Something in a Storm

It’s going to happen. I just know it. The air is electric, super charged, and sparking all around me. The breeze brushes up against my skin causing my arm hair to rise up. How strange. I’m looking in to the distance over the trees at the end of the meadow and there is a wall of blackness moving in while covering the grey misty sky.

If it’s cold, I can’t feel it. My senses are focused on the advancing cloud. Is that what it is? Not like any cloud I’ve ever seen before. Nothing passes through it. It blocks out all light behind it. Moving at a leisurely pace, it seems in no hurry, but still will be over me soon.

I should be frightened, but I’m not, and don’t know why. Instead, anticipation is coursing through my body. Sizzling from my toes to my fingertips. It wants to connect. I want to be whole and be wired in again. I find myself walking towards the advancing darkness.

“Blake! What the hell are you doing?”

The voice cuts through me. I stop walking.

“Get back here, are you crazy?”

Turning, I see her. She’s bundled up in a jacket with a look of concern. I don’t know why, there’s nothing to fear.

“Shelly, this is incredible. Can’t you feel it?”

“All I feel is cold, very cold.”

“Feel the fire, the electricity. It’s crackling all around us.”

“You’re talking all weird. That storm or whatever it is looks dangerous. We need to get out of here, Find some shelter now.”

“No, there’s something there. It’s waiting for me. I need to see it. Don’t you sense it also?”

“The only thing I’m sensing is that you’ve flipped out. Standing out here in the open with those thunderclouds moving in. You might as well be holding a long metal pole and waiting for the lightning to strike.”

“No, no. I’m perfectly safe, it means no harm.”

“Means you no harm?” She’s incredulous. “You’re talking as if that thing, that storm, is a person or something. It’s just a brainless act of nature, and a dangerous one at that.”

“Have you ever seen anything like it before? It’s beautiful. How can it be dangerous?”

“We’ve got to go. You’re not yourself. Not seeing things clearly. We’ve got to get inside now!”

She tries to grab me and move me towards the house only a hundred yards away. I’m stronger and break away from her grasp still moving towards the approaching wall. Defeated, she gives up with tears in her eyes as a light rain starts to fall. I love her but still have to go. There’s an urgency to stand under the cloud.

“Look, Sherry. I know you don’t understand. That you think I’m crazy. I love you, but I have to do this……” My voice trails off, I don’t know what to say. How to explain the unexplainable.

“Don’t, please don’t. You’re going to die. Please don’t.” She crying now. Helpless to stop me.

It’s really pouring down now, her blond hair is soaked. Blue, bloodshot eyes plead their case, but I can’t stop. Heart broken and forlorn. I can’t bear it anymore, tears are streaming down my face, but I have to go. I don’t understand any more than she does. The calling is thundering in my ears.

“I love you, I’ll be fine, you’ll see” I croak out as I turn and run. There’s no looking back now. Something in the storm is telling me to hurry.

The rain is coming down like a shower at full blast while a wind is rising fast. I’m running now, There is a sense of urgency as it’s getting darker all around me.

The wind suddenly shifts. It’s coming from behind me. How can that be? Blowing towards the approaching wall instead of away from it. The force of the gusts become almost enough to blow me over. I stop running and extend my arms for balance as I am falling, but instead I am being raised off the ground. At first terrified, but slowly an amazement takes over.

I’m actually flying or so it seems. Not on my own accord but rather from the force of the wind behind me. It raises me further and further off the ground towards the blackness ahead and now well over the meadow. Then above the tree line at the edge of the meadow. Higher and higher, but my fear of heights hasn’t kicked in. I’m euphoric like when I remember the dreams I had in childhood. Soaring above everything, then into the blackness before me.

Suddenly all is black, I can’t see, but know I am still rising up. Still flying. There’s a little fear now because of the void and sudden loss of direction. Just the strangeness and impossibility of it all is almost overwhelming. But there is no choice involved now. I can’t stop what is happening even if I tried my best. Even if I wanted to. And now a voice inside me saying it’s all right. Saying this is how it should be. How it needs to be. I’m feeling calmer.

Then, I am out of the blackness and into almost blinding light. It’s like those “out of body” and near death experiences I’d read about. But I’m not floating or gliding anymore. There’s a solid surface under my feet although my eyes are still having to adjust to the brightness after the dark. The calm continues. A feeling of safety, like a sedative, and still the hidden voice telling me not to be afraid. I’m lethargic and feeling slow to move but not concerned. At peace even though I don’t know where I am.

Within what seems like a few minutes, although I can’t tell, Shelly is suddenly there. She is freaked out, like the calming voice hadn’t spoken to her or if it had, then she wasn’t buying it. I moved to her and hugged her tightly.

“It’s alright, I’m here. We’re alright, we’re alright.”

“But…… but….” Her voice is trembling and she’s shaking. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know, but we survived. That is I think we survived unless this is the afterlife”

“The afterlife, you mean heaven? This doesn’t feel like it. Where is God?”

“All those stories about things like this and the bright light and calm feeling like you are loved, seem to point to heaven. Maybe this is the waiting room?”

Now, I got a little smile from her, although she is still trembling a little. God, I love her.

We hear them before seeing them. It’s a scraping noise like something heavy dragged on a metal floor. Then we see them and I realize we aren’t in Kansas anymore, or heaven for that matter.

Suddenly, Sara heard a knock at the door. Peering out the peephole, she realized it was the landlord, Mrs. Branson, from across the hall. As Sara opened the door, she saw Mrs. Branson holding a damp handkerchief, wiping it across the curly hair plastered to her forehead.

Continuing to wipe the perspiration from her forehead, Mrs. Branson asked, “Do you have any electricity?”

“No, it just went off. It’s these rolling blackouts that the electric company has started. There seem to be more of them every day.”

Sara noticed Mrs. Branson’s anxious look as she said, “I have a battery-operated radio that we might be able to use to get some news.”

After Mrs. Branson retrieved her radio and placed it on the kitchen table, Sara turned the knob until they heard a robotic voice announcing, “This is not a test. This is the Emergency Broadcast Network. Please stay inside and keep your doors locked. There have been reports of break-ins in the area. Take all necessary precautions.”

Just as the radio announcement stopped broadcasting, Sara heard a thump from the stairs to the roof. “Mrs. Branson, did you hear that?”

With fear emanating from her eyes, Mrs Branson whispered, “No, No… I didn’t hear anything.”

Putting her finger up to her lips, Sara mouthed, “Listen.”

Thump, Thump.

With growing concern, Sara asked, “Did you lock the roof door, Mrs. Branson?”

She wrung the handkerchief and answered, “Yes, I think I did. I don’t know! It’s this heat. I can’t think straight!”

The sound from the stairs seems to be getting closer. Sara quickly checked to see if the door was bolted shut. As she listened at the door, she could hear a desperate voice coming from outside, “Can you help me? I need some water. I can pay you money.”

Holding their mouths with their hands, they crouched by the door, their backs pressing solidly against it. Afraid to breathe hard, Sara and Mrs. Branson remained quiet, hoping the man would leave if he thought no one was home. After hearing the doorknob rattle, they knew the man was attempting to force open the door. The sound of the man’s body slamming against the door echoed through the apartment, but the door held. After a long silence, they finally heard footsteps gradually moving away.

Once they were assured the man had left, Mrs. Branson’s eyes stared at the picture Sara had been working on this morning. Almost screaming, she asked, “Why are you painting the sun?” The sun’s yellow and oranges always occupy all the space in the sky. That’s all we see daily; paint something cool, a waterfall, mountains covered in snow, a night sky full of stars.”

“Why didn’t we leave like some of the others, Sara? Maybe it’s not too late.”

Sara didn’t look at her. “Because leaving would only postpone the evitable.”

Mrs. Branson exhaled deeply. “We could try.”

Sara turned to Mrs. Branson in exasperation. “Try what? The freeways are clogged with stalled and deserted cars. The gas stations ran out of gas weeks ago. The trains have stopped running. Even if we walked out, we couldn’t survive this heat.” She gestured to the blinding light outside.

Mrs. Branson strode out the apartment door without a word. Sara couldn’t help but think, “Maybe she shouldn’t have been so brutally honest, but how would lying about the situation help?”

The following day, Sara heard a timid knock on the door. She profusely opened the door to Mrs. Branson, apologizing, “I’m sorry, Sara, for just walking out without saying goodbye.”

Sara grabbed Mrs. Branson’s hand and led her over to her easel. On the easel was a painting of blue water running over a waterfall, splashing onto the gray rocks beneath.

“I did it for you, Mrs. Branson.”

“Oh, it is beautiful. I visited a waterfall like this once when I was a child. I used to stand under the waterfall, letting its cool spray surround me. I can feel it now, the water splashing on my face.” Mrs. Branson started twirling around as if she was reenacting this moment from her childhood.

Suddenly, as she was dizzy, Mrs. Branson fell to the floor. When she didn’t move, Sara bent over Mrs. Branson’s prostrate body to feel for a pulse. Sara felt an inner acceptance as she realized Mrs. Branson was gone.

It was as if, with Mrs. Branson’s death, the air in the room became heavy. Sara listened intently as the air conditioner and the fan uttered their final sound. She felt the sun blazing through the window with a harsh, intense light. Sara stared at the thermostat as it crept higher and higher. She noticed the paint of her waterfall dripping down her painting in rivulets, the blues and grays swirling together, causing the waterfall to feel as if it was in motion.

Sara heard a deep, slow creaking as she watched the paint begin to bubble and seep down the walls. The room was getting hotter and hotter, and the thermometer quit registering the temperature. Outside, the sky burned white, and the world began to melt.

Pictures

When Canada becomes the 51st state, which city will you move to, and why?

I will stay right where I am and do everything to support the insurgents that will be playing Hell with American infrastructure. If they think Afghanistan was hard, wait until the enemy look and sound just like them.

If I were 30 or 40 years younger, I would form part of the insurgency.

I live in the U.S. and always hear about how affordable or free health insurance is in other countries, but I also hear how it is next to impossible to get treatments and appointments. How truthful is this in your country?

My father (in Sweden) succumbed to a rare form of blood cancer. He was around 80 when diagnosed and for two years until his passing he received stellar care, extremely expensive chemo, biweekly blood transfusions, a private room when hospitalized, free transport to and from any health related appointment (including highly specialized experts outside the region they lived), and in the late stages of his illness, a hospital bed with equipment and staff in my parent’s home. I can’t even begin to imagine the total cost of everything he received.

It was speedy and, more importantly, caring and humane.

Creole Honey Roasted Chicken

Ingredients

• 2 tablespoons butter
• 1 envelope spaghetti sauce mix
• 1 (8 ounce) can tomato sauce
• 1/2 cup honey
• 1 chicken, cut up (or favorite pieces)

Instructions

1. Place chicken in a baking dish.
2. Melt butter and stir in spaghetti sauce mix, tomato sauce and honey.
3. Pour over chicken and bake in moderate oven until done, turning chicken over and basting with sauce mixture halfway through baking.