says,
Don’t start again! We’re not going to drive off and
escape this. This is everywhere, Daisy, everywhere,
and we’ve just got to wait until this breaks or we get
news. Not going to be better anyplace else.
This has been a long running argument between them, one discussed whenever
they retired to one of the bedrooms for a nap together. Daisy is trying to
initiate the discussion again, publicly, hoping to win support, and Danny has
about had it with her. One of the children in the group is likewise having
32
problems understanding the situation. Tammy leans against her mother, Martha,
who is sitting in her place at the kitchen table.
When can my dolls go to the swimming hole for a
picnic?
Tammy is obviously asking when she can go again. Martha wraps her free arm
around her and gives her a little hug, understanding that the child wants to
cool off, and get out of the tension in the kitchen.
Soon honey, soon.
_______________________________
The pumps have stopped, are stopping repeatedly due to the erratic power
supply coming off the grid lines, the switches tripping as soon as the reset
button is pushed. Big Tom is squatting at the pump by the well, tools on the
ground next to him, tinkering with the pump. The pump is starting and then
cutting out immediately every time he starts it. He scoops up his tools and
rises, muttering softly.
Damn!
Big Tom is walking back from the spring house with a bucket of water in his
hands. Big Tom stops in his tracks, feeling a slight but continuous tremble in
the ground. His wife Martha comes running out of the house and into his arms,
the buckets now dropped to the ground, sloshing and spilling over. The kids
are running up behind her.
Mom! Mom!
Panic is in the air. Danny and Red come around the corner of the house, from
the garden, onions and tomatoes for the gumbo Martha was preparing in their
hands. Red's pale face accentuates the red tinge in his graying hair.
The moon is on the move!
Suddenly everyone standing is thrown several feet. Big Tom is thrown
backwards, skidding on his rear, Martha on top of him. Tammy sits up, holding
her scrapped and bleeding elbow, rocking back and forth in pain and crying
hard. Billy staggers to his feet, standing pale and shaken, his arms out to
either side and slightly crouching. Big Tom, rolling up to a sitting position
and easing his wife to the side, frowns. He says,
What the Hell! . .
The barn, laid on a concrete slab, has been lurched off its foundations and
moved halfway into the sloping barnyard. The house has crinkled in the
middle, the walls folding in on a broken support, but is still glued to its
foundation. Daisy emerges from the house, screaming, accompanied by Jane who
is holding both hands to her bleeding head.
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A massive split in the earth begins ripping across the field behind the barn,
opening and closing again, yawing open several feet and then quickly closing
again. The sky darkens as a hailstorm of what appears to be gravel starts
peppering the landscape. The group reacting to their injuries and shock in the
yard put their hands over their heads and dash back and forth, needing shelter
but leery of going into the broken house. Lighting crackles overhead
repeatedly, though there is no rain, and in the distance there is a whooshing
sound, as a falling blanket of fire drops on some trees along a stream,
setting them afire.
The group, led by Red, dashes into the storm cellar. Red says,
Knew this would come in handy.
Daisy is hysterical and keeps screaming at Danny. Everyone is ignoring her.
Make it stop . . Make it stop.
Martha is wrapping her apron around Jane's head, instructing her in a calm
voice to press her head to stop the scalp wound from bleeding.
There, right there.
Jane’s face is covered with blood. Despite all, Frank is matter-of-fact.
I think my arm is broken.
Frank’s arm is seen dangling at an odd angle, the trauma of the moment so
great that he didn't notice this until they were safe in the storm cellar.
The winds outside are howling louder, and the bolted metal door of the cellar
is rattling with the force now and then. The only light in the cellar is a
battery operated lantern.
Big Tom is setting Frank's dislocated arm, Danny holding Frank from the back,
his arm coming around the front and holding Frank's good arm in a grip tight
enough to keep him from striking out in pain. Big Tom calls out.
Now!
Big Tom pulls as Frank cries out and lurches back, kicking his feet. Red is
standing at the ready, a splint made from a chair leg in his hands, with Billy
at his elbow, trying to help. Behind them is a drama just as compelling,
going unnoticed. Tammy is squeezed back into the corner of the room, hugging
one of her dolls, her face a frozen mask and voice silenced.
An hour later the winds have stopped howling. Red throws the bolts holding
the storm door tightly shut, and pushes on the door slightly, opening it a
crack. Big Tom, hesitant and cautious, sticks his head out, glancing around.
All is calm, only the broken landscape attesting to what had occurred only an
hour before. Big Tom is closely followed by his Billy, with Red and Martha
bobbing up and down behind them, trying to see. Martha blinks and struggles
to hold back her tears, seeing the life they built so painstakingly
devastated.
34
Every building tossed a kilter, branches torn off any trees left standing, and
the windmill a twisted tangle in the corner of the barnyard. Big Tom says,
At least we're still alive.
And then, showing his practical nature.
I'll go see if I can get the pump to work . . we need
to store and hold any clean water in the tank before
it drains away.
Big Tom walks through the splintered wreckage that was the house and barn.
Red remains behind, his hand on Billy's shoulder, as they both stand silent
and still. Martha has her hand to her mouth, the family frozen at the sight.
_______________________________
Where cataclysmic forces tear civilized trappings asunder, nature often
remains unruffled. Except for an occasional tree limb tossed into the tall
weeds, the pasture lands look much the same. A horse and rider emerge from
the cow path that wends through the woods, riding hard.
Netty, her hair coming apart and looking like it hasn't been combed in days,
is on the run. Her cream colored jodhpurs are black in places, soiled beyond
hope, attesting to the fact that Netty has been living in them for days. Her