Thursday, May 26, 2011

Sharon' is Karen'


Dark clouds loomed in the distance, waiting to move in for the kill. We drove on, keeping one eye on the clouds and one on the roads.

We stopped and handed Malvin a bag, but he and his Rolling Stones were more interested in cash. He needed $50 for rent, we hand none. We dreamed of Arizona together.

The clouds grew larger and we traveled in their direction. We parked at the edge of the woods and Karen shouted from her Mary-protected house. "I got some blankets for the guys, do you want to take 'em?" She handed us an enormous bag of warm and comfortable goodies, and like Santa Claus, I threw the load over my should and hiked into the greenery.

We spent some time with Perch, Bob and Senior and complained about the mosquitoes.

I received a text message about a storm, and then the tornado sirens sounded. "What do you do with a group of high school students in the woods when a tornado comes?" I asked myself. The tents looked a bit unfit for protection from high winds, so we trucked it back to the van.

The clouds had made their move. Darkness surrounded us and began to close in. Text message, phone call, text message, phone call, the voices of warning weighed heavy with distress.

Atop the Hoban hill, we watched the storm settle above us and let loose. An hour or so later, Mr. Horinger and I drove back out with some bags stuffed in our cars. We pulled into St. Bernard's. Good thing, too. A crowd waited.

"Got any socks? Mine are soaked?"

I turned to my car hoping that socks would magically appear. Nothing. "I had them in the van. If it wasn't for the storm, I'd have socks."

"If it wasn't for the storm, I wouldn't be wet."

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