Twister
by Jack Swenson
The lake folks went outside to watch the tornado. It was headed their way according to the news. They hauled lawn furniture into front yards so they could get a better view of the lake. Women brought out coffee and cookies. Men smoked pipes and cigars.
"I seen the 1919 cyclone," said Albert. "I was there. We hid in the basement. Dad put his arms around us and prayed in Norwegian." Carl said the trees in town were covered with women's bloomers after the wind died down. "It looked like Christmas!" he said. Edson claimed the twister picked up a horse on one side of town and set it down a mile away unharmed. Albert said his cousin stuck his head out a window to see what was going on and got hit by a two by four. "It kilt him," Albert said.
The light failed, and the wind blew, and when it began to rain, everybody went inside. Nobody had a storm cellar at the lake, so they watched through unshuttered windows. The rain pelted down, it got dark, and they couldn't see a thing. The wind roared like a thousand locomotives. Then it brightened again, the rain stopped, and the sun--low in the west--peeked out and turned the lake shore into a garden of sparkling light.
Buzz Estvold, who was only nine, sneaked out to look for dead bodies. All he found was an overturned rowboat. As he climbed the steps from the lake, he heard the song of a single bird hidden in the upper branches of tall elm tree. Everything was shiny and dripping wet.
|
14
favs |
1139 views
15 comments |
273 words
All rights reserved. |
Author's Note
In Minnesota, nobody gets very excited when the wind blows a little.
Didn't read your comment until after I read the story. I knew I was back in the upper Midwest when I read "I seen the 1919 cyclone," Reminded me of my syntax-challenged early youth in Wisconsin. Miss those storms and those lakes. This brought them all back, Jack.*
Nice one, Jack! I feel so at home in some of these worlds you create. No fuss, no muss. And "Buzz Estvold, who was only nine, sneaked out to look for dead bodies". Favorito.
Good piece, Jack. Great atmosphere with this one. I like it.
"The light failed, and the wind blew, and when it began to rain, everybody went inside. Nobody had a storm cellar at the lake, so they watched through unshuttered windows."
I enjoyed this. The subtle control and atmosphere is great.
"Albert said his cousin stuck his head out a window to see what was going on and got hit by a two by four. "It kilt him," Albert said."
What everyone else said. Solid piece that really comes to life.
Love it. It kilt me cause it felt like it was comin'.
fave
Spent a lot of quality time in the basement when I lived in Illinois.
Great story from a great story teller. fave
Not a superfluous word or a word out of place. The tornado didn't disturb your prose.
*
Yeah, good writing. And an excellent story. I lived in a tornado alley in Michigan for a while. And I must admit I was curious enough to go outside and watch in bad weather. Never got too close to one, though, thank the high heavens.
I've been through one or two of them tornadoes myself, Jack! Brought back vivid memories of them as a kid. I love the last paragraphs, following Buzz through those serene moments that often sear after catastrophic happenings. Brilliant resolution.
Fave.
Love this. Poetry in here. I want more, but somehow it's just enough.
So so gorgeous, the voice is spectacular, the names, the way you utilize vernacular speech patterns to emphasise the story, wonderful!
*
you described this beautifully.
Well, if adults pull up a chair to watch a tornado, small wonder a boy wanders around checking for dead bodies. Thrill seekers! *
Love the contrast between the restrained tone and the subject matter of the tornado. The horse being hurled and landing unharmed is a great touch.