THROUGH
THE STORM
Together
Through Any and All Weather, Parties, Fights or Anything
Bursting
into the front door of Doc's house they came. Looking around for any signs
of his parents. There was no one home. Grabbing a bag from the beside
the refrigerator, Doc headed to the hall closet where the impatient Spike
was waiting.
"Grab
the bottle of Crown Royal in the purple box," Doc told Spike.
Rummaging
through the box of alcohol that had been given to Mr. Doc over the years,
Spike retrieved the purple box with the inscription Crown Royal on the
front and back. Opening the box Spike pulled out a purple velvet bag
with the yellow lettering and yellow drawstrings from the box, and opened
it. Inside was the crown-shaped bottle that marked the whiskey inside
as Crown Royal.
"Put
it back together and throw it in here," Doc said, pointing to the open
bag in his hand.
Looking
into the box himself, Doc spotted some Smirinov Vodka in an unopened
bottle. Spike reaching in at the same time as Doc shoved him out of
the way. Doc grabbed the bottle and closed the closet door.
"What,
two bottles?" Asked Spike, picking himself up off the floor.
"This
ones for us to start with," Doc replied, as he opened the Vodka and
took a hit.
"We
need some orange juice," Doc said, passing the bottle to Spike and proceeding
to the refrigerator to produce some.
Removing
two glasses from the upper cupboard Doc told Spike "Dump some in," which
he did.
Spike
filled the glasses about three quarters full with the clear liquid he
had, from the bottle in his hand. Doc filled the rest of the glasses
with orange juice and placed the carton back into the refrigerator.
"Lets
go into the basement and listen to some Jams," Doc prompte
They
grabbed the bag with the Crown Royal, the Vodka and the glasses of screwdriver
mixture. They were the usual potent drinks that they made without remorse.
Trampling down the first flight of steps to the landing at the front
door, they were startled by the obnoxious ringing of the phone. Continuing
down the next flight of stairs and around the corner to grab the phone,
Doc grabbed it on the third ring.
"What?"
Doc said belligerently into the phone.
"My
parents came home early, can't party today," came the small whispered
voice from the other end.
"OK,
Later," was his reply as Doc hung up the phone.
"More
for us," was Spikes reply as Doc told him that they could not party
with Patti-joe.
Tipping
their glasses to their mouths they toasted the event. They would usually
toast to anything that was handy, what better excuse for drinking their
drinks? Doc went over to the reddish jukebox turntable that was in the
newly refinished part of the basement. Doc put on, at maximum volume,
Elton Johns', "Good-bye Yellow Brick Road" album. He wandered over to
the recliner and kicked back just as Benny and The Jets came on. This
had been a tremendous day and the night promised to be even better.
As
the album played Spike and Doc devoured the rest of the fifth of vodka.
They were pretty well drunk by the time the album was over. Falling
out of his chair, Doc moved towards the jukebox on his hands and knees.
"What
a drunk mutha fucker," Spike slurred as he laughed at Doc's crawling.
Reaching
the jukebox, Doc removed Elton John's album and put on "My Chevy Van"
that was on forty-five then. As the song started to play, Doc noticed
that the day had gotten darker. Leaning on the windowsill and peering
outside at the sky Doc saw the problem. Clouds loomed black and low,
blocking the light of the sun. Doc motioned the Spike, who came stumbling
over for a look.
"Shit!
I got to go close the windows at the house before it rains," Spike said.
"Lets
go," Doc replied, turning off the jukebox and grabbing the bag with
the Crown Royal in it.
The
heavy rain started to fall just as they reached Doc's front door. They
didn't care, for the alcohol was providing an anesthetic from the sting
of the large drops of rain.
The
heavy rain continued to bombard them on their walk back down Glengary
Rd. towards Spike's house. As they reached the front of Patti-Joes'
house they noticed that the rain had suddenly stopped. Looking around
in the still, darkened sky, they both had a feeling of the event that
was about to occur.
They
stood there motionless, listening, waiting. Then the sound came. It
started quickly and loud. They were told that the sound was like that
of a train roaring down the tracks. They heard it growing louder and
more intense, but the air remained still. Looking through the sky they
searched for the visual evidence that they needed to confirm their suspicions.
About a mile away to the north they made eye contact with it. The large
funnel shaped menace. It was a tornado. The wind came in a rush that
almost knocked their drunken bodies into the ditch.
Their
instincts were the same. Run as fast as possible to Spikes house and
get into the basement. They jetted the rest of the way down Glengary
Rd. to the vacant field just in time to see a lawn chair zoom across
the horizon almost ten feet in the air. Dust was starting to fly and
hit their running bodies with the force of a sand blaster. As they raced
through the field and into the back yard of Spikes' house, they saw
a twelve foot canoe wrap itself around the top of a large maple tree
in Spikes yard.
When
they reached the side door to Spikes house, Spike reached out for the
door handle. The door crashed open and they were blown inside. They
had to be a sight, two drunken people forcing all their weight into
a door to close it against the strong wind.
They
stormed down the basement stairs, falling, slipping, and sliding. Turning
into his room they saw Spike's sister cowering in the corner. Spike
went over to her and comforted her. This was unusual for Spike, but
Doc figured that it was the alcohol that they had drunk. While this
was happening Doc found the radio and turned it on to the all weather
station. They all fell silent and listened to the radio and the noise
outside for what seemed like hours.
The
noise outside faded away after some time and the rain started again.
The radio told the listeners that there was still a tornado watch in
effect for Oakland and Maccomb Counties until 10:00 that night. They
all emerged from the basement to look around. Doc had found the soaked
bag with the Crown Royal in it, outside by the side porch of Spikes
house. Doc did not realize that he had dropped it in their haste to
reach the house and get inside. Ripping the bottle out of the bag and
box, Doc cracked it open. All three of them had a large hit from the
open bottle.
Looking
around they saw that the sky had lightened somewhat and the rain again
came down. The canoe was still wrapped around the top of the maple tree
and there was trash cans and debris all over the place. They walked
out into the street and looked left towards Glengary Rd. They saw people
running around and yelling. Looking back at the Spike home they found
it visibly secure, with no apparent damage.
"We
need to check my house," Doc told Spike.
With
serious protests from Spike's sister, they again wandered out the back
yard of Spike's house and across the field. Taking hits of the Crown
Royal as they walked.
Reaching
the center of the vacant field they discovered what all the fuss was
about. Four houses down from Spike's house, a single family home was
lifted off its basement and moved over about ten feet. The damage looked
minor so they kept going. Doc started to think about the condition that
they may find when they get to his house. Doc hoped it was all right.
TO
TOP
