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.



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