The Storm's Rage
by TD Cooper
http://www.tdcooperbooks.com
The Storm’s Rage
Thunder clapped in the distance, and the wind roared through the one-room schoolhouse. Our teacher excused class
early, instructing us to go home straight away before the storm hit.
“Dena, stay with me,” Patrick
whispered to me. I reached for his hand as we crossed the last step at the
bottom of the stairs. The other, younger students scattered, screaming into the
wind and blowing dust toward their homes. Miss Palmer closed the double doors
and with one hand on her hat, the other lifting her full skirts, she ran across
the dusty road, and into a waiting carriage. Patrick and I made a quick turn
and hid in the bushes.
“Pat, my dad will kill me if he
finds us together,” I whispered, looking up into the wicked, tumultuous sky.
There wasn’t a ray of sunshine or a spot of blue. The wind whipped and swirled,
ringing the bell on top of the building. My skirt flew up blinding me as
Patrick held me close.
“This storm is worse than I thought,
we need to get back inside,” Patrick said, holding me around the waist. The
wind pulled the door out of Pat’s hand and slammed into the inside wall. It
took both of us to close it.
“
Land sakes!” I exclaimed, giggling.
Land sakes!” I exclaimed, giggling.
“Listen…,” Patrick said, “Did you
hear someone scream tornado?” I stared at him wide-eyed.
“What should we do?”
“Get under the desk! I’ll see if
there are any blankets or coats, something,” he said, running off to the coat
closet.
I listened to the wind rattle the
slats on the schoolhouse and the bell ringing above my head. The thunder got
closer, and the rain began to fall. My
heart raced. Pat came back with two blankets and a woolen coat. He made us a
mat using the outerwear as a pillow. We laid in each other’s arms, imagining
all sort of deadly scenarios.
“Are we going to die?” I whispered.
Patrick gazed into my eyes and kissed me. I took that to mean, maybe. I kissed
him back.
“If we die at least we’ll be
together, and our feuding families will have to acknowledge our love,” Pat
whispered.
“I do love you.”
“Oh, good, I was afraid of how you’d
answer this next question…,” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “Marry me?”
“Really — Yes!” I shouted over the wind and rain.
“Hey, we use this building as a
church on Sundays. I’ll marry you right now and then our families, who have
been feuding for decades, maybe even centuries, will have to talk to each
other.
Patrick kissed me with the same intensity
as the storm. I responded, believing I’d never get another chance to share our
love, when we came up for air, it was
quiet, deathly quiet. The rainstorm had
paused as we walked out of the schoolhouse, not a leaf on a tree swayed, nor a
raindrop fell, but the devastation around us was unmistakable. A tornado had
hit the area.
The clouds parted, allowing the rays
of the sun to stretch to the ground, it was as if God was wrapping us in his
arms. How would we explain ourselves to our parents, I wondered, but it was
unimportant at this moment in this time, we were one, and we’d survived the horrible rage of Mother Nature.
