Unpredictable

I 1

I strut into the street like a spaghetti western cowboy, only with a cell phone as my six-gun and a Ford pickup instead of a horse. 2

The sun is at high noon, and a slight breeze blows some trash across the street and into a storm gutter, where it will fall in and be taken by the car-wash runoff and contaminated well water current out to the ocean about fifteen miles away. 3

The clouds look noncommittally down onto the Earth, as if they are big puffy gray blankets of a child’s pillow-fort blocking out the sunlight. Walking across the street isn’t especially pleasant, since the humidity is so intense that even dehydrated anorexics feel as if they are sweating profusely even after a few moments in the air. 4

My feet make dampened claps against the asphalt, and then on the concrete of the sidewalk as I successfully complete jaywalking across the deserted street. 5

A beautiful Saturday on Carpenter Lane. 6

I walk up to the stained-glass door depicting some sort of abstract flower, made into a mosaic by pieces of orange, red, and yellow glass. The wood around the handle is weathered from the constant humidity, even though the door was only installed a few months prior. I can hear a muffled doorbell clang through the door’s thin frame after I press the little white button on the wall next to it, held in place by two screws turned red by rust. 7

I see some movement on the other side of the mosaic, reflected through hundreds of tiny little panes of glass. It reminds me of how a fly sees through its kaleidoscope vision, or at least how the movies portray it. 8

The door cracks open and I see a man’s face peek out. It’s her father, a man that I only know as “Sir” and by no other name. 9

“She’ll be out in a second, she’s just finishing getting ready.” He always uses the same voice with me. To me, it recalls an image of how a pediatrician would talk to a child who has stuck something incongruous up his nose. 10

“It’s alright, I can wait a few minutes.” He still hasn’t offered for me to come inside. 11

“Okay, give her a minute.” The door shuts. Obviously he won’t offer for me to come inside. 12

The heat of the air keeps many birds from coming out at this time of day, but it doesn’t seem to effect the loudest of them. On the roof of her house, I can see a large white bird screaming into the sky, begging someone to throw it a fish like a sidewalk performer begs for pocket change by being as loud and obnoxious as possible. 13

The sky gets a little darker, and I feel a cooler breeze blowing against my face. Much relief throughout all this thick humidity. 14

I hear the door creak and I turn around to face it. She stands there with her hands at her sides, and looks unbelievably beautiful. I mean, any other person could stand like that and nobody would ever be as good as standing the way she can. 15

“Are you gonna stare at me all day, or can we go?” She had a way with words that Shakespeare would envy. 16

“Alright, let’s get out of here.” I grab her hand and lead her toward the street. The bird continues to squawk on the rooftop as we head toward the asphalt; her hand gently gripping my fingers as the cool breeze seems to hold up her hair. 17

When we reach the car, I open the door for her. Whenever I try to be impressive, I attempt being the quintessential gentleman. I’m not sure if it really works. 18

“Thank you.” She says with a perfect smile, stepping into my truck and taking a seat on the dusty fabric. I smile with a goofy look of joy on my face, the natural look of shy and humble happiness. 19

Shutting the door, I walk around the front of my truck and reach for the handle. The breeze seems even stronger now, which really does beat the earlier stuffy heat, especially since I planned a picnic on the pier. She still doesn’t know. 20

I climb into the truck and ignite the engine. The motor sputters a few times and then hums in complacency on another successful start. One of the few that is has left. 21

I look over to her. She’s looking out the window, silent. I smile again and turn on the radio. Static plagues the airwaves of my near-ancient radio, more than normal today. 22

“Piece of crap.” I bang on the dashboard in an attempt to make it work. 23

“Don’t worry about it, we can talk instead.” She winks. “Now where are you taking me?” I shift my car into drive and coast down Carpenter Lane. 24

II 25

A reporter sits down at his desk and beings typing a paper to be read on the news at half past noon. The story he is writing is urgently important and needs to be completed “ASAP,” so say the meteorologists. Not only will it play on the local news, but it will also be broadcasted across the radio and spread like wildfire through the county.This news is just a prediction, he tells himself, it’s only a warning. 26

True, the emergency broadcast system hadn’t been alerted yet, but the probability of it needing to increases by the minute. 27

He presses his fingers firmly against the keyboard’s plastic buttons. 28

Weather forecasts for the area show that a tropical depression, or a group of thunderstorms with strong winds, is expected to hit the coast in rapid timing. A tropical storm is to follow shortly after.To repeat, this is a tropical storm warning.With tides in, there is the possibility of five-foot storm tide 29

A phone call interrupts his writing fervor. He answers, and with a few quick sentences he places it back on its receiver; a look of speechless horror on his face. He picks up the phone again and dials in a number which he never thought he’d have to.“Hello, this is the national weather service, how may I help you?” As quickly as he can get out, the reporter speaks into the phone: “I need to report a hurricane.” 30

III 31

The truck rolls along the boulevard, and what started as just a light sprinkle a few minutes ago had now turned into raindrops. The truck rolls along the boulevard, and what started as just a light sprinkle a few minutes ago had now turned into raindrops.The truck rolls along the boulevard, and what started as just a light sprinkle a few minutes ago had now turned into raindrops.“Sorry about this, I had planned on trying to woo you by planning lunch on the pier.” The truck rolls along the boulevard, and what started as just a light sprinkle a few minutes ago had now turned into raindrops. The truck rolls along the boulevard, and what started as just a light sprinkle a few minutes ago had now turned into raindrops.The truck rolls along the boulevard, and what started as just a light sprinkle a few minutes ago had now turned into raindrops.“Sorry about this, I had planned on trying to woo you by planning lunch on the pier.” 32

“Ah, it’s alright. I kind of like the rain…” I watch her twirl her hair around her index finger as she looks out the window. “Just park over there and we can eat in the car. The ocean looks beautiful.” 33

I pull the car onto a bluff overlooking the beach and shut off the engine. She sits up a little further to look down onto the sand and the crashing water. 34

I can hear the wind outside my car blowing in strong blasts, as if someone is hitting the side of my car with a bat. I turn around in my seat. It isn’t a bat; it’s a tree limb, broken from its tree, banging against the bed of my truck. It’s a stupid truck anyway, I think. I hear a boom from behind me. 35

“Look!” I hear excitement in her voice as I turn around. Another flash of lightning hits the beach, and then the gunshot sound of thunder follows, less than one second after. 36

“Shouldn’t we get out of here?” I say. I really have never enjoyed thunderstorms. 37

“Don’t worry, a car is the safest place you can be during a thunderstorm.” I feel her hand grasp mine on the seat and I no longer care about the wind, which is now demonstrating that it is strong enough to rock the truck. 38

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?” I always turn on the charm at these moments. I guess that’s how I got her to come out on a date with me in the first place. Her cheeks turn a rosy red color but she doesn’t look away. 39

Instead, she moves closer to me on the seat and looks into my eyes. My heart starts pumping faster as she looks into my eyes. 40

“Did I ever tell you how handsome you are?” She says, in a mocking tone, moving her face closer to mine. I can see another flash of lightning in her eyes before I can feel the vibrations of the thunder engulf the truck. 41

Our lips meet. 42

For a moment, there was nothing but she and I in the world. The pitter-patter noise of the rain seemed to deafen, the flashes of lightning, the vibration of the thunder: all were gone. 43

After a moment, we move slightly apart, only enough to speak. 44

“So am I a good kiss—” 45

Her sentence is cut off by a blinding flash of lightning directly outside the car, no more than ten feet away. The thunder sounds like an explosion. When the sound stops, I can feel a slight ringing in my ears. 46

“This is getting scary. I think we should go home now.” She says, and I agree readily. I put my key back in the ignition and turn. 47

The car sputters for a few seconds, but doesn’t turn on. The rain is now coming down so hard that the windshield is opaque with streaming water. Outside, the wind thumps at the windows as if knocking to get in. 48

I try the ignition again. I look over and see my date in a state of near anxious breakdown. The car doesn’t start again. 49

Another burst of wind, and this time I swear I can feel the car slide across the asphalt a little bit. 50

Stupid car, work! 51

I turn the key hard and fast in anger, and this time it sputters and finally begins to hum. 52

“Christ, that took long enough… let’s go back toward my house.” I can only hear the worry in her voice. This stupid storm ruined the whole mood. 53

I put the car in reverse and begin to back up, trying to see where I’m moving, but it’s not working. 54

Now I hear a dull clap and the cracking of glass. My date screams before I have the chance to see what it is. 55

I stop looking out the back of my truck and the girl, pointing to the driver’s side window in shock. I rotate to look out my window, but instead of seeing rain or land or anything I see a bloodied, dead fish stuck to my now cracking window. 56

Another thump hits against the truck sounding like a strong man with a sledgehammer hitting it. 57

“What are you doing? We need to get out of here!” I can hear the panic in her voice like I can feel the panic in my head. We’re caught. 58

I shift into drive and roll down the hill. I feel like a celebrity being followed by paparazzi, thanks to the flash of the lightning hitting here or there every few seconds. I can hardly see out the front of the truck because the rain is coming down so hard. 59

Suddenly, the car jolts and starts moving sideways. I slam on the accelerator but nothing happens. I look at her and don’t know what to say. She grips my hand. 60

IV 61

Falling from Heaven,
Its fury is dark and wild.
A deafening roar,
Hitting the soil in large beads.
The rain triumphing again. 62

V 63

It’s months later and the church is still silent. People can hold out hope for a long time before they ever allow themselves to believe that someone isn’t coming back.The thousands of articles reading: 64

A man [or woman] by the name of _______ has been missing since the hurricane. They were last seen wearing _____, _____, and ______, and were around the _______ part of town. If anyone knows of the whereabouts of this person, please contact _______ at ___-____. 65

But even worse than the generic “lost” articles were the hundreds of obituaries. Each individual article cried out the pain of a loved one. Sometimes, whole newspapers would be committed to the obituaries for that day, depending on if the rescue teams had found more bodies washing ashore. 66

Taylor Blair, 1987 – 2006. Taylor was an active artist and a romantic. He was well liked by everyone, and was taken away by the hurricane. He was driving out of the storm when a strong flood current swept his car away. He and his girlfriend, Emily Steinberg, were found, deceased, in his flipped pickup truck. All the windows were broken. Taylor was the epitome of a perfect youth, taken away in the storm. May he rest forever in peace, and with love. 67

VI 68

The storm came so fast that few people had time to escape. The tide combined with the storm surge to allow waters to rise 18 feet above sea level in a very short amount of time. The damage from the hurricane cost more than money, it cost hundreds of lives. And there was no way to prevent it. 69

Dedicated to the thousands of lives lost due to natural disasters every year, whether it is here or in another country. 70