~A Night To Remember~

A Night To Remember

by Meg Jones



    The road wasn't easy. The rain had made the back road muddy, and the wind smacked my vehicle back and forth across the road. But to me it was all exciting. With one eye to the sky and one ear to the radio I drove on, to the blackest center of the storm, which was about five miles south west of our house. "The National Weather Center has issued a sever thunderstorm warning..." They were way behind. Always behind. There was definite, unmistakable action in these black and rolling clouds. Everywhere there was rotation, some quick and steady, some dissipating, some forming cones.
    My first chance and spotting one was to the East, a rugged little funnel, rapidly making it's way towards the ground over a grassy, deserted field that stretched beyond eye's view. On the edge of the field was the road, and on the other side of that, forestry. Pulling the truck to the side of the road, I stepped out into the cold, stinging rain, feeling the wind bite at my bare hands, the rain splash up and into my face. I was on the wrong side. I couldn't get a view of shit from here.
    Realizing this as I got back in the truck, I looked out the right window and watched the funnel descend, lick the ground, ascend, and then descend again. Suddenly and idea came to me. All I had to do was travel west to get a good view. But this road continued going north, so I would for sure lose the tornado. So...
    Jumping back in the truck and tossing the camera in the seat I shifted and gunned the engine, whipping the truck to the right and heard the dirt and grass under my tires as I floored it across the field, windshield wipers darting back and forth but not helping any, the wind picked up and throwing it's might at me, as it tried to stop me from crossing the field. My mind was blank. If I thought about what I was doing, I was freeze and stop right in the path of the tornado.
    So I continued across the field, thrashing about because there were no safety restraints on me, praying that the tornado not pick up speed. But it did. And it didn't bother me. For it shifted from east to north, and was moving away from me. After a few minutes I was out of the rain, just as if I'd stepped into another world, and I could see, see the tornado and the midnight blue coat of rain behind it that'd I'd just drove out of.
    Feeling proud I stepped out and walked around my truck, opened the door and took my camera out. For a second or two I fumbled impatiently, trying to get the thing to turn on. Finally the red button flashed and I stepped back a step or two and began my introduction to the tape, filming my chase vehicle, the one that had ever so proudly got me across the field, and then I turned around to film one of nature's beauties.
    I nearly dropped the camera as I realized something. The tornado was no longer heading North. The bastard had switched. It was now heading right for me, barreling along at about eighty miles an hour, seemingly grinning as if to say 'Ha ha I caught you, and you thought you had out smarted me'. Trying not to panic but doing so anyway, I spun around, flew to my door, jerked it open, threw my camera to the side, and looked up just in time to see a tree limb go sailing by my windshield.
    The tornado was less than a mile away, the black clouds swirling above, the rain tossing about, the now considerably sized tornado heading for what could have been a toy truck in the middle of no where.
    And then something even more terrible happened. My engine died and refused to start. Frantically I turned the key and stomped the gas pedal, only to hear it rev and then die. To my right I could see my end, coming closer and closer every second. One last time I jerked the key forward, slammed my foot on the gas pedal, heard the engine roar to life and then gunned it back across the field, this time with only fear and a promise to my husband in my mind.
    This was not so fun. Every foot I came closer to the road, the tornado cut the distance between me and it into thirds. There was no way I could make it. Where would I go? What if I ran out of gas? Time was closing in on me and I raced a long, seeing the forest in the distance, watching the beast in my side mirrors, watched as the once scrawny thing, multiply into something large and undefeatable.
    The road was close now, about a hundred yards away. Hope began to rise. And then my tires hit the mud of the road and relief flooded through me, but not for long. I wasn't out of the woods yet. Oh no, for as I began to head north, the thing switched paths again, and began to follow me. I couldn't believe it, yet I wasn't shocked. Traveling the road wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. There were holes and mud everywhere, making it difficult to steer. Twice I sent the truck into a 360, and then making a rut as I spun off again. There was a town, a small town, two miles from here. If I could only make it...
    The air conditioner froze my wet cloths to my skin, froze my hands and made my teeth chatter. I was wearing down, as if the storm were taking in my energy. I felt myself weaken, my hands slide down, my eyes grow heavy, my mind drift. My foot loosened on the accelerator. And then Daniel's face came back to me. That poor, pitiful little face, filled with hurt that his wife was abandoning at a time like this.
    Again I pushed the accelerator down to the floor, and felt the truck beneath me spin and skip on the mud below. Releasing a little of the pressure I considered my position. Now one mile from town, I had a chance.
    And then everything in the world seemed to stop. The barreling beast behind me seemed to quiet. But not really. A ditch in the road. I jerked the steering wheel to the left but it was to late. My back tires slid down side ways and sunk into the sticky, knee deep mud. I now faced the monstrous beast ahead of me.
    Sneering uncontrollably it raced at me, growing with all it's debris, black and thick, against my tiny and helpless truck. I tried four wheel drive but it was no use. I was stuck for good. And the tornado would not stop until I was dead.


    And so I sat in my truck, hands gripped to the steering wheel, watching it come at me, thinking of my loved ones, thinking of my promise to Daniel and how I'd lied to him. Thinking about how much I loved him, and how much I loved Lindsay and Darren. How could I let them down by just giving up?
    And then something clicked. If I was going to die, I wasn't going down without a fight. The stupefied mode left and I opened my door, jumped out of my truck and scrambled up the muddy ditch, cutting my hands on the rocks and banging my knees up. Once on my feet I darted to the right and ran for the woods, ran as fast as my lead legs would carry me, ran until my legs went limp and my heart and chest burned, ran until my vision was blurred by the wind and debris swirling around me.
    And I fell. Fell down on the ground, hooked my arms around a tree, and prayed to the higher powers if they existed. The leaves around me swirled, the rain washed over me, drenched me, left me cold and shivering. My head was buried between my arms, my legs sprawled out, my mind numb as I felt the winds pick my up by my feet and lift my up, trying to pull me into the black sky. There was a scrape of metal as my truck was devoured, felt the limbs and dirt drove into my skin as I was whipped up and down like a rag doll, helpless to this devil of a thing.
    A branch hit my shoulder, making me release my grip on the tree in pain. The winds were quick to get me and soon I was airborne, flying through the blackness of the storm, not knowing how or where I was going to die. Suddenly I felt myself fall, fall rapidly, and I hid the ground with a skidding thump, felt my other shoulder jam, my head jerk, and then all lay still and all went black.


When I awoke, the first thing I noticed was the smell of the air, the smell of wet dirt, and more strongly, the smell of pine. The scent invaded my nostrils, choked me, made me gag and gasp for air. I hated the smell. But I was alive. Was this real?
    The pain in my shoulders and ribs told me so. Yes, I was alive, but for how long? I tried to move, but pain kept me still. Every part of my body hurt, my coat was soaked and heavy, my cloths stuck to my skin. There was no blood, but I didn't know about internal bleeding. But I was alive. I had made it after all.
    This time I gritted my teeth and using my arms, pushed myself up, feeling the pain everywhere intensify, feeling my shoulders were definitely out of place, and a couple of ribs were broken. But town was less than a mile away. I would walk.
    I thought of my truck and looked around in the near darkness. No where was it to be seen. And then I remembered, the tornado. All was silent, not even the rustle of the trees. And it had picked up my truck and carried it away. That didn't matter, I had to get to town, had to find someone to take me back to Daniel. I had to see if they were okay.
    Slowly I began limping straight ahead. I had no idea where the tornado had thrown me, but surely it hadn't been far. I was looking for the road. If I found the road I'd be all right. How much time had passed, I wasn't sure. Maybe a few minutes, maybe a few hours.
    It had stopped drizzling now, but the mist still clung to my face, stayed lightly on my mud clotted hair. The soft crunch of my feet on the leaves, the hiss of the remaining rain on the trees, that was all I could hear. And the thumping of my own heart. Surprisingly enough, I wasn't scared. Maybe it was the remaining shock, maybe I was braver than I ever thought. Or maybe it was the thoughts of Darren and Daniel and Lindsay, that occupied my mind so, so that nothing else mattered.
    And then I was out of the woods. My heavy and soaked boots sunk into something soft, mud. I found the road. Surprisingly, there was a moon tonight. Not a cloud in the sky, but the same old normal sky, the one I knew, the one with countless twinkling innocent stars, the ones I had admired for so long.
    Yet tonight I hated the sky. Why was it to look like this? Like nothing had ever happened? Why was it so innocent now? I staggered along bitterly, on the muddy path, taking one painful step after another, hunched over with my right arm tucked into my stomach, and the other hanging loosely at my side. Ahead there was nothing but darkness, and field to the right, and trees to the left.
    Somewhere off in the distance a wolf howled, an owl screeched. But I didn't hear anything. All I heard was the soft rustling of the trees, I was alone yet I was surrounded, I was alive yet I was dead. I was in pain but I was numb. Blindly I fell to the side of the road, felt myself collapse, rolled over, and closed my eyes. I was comfortable here. I waited.


    I opened my eyes and I was in my own room. The sun was shining full and bright, everything was a soft cream color, all pain was gone as I got up out of bed and walked around, a bright, sunny smile on my face.
    Lindsay entered the room and looked at me. I tried to give her a friendly hi, but I found that I could not speak. She sat on my bed and smiled, folding her hands in her lap, eyes always on me. She was happy.
    And yet there was something wrong. I could not move. I could not hug her. I could not talk. In my mind I was frantic, but physically nothing changed. Inside me was like a caged animal, screaming, clawing, trying desperately to get out. And Lindsay never changed.
    My eyes snapped open, everything was blank. I was not in my room, I was still lying helplessly along the side of the road. I was not warm, I was shivering. But one thing remained the same. The caged animal inside of me was still there.
    Hours had passed, the full moon was directly above me now. Nothing made sense. What day was it anyway? Suddenly there was a bright light in my eyes. A bright, warm light that made me relax and let go. Was I dying? I imagined and tried to prepare for afterlife.
    But minutes passed and nothing happened. "Miss are you okay?" Someone was asking me. Who the hell was it? The light was still there. "Damn it, turn off them headlights! You'll blind us all!"
    And then the soft, warm light was gone, but I was not left alone. "Miss?" Came a husky voice with a soft Midwestern accent. To tired to answer, I grunted and tried to move, but my body was like lead. "Hey man, get over here, she's alive!" I tried looking around, but pain kept me still.
    "Miss what's your name?" A different voice asked. Again I grunted. "Oh shut up and load her into the back seat of the truck." A third voice commanded. "And what if she's hurt?" "And what if we leave her here?" There was no reply, only a rustling sound and then hands underneath me, as I felt my body being lifted, felt my ribs grind together, my shoulders shift and pop.
    Slowly I opened my mouth and moaned. I wanted to tell them to put me down and leave me here, but I could say nothing. Carefully I was eased into a warm area, onto a soft seat. The warmth enveloped me, tended my wet cloths, warmed my bones, cast me into a deep sleep in which I enjoyed more than anything I ever had.


    I awoke to complete kayos. Lying on a stretcher, in a pitched tent, among hundreds of other people, some hurt and on stretchers the same as I, some wandering around sipping coffee and tea, and some just plain sitting and staring, the shock never quite letting them go. Not one face was familiar. Not one voice sounded comforting.
    I could pick up bits and pieces of conversation all around me, things horrible like, "Casey family all dead...whole town in complete ruins...vehicles everywhere...Blainsville hit the worst..." My heart skipped and plunged. Blainsville. Daniel. Lindsay. Darren. Home. Gone. For a moment everything vanished. The noise was silenced, time was frozen, as my mouth went dry and my stomach heaved uncontrollably.
    I left them, and they could be gone. My dogs, my house, my husband, my best friend. How were they? I had to find out. But how? With broken ribs and out of place shoulders it was near impossible. Or not.
    In their hurry, they, whoever they was, had left me unstrapped to my stretcher. Quickly I sat up, feeling a surge of sickness as the grinding feeling in my ribs returned, as pain shot through my entire chest, as my back contorted with shoulder pain.
    But none of it mattered. What mattered was getting to Lindsay. And Darren. And Daniel. Hopping off the stretcher I tossed the cotton blanket aside, then thought the better and picked it up and handed it to an elderly couple sitting adjacent to me, who welcomed the warmth and thanked me whole heartedly.
    This place was a complete zoo. Making it to the edge of the tent was difficult, but I made it. Where was I anyway? A young woman walked by me, in a hurry to get somewhere. Quickly I tapped her on the shoulder. "Miss, what town is this exactly?" I asked. She gave me a dirty look and snorted. "Bloomfield." She spat and stomped off, acting like she was the important one of the bunch. Bloomfield. Twenty miles from home. Exactly how far had this monster gone?
    I'd have to find a ride. And find one quick. The roads were busy with people, fire trucks, ambulances, police cars and vehicles as people came in and out of town. There was a truck exiting the parking lot, in which the tent was set up.
    I ran to his window. "Excuse me sir, where are you going?" He gave me a disgusted look and then shot back, "Don't tell me what to do missy, I think I know what I'm doin'!" I hadn't meant for it to come out that way, but people can be so cold. He sped off, leaving tire marks on the pavement, and almost ran over two pedestrians. "You sure know what to do in an emergency." I mumbled after him.
    Feeling helpless I trudged off, head down, shoulders forward, knees bent. "Scuse me lassy, you be goin' somewhere?" I turned in the direction of the voice. "Huh?" I asked, not seeing anyone. "Over 'ere! I heard you talkin' to that guy, and I was wonderin' if maybe I could be of some service to ya." There was a middle aged man, sitting in an old Ford pick up truck, waving at me, smiling to reveal a missing front tooth.
    This man was strange to me, yet I felt I could deal with it. "Sure! I'm going to Blainsville, if it's not to much trouble." The man grinned. "Just headin' there meself. Hop in young lass. I'll getcha there lickety split no doubt about that." Without another word I carefully pulled myself up into his truck, shut the door carefully and sat rigid as possible, trying to ignore the grinding in my stomach.
    The man looked at me with concern. "You okay there lass? You look like yous in a lotta pain..." I raised my hand to wave it off and did my best to smile. "Just tired." I muttered. He shrugged and shifted the stick, and we slowly began to inch forward through the crowd. On every side there was people, children with longing eyes as they stared at us through the windows. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on something else.
    The man asked where I lived. I muttered my address and quick instructions on how to get there. We were out of the crowd now, the truck shifted as he turned onto the main highway and began to drive off into the darkness.
    "So, you gots a fella to get home to?" With any other person, in any other situation, I probably would have snorted a 'None of your business' but I couldn't be terrible to this kind man who had willingly picked up a strange woman to do her a favor in which she could never return. So, I nodded. He smiled understandingly.
    "I had a wife once, but she be gone, gone, gone, didn't like me much so wents to the lawyer and gots her some papers and we ain't married no more." "Oh, that's to bad, I'm sorry." I tried to put as much feeling into the words and I could, but I was so exhausted, and his truck was so warm. He nodded.
"You just lie back an' rest an' we'll be there in no time."
    Groggily I nodded and shifted a little, but was still very uncomfortable. The feeling of sickness was dwelling, as my stomach rolled and twisted, with lack of food and water.


    The drive home was quicker than I'd expected. Maybe because I was in a dreamy daze on the way there. In fact, it took the guy a couple of shakes to get me to open my eyes and start responding. "Miss, is this yer house?" Feeling sore I slumped forward in my seat and peered out the dusty window.
    Naturally my ribs poked and grinded, and the sickness was all over me again. But this time the sickness did not come from the feeling of my ribs, It came from the notion that this was my home, or what was left of it. The site laid before me was almost unrecognizable.
    The front porch was completely gone, with only a few pieces of wood left behind as proof that it has actually once existed. That porch. The one Daniel and I had sat on only hours before. The shutters that were once beautifully painted, now lay shabby and lifeless on their hinges, revealing broken windows and long strips of chipped paint. The roof was gone and lay in pieces all around the house. Personal items such as clothing and bed sheets lay about, the bed I had slept in that morning had been picked up and carried across the yard, and laid near the woods to my right.
    My dogs. My husband. Where were they? I made no move to get out of the truck, only stared through that damned windshield, stared at the horror before me, barely taking notice that the clouds overhead once again rolled tormentingly with cracks of lightning darting around the sky.
    "I don' believe you gots to worry, see that red x up 'ere? That means that the police already been by and gots the survivors." My heart sparked with faith. Maybe they all weren't dead after all! I opened my mouth to speak but once again he knew what was on my mind.
    "Only 'bouts three miles to the shelter. We'll find 'em there." Again I sat back in my seat, closed my eyes, and tried not to think of our beautiful home which now lay in ruins. The man carefully backed his truck out of our driveway, avoiding the broken mirrors and glass and furniture than lay about.
    "I never did ask you what your name was." I spoke quietly, feeling as if I would throw up if I spoke louder. "Just call me Joe." He said and grinned. Somehow his smile was comforting in all that had happened, and once again I passed into a groggy stage on the short trip to the shelter.



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