that’s the thanks I get.” He careened to a stop in the yard behind the house just as the rains started.
They climbed out and Steve immediately began heading toward the barn.
“Steve, come on!” Cary tried to stop him.
“The cows…I’ve got to check the cows.”
“Pop put them in the barn already. Everything’s secure. Come on.’ Cary grabbed S
teve by the fabric of his denim shirt near his shoulder and pulled him toward the house.
The wind was howling now and debris was starting to fly. They were almost to the door when a piece of a dead branch snapped off a tree and went sailing toward them. Cary put his right arm out, but it caught him across the forehead, opening a gash. The two of them kept going and stumbled up the porch stairs and into the house. The power was out, and they made their way through the dark house to the door leading down into the cellar. When the door opened, they saw several flashlights arc around to shine on them. They stumbled down the stairs. Rocky, who was also down in the cellar, began barking.
“Cary, you’re bleeding!” Jessie set her cat down and ran to him.
He touched his forehead and pulled his hand away, seeing the blood on his hand from the dim light from the flashlights. “I’m okay, Jess.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him. His arms came around her. “You okay, baby?” She nodded, her head buried against his chest.
Steve came down the stairs behind Cary.
“Daddy!” Jessie moved from hugging Cary, to hugging her father. He wrapped his arms around her. “I’m fine, honey.” He kissed her forehead.
Cary moved to sit against the wall a few feet from Pop. “You okay, Pops?”
He nodded.
Steve looked over Jessie’s head. “Where’s the Collin’s kid?”
“I sent him home an hour ago, when it started to get bad.”
Steve nodded. “Good.” He stepped away from Jessie, who moved to sit next to Cary, and he walked over and sat next to Summer. “You okay?”
“No, I’m not okay! You scared me to death. We couldn’t get a hold of you on the radio, and you wouldn’t come in.” She glared at him, and then her eyes skated over his face and stopped on his cut lip. “Steve, your lip is bleeding!”
He wiped it with the cuff of his shirt, but didn’t offer an explanation. Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her shaking body against his. “We’re all okay, sweetheart.” She cuddled against him, and he leaned back against the cement wall, beginning to feel the long days catching up with him. He felt every ache in his body.
Rocky lay down at Cary’s side and put his head on Cary’s leg. He patted him. “It’s okay, boy.” Reaching up, he put his arm around Jessie and pulled her close.
The wind howled stronger. They heard what sounded like the screen door being ripped off its hinges. Rocky whimpered and Cary rubbed his back. “Calm down, boy.”
The portable radio crackled with static. A loud roaring noise started outside. The house creaked and groaned under the onslaught of the wind.
Summer huddled closer to Steve.
“We’re safe down here,” he whispered against her head.
It continued for several long minutes. They seemed like hours to Summer. Then suddenly there was a large crack and then what sounded like glass exploding. The house shook. Everyone looked toward the ceiling and door to the upstairs. They could hear a high-pitched whistling of wind coming into the house from somewhere.
Cary pulled Jessie close, covering her head with his arms.
The radio crackled again and was static. The roaring of the wind began to fade slowly. The radio picked the station back up, weak at first, then stronger.
“…moving toward Hamilton now. It should be past Ruby Falls now and passing over Centerville. We have widespread power outages across the tri-county area and this storm isn’t over yet, folks. If you’re in the path of this storm, get to your safe area, either a basement or an interior room or closet. We repeat the National Weather Service has issued a Tornado warning in effect for all of White, Lumpkin, Union, Dawson and Pickens counties…”
It went to static again.
“I think its past,” Steve said. “I’m going up to take a look.”
“I’ll go with you,” Cary offered.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Summer asked.
Steve took a flashlight, went up the stairs and opened the door. He looked around. “It seems quiet.”
Cary followed him up.
Summer could hear them walking around upstairs, and then the back door open. Then she could hear someone going up the stairs to the second floor. They all waited in the cellar for them to come back.
A few minutes later, the door opened again and Steve told them they could come up now.
Summer, Pop and Jessie emerged. It was hard to see anything with the flashlights, but they could immediately feel a breeze of cold air blowing through the house.
Steve was heading out the back door with a flashlight. Summer could see splintered wood where part of the frame had been torn off with the missing screen door. Cary was coming down from upstairs. Summer stopped him. “Cary, that air blowing through, is a window broken up there?”
“Yeah. A tree limb came right through your bedroom window. I’m going out to see how bad it is.” He headed out the back door, as well.
It was still raining. Cary found Steve in the yard behind the house, his flashlight shining upwards toward the roof. Cary turned to look. “Holy crap!”
The old oak tree at the right corner of the house had split, and about a third of the tree was now leaning against the roof with one large limb sticking into Summer’s bedroom window. The top gutter was hanging off, banging against the side of the house in the wind, which was still blowing strong.
“I can’t tell for sure with just this flashlight, but I think it’s just the window and the gutter. I don’t see any structural damage.”
“I don’t think that part of the tree weighed enough to put a hole in the roof,” Cary replied. “We got lucky the whole tree didn’t come down. I think when the storm is over, we can get that part off with a chainsaw.”
The rain increased to a downpour.
“Let’s check the cows and the rest of the buildings,” Steve said, already running toward the barn in the rain. Cary was right behind him.
Summer gathered up some candles and kerosene lamps and soon had the downstairs kitchen aglow. The gas stove still worked, so she lit a burner with a match and started heating up some chili that she had made earlier. She also warmed up some cornbread in the oven.
Soon the guys came back in, carrying a chainsaw and a blue tarp. They headed upstairs to cut the limb coming through the window and cover up the opening to keep the rain from coming in.
When they were through, Summer had a hot meal on the dining room table waiting for them. Cary carried the chainsaw out to the mudroom and set it down. They both washed up and came to the table. There were two kerosene lamps on the buffet and one in the center of the table.
When they were all seated, Steve said grace, with a little more meaning tonight than usual.
They ate in silence. The rain poured down. After everyone finished the chili and cornbread, Summer dug out some leftover pie and ice cream. She figured she’d better use up what was left, before it melted.
Over dessert, Steve looked over at Summer and informed her, “With all the damage, you can’t sleep in your bedroom tonight. So, you take my bed, and I’ll take the couch down here.”
Summer was about to insist that he needn’t give up his bed, but with all that had gone on, she thought it best not to argue with him. She nodded. “Alright.”
She took a moment to study him. He looked exhausted. He’d been working almost around the clock for days now. Looking across the table, she noticed Cary also looked ready to drop. “Cary? Why don’t you stay here tonight? No sense going out in this storm.”
He had been staring at the table. He looked up at her, as if coming out a trance. He took a breath. “Oh, no. I’ll be okay. Thanks, Summer.”
“You’re sure?” she studied him.
“Yeah. I’ll be fine. In fact, I think I’ll head for my bed right now.” He wiped his hand down his face and pushed his plate away. “Thanks for the meal, Summer.”
“You’re welcome.”
He turned to Steve. “You need me to do anything else tonight
, boss?”
Steve looked over at him. “No. No, you get some rest. We’ll have a lot to do tomorrow.”
Cary stood up, pushed his chair in, and started to leave.
“Cary?” Steve called to him.
He turned back.
“Thanks for everything you did tonight,” he said, rubbing his jaw where Cary had slugged him.
Cary smiled back at him. “No problem, boss.”
Steve smiled. “You don’t have to act like you enjoyed it so much.”
“Oh, but I did.” He smiled back and then left.
Summer looked at Steve, curiously. “What was that about?”
At first he wouldn’t meet her eyes, but then finally he looked her dead on. “Sometimes a man just needs some sense knocked into him.”
“Oh, is that how you got the split lip?”
“Maybe,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair.
Summer couldn’t help the grin that pulled on the corner of her mouth as she got up to carry the dishes to the sink. Jessie helped her. When they were through cleaning up, Summer went to the hall closet, pulled out some spare blankets and a pillow, and made up a bed for Steve.
When she came back into the dining room, he was asleep in his chair. She smiled, noting how peaceful he looked. She hated to wake him, but he couldn’t sleep in a chair all night. She touched his shoulder. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath. “Sorry. I must have dozed off.”
“Come on,” she said, pulling him by the hand. She led him to the couch, and he fell on it. She covered him up, and he was asleep before she finished. She brushed the hair back from his brow, wishing she could take some of the worry from him.
Pop went to bed, and Summer and Jessie blew out the candles and took two oil lamps upstairs. When they got to the top, they said good night, and Summer headed to Steve’s room. She walked in and set the lamp on the dresser. She got undressed and slid under the covers. Pressing her face to the pillow, she breathed in. It smelled of him, and that comforted her. She fell asleep almost immediately.
Jessie waited a few minutes to make sure Summer was asleep before she crept down the stairs and out of the house. She quickly ran across the yard to Cary’s house, taking care not to trip over the fallen branches that littered the yard.
