5. Dominic #2
“We’ll be okay,” I tell all three girls before I’ve even formally met Este’s daughter. “We’re almost to my friend’s house, and he’s got an underground storm shelter. We’ll run as fast as we can from the driveway around the left side of the house to the shelter, okay?”
“Let’s get your shoes back on,” Este tells one of the kids. “Sam, honey, it’s going to be just fine. It’s not our first storm, is it?”
“I hope Willow is okay,” Sam whispers to nobody in particular. Willow must be her sister who took off, leaving two teens to care for themselves in the middle of a tornado warning.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Este assures Sam.
I’m flying down Finn’s street now, nearly there, when I spot a wedge tornado appear in the distance, probably a few miles north. It’s wide, dark, and menacing, enough to send a chill racing down my spine—and I’ve seen a lot of storms.
“Fuck,” Este and I say in unison. Instead of parking, I tear through Finn’s precious lawn until we’re about twenty feet from the cellar. I don’t want to get too close in case the car gets tossed—God forbid it traps us underground.
“Leave everything!” Este yells to the girls, who tear out of my Jeep and run after me, Este right behind us.
I knock three times with my fist, and the heavy door flies open.
I hold it up, and then we all practically fall down the steps into the cool cement structure Finn built when he moved here. We accept excited licks from Buddy.
I take one final look outside, spotting the tornado getting wider by the minute, its swirling cone of debris growing wider by the second.
It seems to be pointed directly at us, an angrily churning motherfucker.
It must have eaten up a lot of the fields right outside of town because it’s dark brown, and I spot what looks like a red barn door circulating.
We’ve got no time. We gotta take cover.
A sick sensation twists my stomach as I pull the door down and secure all its latches while Este introduces herself with a quick, “I’m Este, and this is my daughter Reed and her friend Sam.”
I interrupt the introductions. “Take cover! All the way in the back!” I want everyone as far from the door as possible in case it comes unlatched.
On impulse, I throw myself over Este, who has already covered the two girls up with her own body.
They all cower with their hands over their necks and heads.
Finn’s got his body over Buddy’s, who whines in annoyance, and I sigh into Este’s hair, a prayer on my lips. I don’t want to be wiped off the planet without ever kissing her plump, pretty lips; before we’ve made love together; before I can convince her to spend a lifetime with me.
We huddle up, waiting for the telltale train-like sounds of a tornado overhead as Este shakes beneath me. I pull out my cell; the warning is still in effect, but I don’t have enough reception to check the radar.
“How much longer?” Este’s daughter asks with a shaking voice a minute or two later.
“Almost in the clear, I bet. You’re being courageous,” I mumble as I press my chin into Este’s shoulder, the side of my face against the side of hers. If it’s going to happen, it’ll be now. The twister was so close that it must be nearly here.
Something is raging outside, that’s for sure. The roar isn’t deafening as objects fly and clatter. I don’t think it’s directly overhead. But, it’s close.
I gulp hard and count the seconds that pass until I hit seventy, and then a chime sounds.
“I have one bar of signal now, and the neighbors just texted. We’re in the clear, but blocks away, Junction Falls took a direct hit,” Finn says from beside me.
“I’ll go check.” I stand up, a couple of bones creaking as I do, then unlatch the door and shove it open. Making my way up the ladder, I look around and see no signs of a tornado. There’s debris in the yard, but other than that, there’s no visible damage in any direction.
The neighbors I’ve met a few times before, Clyde and Beatrice, make their way through the conjoined backyard they share with Finn. Their house is directly to the north of us.
“Are you all alright there?” Clyde asks as he walks over in his overalls.
“All clear,” I call to everyone in the shelter as I scramble up and shake Clyde’s hand. “We’re all in one piece, thank you.”
“It’s completely gone,” Beatrice tells me, her eyes wide as saucers, face clammy and frightened. “Not the neighbors across the street, but everything behind them to the north has just been wiped out. It was so loud! I watched it tear everything up, and there must be so many injuries.”
Clyde embraces Beatrice as she cries, and Este looks at me helplessly as her arms encircle each of the girls.
“We ought to go help,” Finn tells me.
But then he glances down at my feet, which are in plastic flip-flops I’d put on to get out of the house faster. That means I can’t go digging people out of their ruined homes.
“Get the first aid kit. Some basic tools,” I reply.
Finn’s a good guy to have around in an emergency, thanks to his medical training.
“On it!” He disappears into the house and garage, returning with supplies. Then, Clyde and Finn are off, and I feel foolish about my choice of footwear and frustrated by my inability to help.
However, I have precious cargo that all need to return to their homes tonight. I glance at Reed and Sam, and they look shaken, while Este appears as though she’s trying to hold it all together.
Este’s face is full of worry; her lips pull into a deep frown.
“I’ve got you,” I tell Este. “I’ll get y’all home safe and soon, I promise.” I turn to the teenagers. “By the way, I’m Dominic. Don’t think we were properly introduced. I’m a friend of your mother’s, Reed, and I’ve heard some wonderful things about you.”
Reed tries to smile, but a grimace comes out. I pat her shoulder. “It’s okay. I know this has been a very scary experience.”
Buddy is running circles around the yard, so Reed’s not the only one discombobulated this evening. I decide to put him back in the house before we go.
I turn to Beatrice. “Will you be okay if we leave? Everything all right at your place?”
“Yeah, I’ll be okay. We’re the lucky ones. If that funnel hadn’t dissipated when it did, there’d be nothing left of my place or Finn’s.”
I shudder before I reach out, shake her hand, and tell her to take care. She says goodnight to Este and heads back to her house.
“Come on, Buddy.” I call the dog, walk him inside, give him some fresh water, and make sure the door latches behind me.
“Let’s go,” I announce to Este and the girls who look dazed and afraid. I reach out and take Este’s hand right in front of Reed, not thinking it through, and she puts her arm around both girls and pulls them in lockstep with us as we make our way to my Jeep.
The ride back to Este’s grandparents’ place is dark and filled with emergency vehicles flying down the street from neighboring towns.
Later that night, I heard a tornado with reported EF-3 winds had hit just to our north, and I realized how close the tornado had been to the cellar we’d sheltered in.
If I had taken a different entrance to Finn’s neighborhood, we would have driven right into its path.
“I’ll buy you a new tent,” Este tells Reed suddenly. “But from now on, you stay closer to home.”
“Deal,” Reed whispers, while Sam drops her head onto Reed’s shoulder.
I help Este transfer everything from my Jeep to her mid-size sedan, and I don’t miss how exhausted she looks.
“You going to be okay getting home?” I figure her drive is about forty minutes. The dark circles appearing under her eyes worry me, as does the far-off look on her face. She’s rattled, understandably.
“I’ve got to be. Sam’s mother keeps texting. She’s out of her mind with worry. Thank you for everything you did tonight. For keeping us safe. I won’t soon forget it.” Este stares up at me with gratitude, and I want to press my mouth to hers, but the kids are inside the car, probably eavesdropping.
I lean forward and kiss Este’s forehead gently before she gets in the car and leaves me standing there with my hand in a wave as she drives away.
It’s been a hell of a night, yet I’m nowhere near ready for it to be over as her car disappears down the street.