Chapter 5
FRAME FIVE
THE STORM WITHIN
The biggest problem with photographing tornadoes and thunderstorms is that they’re as unpredictable as a perfectly blue sky.
The only thing any photographer could count on was clouds, which are great for many types of photography—just not the kind that Theo wanted to join me for.
Sure, weather reports have improved, but storms don’t care about forecasts.
They do what they want. They arrive early, late, or not at all.
They weaken or intensify without warning.
In the worst cases, they can become dangerous.
Which made inviting Theo along a questionable decision at best.
Two days after the wedding, a thunderstorm warning was issued for the following weekend, and Theo began counting down the days.
He showed up at the bar every evening, firing question after question at me about preparations, safety, and equipment.
I talked him out of buying protective gear by offering to lend him some spares I had from previous endeavors, which brought him back to my apartment again on Thursday, so we could test whether my special equipment would work with his camera model.
We behaved ourselves.
I had to admit that having Theo over again stirred something in me that I wasn’t ready to rekindle.
He was the first person with whom I could so easily connect over this passion, and I wasn’t going to jeopardize that by misreading his flirty personality.
He always had a compliment ready, and whenever we were close, there were some accidental touches here and there—but that was also normal for friends.
He never leaned in for a kiss or ripped my pants off during any of our meetings.
When he left, I usually felt horny, but also strangely content.
On Sunday morning, the sky delivered. Thick, brooding clouds rolled in over the town, suggesting that the forecast might be accurate this time.
After a quick phone call, we decided to meet at our local park, which was directly in the projected path of the thunderstorm.
It was only a five-minute drive away from the bar—close enough to home that we could retreat quickly if the weather got out of hand.
When we met there a few hours later, a deep growl already floated in the air.
The park was a broad meadow surrounded by trees.
A single path led to a clock tower in the middle, which was easily one of the oldest buildings in town and hopefully a suitable subject for our photos.
A small river—no more than a gentle creek on normal days—flowed past the meadow, dividing it from a street lined with single-family homes.
The gray sky grew darker with each passing minute, and the wind blew through the trees, giving the freshly grown leaves a good shake.
The smell of an approaching rain hung in the air, heightening my senses.
I chose a gazebo on the edge of the meadow with a nice view of the park as my spot for tonight, hoping to capture an image of the clock tower illuminated by the thunder.
I had already unpacked and set up my camera on the bench facing the park when Theo appeared between the trees.
He wore a black rain jacket that looked heavier than the backpack over his shoulder, which I had lent him earlier that morning.
The camera in his hand had a folded tripod mounted to it and a plastic cover on top.
True to form, he took a picture of me before raising his arm to greet me.
I waved back, not taking my eyes off him until he stepped into the gazebo.
“You’re late,” I said. “It’s going to start raining any minute, so you'd better set up your camera quickly.”
“Sorry. I saw some trees swaying in the wind, so I had to take a few pictures. They didn’t turn out as well as I had hoped, though.”
“That’s why we plan ahead and then wait.”
“As if I could simply follow your advice,” he said with a grin. He set his camera up on the other half of the bench beside me. “I brought everything you told me, except for spare clothes. But before you say anything—I have them in my car, which is parked just on the other side of the river.”
“You should always have everything with you,” I lectured, but then offered him a smile too. “But you’re forgiven.”
A distant rumble echoed through the park.
Theo looked at my camera, then at his, then at me, and made a face. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think I’ll walk around a bit before the rain sets in. I promise to be back before it gets too dangerous.”
“You know that I understand you’re an adult, right?”
“Come on, admit that you’re a little worried about me. Then I’ll admit that I like that.”
There he was again, his light banter making me think that maybe someday we could have both things—a professional friendship and a sexual one—but I couldn’t let my thoughts drift there now. Storms come and go fast. If we wanted to have a real shot at this, we’d have to focus on the task at hand.
“Just… have fun out there,” I said, turning back to my camera and grabbing the external trigger.
“You too.” Theo wandered off. He stayed within my sight the whole time, constantly glancing in my direction as if he were either trying to avoid stepping in my shot or checking if I was already worried sick, which, I admit, I was a little when the first drops came down, and a heavy rumble rolled through the sky.
Funny enough, though, the moment I heard the rumble, I reflexively pressed the shutter button.
The camera clicked several times in a row, taking a series of pictures I already knew weren’t worth anything.
The storm was still too far away to produce any sight worth photographing.
Nonetheless, that did something important: It reminded me that if I worried too much about Theo, who was still a grown-up the last time I looked, I would never get a good shot.
Even if the thunderstorm moved toward us and provided some impressive lightning, I wouldn’t react quickly enough if I weren’t fully focused.
I took a deep breath, looked through the viewfinder to confirm that the composition was still how I wanted it, closed my left eye, and peered past the camera body directly into the sky.
To capture a lightning bolt, I had to activate my sixth sense.
When I saw them with my eyes, it was already too late.
By the time the impulse made its way from my brain to my thumb and into the camera, the lightning would already be gone.
So instead, I had to wait, trust my instincts, and press the button beforehand to improve my chances.
For ten minutes, I sat there, slipping into that familiar mode of waiting.
For many folks, this would be boring. It was impossible to look at a phone or at anything other than the scenery, and often nothing happened.
It’s a little bit like fishing, just not as relaxing, because in a storm, all my instincts scream at me to seek safety.
Then, something in the air changed. The rain grew more intense from one second to the next.
Without even questioning it, I pressed and held the shutter button.
For five seconds, the suspense crawled up my neck until a stunning white flash appeared before my eyes.
A split second later, thunder crashed through the sky, so loudly that even the trees at the edge of the park shuddered.
The tension dispersed, spreading warmth through my chest—the pleasant reward for being patient.
The rain eased up for about twenty seconds, but then it poured down even harder. I pushed the button again, just in case, and half a second later, yet another flash illuminated the sky.
“Nice,” I hissed to myself. If the first try hadn’t done it, this one was probably gonna be a winner.
I quickly switched my camera to viewing mode and scrolled through the images.
Two stood out: one where the lightning framed the clock tower like an opening curtain, and another where the thunderbolt struck the roof, extending behind the building and giving it an almost otherworldly glow.
It was a rare occurrence. I was already done, not even half an hour into the shoot.
I lifted my head and scanned the park for Theo.
Rain pounded the grass and trees, causing the branches to hang low under the heavy weight of the soaked leaves.
I looked at the clock tower, then the little bridge over the creek.
Still no sign of Theo. My chest clenched.
I knew very well that it was unlikely that something had happened to him while I was focused, but…
I couldn’t rule it out. The storm was right above us.
My eyes darted about, scanning every direction.
The rain became so intense that if he stayed in it, he’d be soaked to his underwear within minutes, unless he had the perfect rain jacket, as I did.
Now, however, the same jacket turned into a sauna.
My breath quickened as I tried to make out any shape in the park that could resemble a person when—
“Are you looking for someone?”
The voice behind me startled me so badly that when I whipped my head around, the muscles in my neck cramped. I had to press my thumb into the spot to keep from passing out.
Rain dripped from Theo’s jacket and hood. His hair was wet at the ends, and the camera in his hand, still wrapped in the see-through casing I had lent him, was speckled with water droplets.
“Just, uh, checking for more angles,” I said, trying to save face. “Did you get any good shots?”
“Not too many. I understand now why you said to stay in one place and wait. All the movement of nature is fine if you can keep the camera very still. I thought I could do that well enough, but…” He shook his head with a smile. “How about you?”
“I’ve gotten what I wanted, and judging from the rain, I got lucky, because we shouldn’t really stay here any longer.”
“You want to leave already?”