Chapter 19
Thursday
Agoddamn tornado!
“We have reports of a tornado spotted on the ground in Canadian County, just south of Mustang, moving in a north-easterly direction toward Oklahoma City airport and the city. I can’t repeat this enough, but don’t make unnecessary journeys, don’t take risks on treacherous roads, and seek shelter immediately. ”
Chills run down my spine at the mere mention of the tornado heading our way. My leg bounces up and down as I sit on the arm of the couch. Is it wrong to be excited that I actually might get to see a tornado up close and in person?
Seven-year-old me was heartbroken after he’d watched the original Twister film and my parents said we were in the wrong state to chase tornadoes. But now, after seventeen years, I might finally get to see one.
“Thanks, Gemma,” a pale news anchor in a cream suit and yellow tie says when the shot switches back to the studio.
“We’re just getting some footage of the tornado from a viewer now.
” His hand goes to his earpiece while the screen splits, showing a shaky video clip taken from a back yard.
The tornado is just visible in the distance when sparks fly from the power lines in the dark night sky.
My heart rate spikes at the sight.
“We’ve gotta go see it.” I shake Christopher’s arm.
“Are you crazy?” He turns to shoot me a look of bewilderment.
He has a point.
The rattle from the hotel windows gets louder from the howling winds outside. I almost jump off the arm of the couch to run the window. Debris is scattered all across the street below. The sound of car alarms goes off in the distance.
Oh my God, this is so exciting.
Three quick bangs on the door divert my attention, and I can instantly tell who it is.
Christopher may not share my excitement, but I know who will.
I bound to the door like a dog preparing to greet his owner, and almost slip on the tiled flooring, grabbing my suitcase on the stand to steady myself before opening to the door.
“I’m heading up to the roof to check the tornado out. You coming?” Rob’s bulky frame takes up the entire door, his eyes full of glee.
I’ve never seen a smile so wide on his face. It even outshines the sauce-covered smile he wears whenever he takes me to the barbeque restaurant in his hometown, just outside Houston, that we always stop at if we’re passing through.
“Hell yeah. Gimme a sec.”
I leave the door open and fling open my suitcase to find something suitable to wear. My white Calvin Klein boxer briefs aren’t the best idea to go up to the roof in.
“Hi Rob,” Christopher acknowledges briefly before he turns back, glued to the TV. I frantically throw my clothes all over the floor, trying to find something warm and waterproof.
“We haven’t had a tornado hit the Oklahoma City area this late in the season since the EF3 tornado over fifty years ago on November 19, 1973, which killed five people.” The news anchor’s voice echoes round the room.
“You not gonna join us?” Rob takes in Christopher’s white T-shirt and black boxers. Rob’s own black waterproof mack drips water droplets on the floor while I yank my grey hoodie over my head and then pull up the matching sweatpants.
“You two may have a death wish, but I’m gonna heed their advice and stay put.”
“Come on,” I say, joining them both at the couch, forcing my feet into my sneakers. “How many people do you know who can say they’ve seen a tornado in real life?”
But Christopher is unrelenting, crossing his arms.
“Come on.”
I give him an affectionate shove, then another, and a third until he relents.
“Fine.” Christopher finally succumbs to my plea, turning off the television.
“Can you wait two minutes while I get changed next door?”
“Hurry up,” I say, slapping his ass.
Less than three minutes later, we’re on the roof.
The wind almost yanks Rob’s arm off when he opens the fire exit door.
The howling sound of the wind is eerily soothing.
Rob grabs a large brick to keep the door ajar, while Christopher and I step outside onto the slim balcony.
I’m instantly overcome by the weird pull from the wind, which draws us closer to the edge of the roof.
The power in the building went out when we were walking down the hallway from my room, and seemingly has gone out across the city. There’s barely any lights visible, as far as the eye can see, making it hard to make out where the tornado is.
“Can you see it?” Christopher looks around, trying to spot it in the dark.
My attention is split between the horizon and the storm radar app on my phone that I quickly downloaded while waiting for Christopher to change.
I spin on my feet, trying to get a sense of my bearings, as a reddish-pink color, shaped like a curled finger, moves closer toward us on my phone screen. But from which direction?
“There!” Rob shouts, pointing to the corner of the roof.
A bolt of lightning lights up the sky. Ominous swirling clouds hover above us, and right where Rob points is a silhouette of the tornado. Its V-shape is momentarily visible as it barrels toward us, roughly six or seven miles away.
“Oh my God. Oh. My. God.” I can barely contain my joy as I jump up and down. A ball of fire comes alive in my chest. “Do you think we can get closer?” I refuse to move my eyes from where the tornado is as I whack at Rob.
“That would not be a good idea right now.”
The pull of the wind gets stronger, and Rob grabs my arm while I hold onto the handrail with the other. I turn to look at him, and his stern look knocks the wind out of my sails.
Party pooper.
Paul is meant to be the killjoy on my team. He’s the one who always says no, not Rob.
Another lightning bolt lights up the sky, and the tornado seems to be shrinking in size.
It’s no longer a cone, but is now shaped more like a funnel.
Droplets of rain start to fall, slowly at first, and then picking up rapidly into a downpour.
A succession of three lightning strikes shows the tornado fading away, and a fourth reveals that it’s completely disappeared.
My heart deflates like a balloon.
“Damn. I thought we’d have longer to see it.”
“But you got to see it.” Christopher turns to me. His face is dripping wet from the rain. “What did you say to me downstairs? How many people do you know who’ve gotten to see a tornado in real life? Well, now you can tell everyone you have.”
Ugh!
I hate it when other people are right.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here before that rain turns into hailstones,” Rob shouts over the wind and rain as he kicks the brick away and holds open the door.
“You should have seen it. It was massive.”
“That’s what he said,” Erica says, sitting across from me in the hotel restaurant.
She nods at Christopher, who is standing by the exit.
She cuts the last of her French toast, smothered in maple syrup with a scattering of sliced strawberries on top, neatly in half with her knife.
“I can’t believe you went outside and watched it. ”
“I’ve already inquired with a few companies about going on a tornado-chasing tour next year. Apparently, there’s one with a guy called Eric from Tornadic Expeditions that gets right up close to them. The Finger of God tour, he calls it.”
I grab the Tabasco sauce and pour the last drops from the bottle onto the remainder of my chicken and spinach omelet.
“You really are an adrenaline junkie,” Erica laughs and shakes her head, reaching for her napkin to wipe a drop of maple syrup from her bottom lip.
She’s not wrong. I barely slept a wink all night.
I made Christopher stay up to watch both the Twister and Twisters films and researched the best time of year to chase tornadoes and where to chase them from.
All of the tours seemed to be booked up for next year, but I’m hoping a spot will open up on one of them, especially on Eric’s tour.
Christopher reluctantly agreed to join if there was a space for a third alongside me and Rob.
Just before we headed down to breakfast, Christopher had turned on the news.
The full scale of the damage was clear to see in the daylight.
One of the reporters, walking through the destruction in a small neighborhood, showed roofs ripped off buildings, houses flattened, and cars upside down.
A trampoline hung from a tree. It was all so bleakly real.
“You ready to get going, chicken wing?” Rob slaps me on the back with such force that I can feel the last bite of the omelet come back up from my stomach.
“Let me just get the bill.” I wave down the waiter as I slide into my jacket.
The rest of the team is already exiting the restaurant and heading out to the car.
“Already sorted,” Rob says. He ushers me and Erica to the door and into the first of two cars waiting outside for us.
“Is that from the hailstones?” I point at the windshield as I lean forward in my seat. The crack is the size of a baseball.
“Afraid so. Tried to get it replaced this morning before picking you up, but the garage is already backed up till Sunday.” The driver looks back at me from the rearview mirror.
He rubs his mustache with his thumb and finger before adjusting his sunglasses. The sky is a clear blue outside, the complete opposite of what it looked like just a few hours ago.
Less than ten minutes later, we pull up outside Brewed. A small gathering of fans greets me as I step out. Christopher and the Brewed team get out from the other car and head inside along with Paul, Connie, and Erica, while Rob and Lucy keep watch over me as I sign items and pose for selfies.
Once inside, Connie immediately pulls me over toward the stairs. Paul quickly follows as Caryn, Chloe, Christopher, and Pedro console one of the Brewed staff by the counter.