to the kitchen. Shoving aside the table with one hand, he threw open the cellar door, beyond thankful that he’d installed a new one along with a sturdy set of stairs. All but tossing Becca and CJ down those steps, he dropped down behind them and let the counterweight on the door slam it shut.
For a moment he stood there at the bottom of the steps in the pitch-black darkness, pumping damp air in and out of his lungs, heart racing as he waited for the light. Then he realized that if he wantedlight, he was going to have to provide it for himself. Still clutching Jemmy, who had a stranglehold on his neck, he let the clothing fall and reached into his back pocket for the flashlight, then flicked it on.
Becca stood a few feet away, jostling a screaming CJ. A trickle of sand drifted down from overhead, and Dan’s skull felt as if it was being compressed slightly.
“We’re okay,” he said, as if to reassure himself. “We’re okay.”
But he sensed the maelstrom whirling overhead, and the skin prickled on his arms and legs. Jemmy was trembling, and Becca’s face was ashen with fear. She looked up at the ceiling, jiggling the baby, and Dan wondered what she was hearing.
“Can you hear me?” he asked, and she lowered her gaze to his face, then gave him a nod. “Too loud?” She shook her head. Willing his heart to slow, he sucked in a deep breath through his mouth. It tasted of dirt, dampness and panic. Perhaps it was his inability to hear the storm that allowed him to calm himself. Now he had to calm the others. “Settle in. Get comfortable.”
He carried Jemmy over to a wooden box about as old as he was and carefully set her atop it. Shivering, she pushed hair out of her face and looked up at him with wide, solemn eyes, trusting him to keep her safe. He took stock. Becca had stored a jumble of things down here, including some of Abby’s canned peaches and pickled okra. He spiedan old kerosene lantern and went to check it for fuel, slipping past Becca and the baby in the narrow confines. Calmer now but still sniffling, the boy reached for him. Dan smiled, but took care of the lantern first. Luckily, it felt heavy with sloshing liquid.
“Matches?” he asked Becca, and she reached into a corner of a dusty shelf, coming up with a small box. While he lit the lantern, she pulled out two cheap, folding lawn chairs, the type with woven plastic seats, and placed them within the circle of light. To save the batteries, Dan switched off the flashlight and placed it, lens down, on one of the shelves that lined the narrow, dusty, underground room. When he turned to Becca, she handed him CJ, then followed the boy right into Dan’s arms, all soft and warm and woman. A moment later he felt Jemmy wrap herself around their legs.
“It’s okay,” he said against the top of Becca’s head. “Safe.” Had any woman ever smelled better than this one? he wondered, closing his eyes for a moment.
Thank You, God. Thank You. I know You woke me just in time.
CJ grabbed hold of his ear, but Dan wasn’t ready to give up that sweet, soapy perfume just yet. Presently Becca pulled away a little, and when she wiped the tears from her cheeks he realized that she’d been crying. She turned her face up and asked, “How did you get to us in time?”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Went fast.”
She punched him lightly in the midsection. “You took a big chance driving out here in this kind of storm.”
“You can’t hear tornado siren.”
“Neither can you.”
He chuckled, feeling the tension in his chest begin to loosen. Oddly, it made him feel a little weak in the knees. “Better sit.”
He pulled around one of the chairs and gingerly lowered himself into it, shifting the baby onto his knees. Jemmy had glued herself to her mother. Becca pulled the second chair close and sat down facing Dan, Jemmy on her lap. As she kept casting worried glances upward, Dan figured the storm must sound pretty fierce.
“What time is it?” she
For a moment he stood there at the bottom of the steps in the pitch-black darkness, pumping damp air in and out of his lungs, heart racing as he waited for the light. Then he realized that if he wantedlight, he was going to have to provide it for himself. Still clutching Jemmy, who had a stranglehold on his neck, he let the clothing fall and reached into his back pocket for the flashlight, then flicked it on.
Becca stood a few feet away, jostling a screaming CJ. A trickle of sand drifted down from overhead, and Dan’s skull felt as if it was being compressed slightly.
“We’re okay,” he said, as if to reassure himself. “We’re okay.”
But he sensed the maelstrom whirling overhead, and the skin prickled on his arms and legs. Jemmy was trembling, and Becca’s face was ashen with fear. She looked up at the ceiling, jiggling the baby, and Dan wondered what she was hearing.
“Can you hear me?” he asked, and she lowered her gaze to his face, then gave him a nod. “Too loud?” She shook her head. Willing his heart to slow, he sucked in a deep breath through his mouth. It tasted of dirt, dampness and panic. Perhaps it was his inability to hear the storm that allowed him to calm himself. Now he had to calm the others. “Settle in. Get comfortable.”
He carried Jemmy over to a wooden box about as old as he was and carefully set her atop it. Shivering, she pushed hair out of her face and looked up at him with wide, solemn eyes, trusting him to keep her safe. He took stock. Becca had stored a jumble of things down here, including some of Abby’s canned peaches and pickled okra. He spiedan old kerosene lantern and went to check it for fuel, slipping past Becca and the baby in the narrow confines. Calmer now but still sniffling, the boy reached for him. Dan smiled, but took care of the lantern first. Luckily, it felt heavy with sloshing liquid.
“Matches?” he asked Becca, and she reached into a corner of a dusty shelf, coming up with a small box. While he lit the lantern, she pulled out two cheap, folding lawn chairs, the type with woven plastic seats, and placed them within the circle of light. To save the batteries, Dan switched off the flashlight and placed it, lens down, on one of the shelves that lined the narrow, dusty, underground room. When he turned to Becca, she handed him CJ, then followed the boy right into Dan’s arms, all soft and warm and woman. A moment later he felt Jemmy wrap herself around their legs.
“It’s okay,” he said against the top of Becca’s head. “Safe.” Had any woman ever smelled better than this one? he wondered, closing his eyes for a moment.
Thank You, God. Thank You. I know You woke me just in time.
CJ grabbed hold of his ear, but Dan wasn’t ready to give up that sweet, soapy perfume just yet. Presently Becca pulled away a little, and when she wiped the tears from her cheeks he realized that she’d been crying. She turned her face up and asked, “How did you get to us in time?”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Went fast.”
She punched him lightly in the midsection. “You took a big chance driving out here in this kind of storm.”
“You can’t hear tornado siren.”
“Neither can you.”
He chuckled, feeling the tension in his chest begin to loosen. Oddly, it made him feel a little weak in the knees. “Better sit.”
He pulled around one of the chairs and gingerly lowered himself into it, shifting the baby onto his knees. Jemmy had glued herself to her mother. Becca pulled the second chair close and sat down facing Dan, Jemmy on her lap. As she kept casting worried glances upward, Dan figured the storm must sound pretty fierce.
“What time is it?” she
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