Brown Eyes in the Storm

"Oh hey, John. Enjoy your nap?" she held out the pots in her hands. "Can you give me a hand right quick, I would like to try and get a few more dug up before the storm gets bad and they get beat to dead the by the rain."

"Wendy, they are broadcasting tornados nearby and you're pulling flowers? Get your butt in here!"

"But I just planted these last week? They come up really easily. I might be able to save them. Please."

Stepping out into the warm drizzle, my feet on the wet patio stones I moved past her took the handles of the wheel barrel and before she could protest rolled it through the open kitchen door and across into the dining room. Her following me the whole time. Ignoring her protest the dirt on the floor, I walked back to the glass doors and slid them shut.

"John!"

Turning, I took hold of her by the wrist and bodily dragged her to the living room. The banner on the bottom of the TV was showing local area names and the broadcaster was describing the safe areas of a house. Then the camera switched to show pictures of the white capped Gulf. I pointed at the screen.

"Wendy, take a good look and then look at me. Hell. Is. Coming. Towards. Us!" I looked into her face trying to see what was going on behind her eyes. "We are not in a safe place, not going to be in a safe place till maybe some time tomorrow. If then. They are calling for wind gusts in excess of a hundred miles an hour by midnight."

"That's why I wanted to try and save my Nasturtiums. Like I said I just planted them, no reason to let the heavy rains destroy them. They should be safe in the dining room, certainly if I'm still around to get them replanted by tomorrow afternoon, they will be fine."

I saw it then. Didn't understand it at first but I saw it. There was a new fatalistic feel to her, which she had never had before. Years of memories of her, and her never being this way, went into conflict. Then I remembered what she had told me earlier. That she wasn't scared for herself, but that she was afraid for "me" to stay. Wendy wasn't in denial of what was coming, as I had thought, but simply didn't seem to care if she lived through it. She was making plans based on living but at the same time was looking at it as if she wasn't going to. No. No, not as if she wasn't going to ... but as if it didn't matter to her if she did.

I turned her wrist loose, and placed a finger over her lips to still the continuing diatribe on her plants.

"Wendy ... I love you," I said, repeating what I had told her earlier in the day. The effect of those three words still seemed to hit her hard. But then she seemed to shrug them off as well.

"I love you too, John but ...." Her tone dismissed what I had said. As if my words had been simply noiseless air. "I have spent a lot of time in my garden and I won't see this little storm damage all that hard work. I need to be getting the rest of those ..."

It's the divorce, I realized even as I was wondering if she had gone mad. Jason leaving her, walking away from twenty plus years of marriage, coupled with her son treating her as if her help is never wanted, had given Wendy the idea that she was not needed. This bit of insight hit me harder than the coming storm surge. The memory of how hard she had hugged me back in April, how easily she had come into my arms this time. The desire to have me "Hold her" and the smiles that she got when I told her that what she did for me was a comfort. That I appreciated it.

"Come on. Let's go get them dug up," I told her with a smile. "But gardening is not on my list of hobbies, so it will cost you. Lunch and a kiss? Sounds fair to me."

She stopped in mid argument and looked at me blinking. Almost as if she hadn't heard me right or had expected a different response. The type of response that Jason might would have given her. I had been present for a few of those, or heard of then after the fact.

"Let me get my boots." I headed for the garage door.

"Thank you," she said it so softly I hardly heard the words. When I looked back I saw a single line of tears run down from her eyes. I turned around and smiled at her.

"You don't need to thank me; it's something important to you." My smile turned into a grin. "We'll just have to get it done quickly, so I can get my chance to kiss you again."

She smiled at me and shook her head. "What I have to do to get a man to help me in the garden. I swear!"

** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

Resting my hand on the big glass French doors, I could feel the vibration the constant wind was making. Worry that this door, not part of the original house but something put in later, would not stand up to what was coming and that the kitchen behind me would soon be facing hurricane force winds sent a chill through me. I looked out at that darkening sky. The sun was sinking quickly behind all those clouds and soon there would be a monster at the door.

The monster, Ivan.

I had given some thoughts to trying to pull down part of the fence, between this house and the next, for wood to board this door up with, but the wind had been doubling in force every hour and the rain getting heavier by the minute. Basically, I gave that idea up figuring that the full force of the hurricane would snap those thin fence boards as easily as kindling. Besides, it was too late. The radio was warning all residents, who had not evacuated, to stay inside. I looked at the big "X" of duct tape I had put across it. Would have to do, I guess.

SLAM! Jumping, I turned in surprise, when I heard the front door close hard. "Wendy?"

"Yeah, it's just me." She came walking into the kitchen and tossed me a bundle of clothing. "Here, go get out of those wet leather pants. Before you get chaffed raw."

The buddle I caught was a pair of black--faded to gray--sweat pants and a Florida "Gators" T-shirt. "Where did you get these?"

"Margret, that you met earlier, I gave her a call. Let her know we were doing okay. Her son is off at college, but he's about your size and age. I told here you were down here in a single change of clothes. She told me where they hid a house key and to help myself to anything you needed."

Tossing the pants over my shoulder, I looked at the shirt. "Well, the colors are right, but there is this great big Izod lizard on it."

"Don't give me no Illini-Pride-crap, John. Just go get into some dry clothes."

Laughing, I started towards the hall then stopped and looked back. "Want to come watch?"

"Ah, no thank you. I've seen you naked once today already. I think that's my limit." She made shooing motions wit the back of her hands. But I didn't budge.

"You have limits? Huh, I don't. You're right though." I smiled at her. "You have seen me; It's my turn to see you."

"HA!" She shook her head, smirking. "In your dreams, fun boy."

"Those are called fantasies. And yeah, you are in more than a few of them. Especially after seeing you in that one piece by the pool back in April." I let my eyes roam and gave a soft wolf whistle.

"GET!"

I left her blushed red as a beet.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

The howl began not long after dark, and like a wolf it would come and go. Rising and falling in intensity. The trees around the yard bending and the tops of the palms acting like green wind vanes. Rain lashed the sides of the house pounding at the windows. For an odd reason a scene from Night of the Living Dead came to mind. All the dead pounding on the sides of the house; I knew that identical sound was not far off. Before the night was over, certainly, this house was going to take hits from flying debris. I had already seen stuff tumbling past in the streetlights outside on the road.

Some of it not small, simply light. But before long heavier things would be flying past as well.

"What time is it?" she asked me from the hallway door. I looked over at her and saw her hugging herself. "And what time did they say the eye wall will pass through here?"

"It's just about seven-thirty. And some time after midnight. Come here. Sit with me." I moved to make room on the couch. I lowered the volume on the TV. The news was grim, but then it had been that for days.

She picked up the cat carrier by her feet and moved over to set it next to the coffee table. Tobias, sitting on the nearby chair, gave a plaintive meow and then took off out the room. Wendy sat down and snuggled in next to my side. "He thinks we're going to the vet. That's the only time I get his carrier out." She looked up listening to the wind. "Wow, those are some big winds."

I refrained from telling her what I knew. That those were only mild gusts compared to what was going to be howling outside in a few hours. With a sigh, I placed my arm around her and leaned my head till it rested on hers. "We'll make it through it."

"Oh, I know. I just wish you hadn't gotten yourself stuck here in the middle of this. Me being here is on my fool head. I was simply being greedy and not paying the mechanic to fix my car. Hoping, I guess, that somehow the part would get cheaper by waiting. Silly."

"We all do silly thing. Me coming here, knowing that was coming." I pointed out the window. "Well, my father would certainly call it that silly, stupid more likely. But I don't."

"Have you called your mom? Let her know where you are?" she suddenly asked. At my head shake she popped my leg. "John!"

"I'm not sure she would care," I said softly. "And I don't feel like another lecture from my father."

"Of course she would care. John, she's you mother. Martin may make me mad as a hornet at him, but I still love him and would be worried sick if I knew he was in the middle of something like this."

"Maybe the best reason not to call her then." I looked at her face. "And she would want to know why I was down here. She wouldn't like knowing it was because of you."

"I don't like knowing you're here because of me!" She gave a sniffle. "If anything happens to you, because of this, I will never forgive myself."

My hand moved to lift her chin; she reluctantly looked me in the eyes. I gave her a small smile. "I'm here by my choice. I would be nowhere else. No matter what." My thumb caught her tear and brushed it away. My lips quirked upwards. "Hey. I'm owed a kiss. I think I want to collect it."

She gave me a tired smile. "You're incorrigible. Fine, kiss me if you want to."

"I do. I really do." Leaning in, her hand on my chest stopped me as our lips were going to touch.

"John. This can't go any further than this. I ... can't let it." Her voice held a quavering. An emotion so on the surface it was trying to choke her. "No matter what this has to be the last kiss."

The back of my fingers stroked her cheek. "Then I will have to make it last all night."

"Incorrigible ...!"

My lips silenced her words but turned them into a moan. As I pulled her to me with a fierce hunger to taste those lips, to taste not only them but so much more of her. I wanted to devour all of her. The gasp for breath, which I breathed in from her mouth, when my hand cupped her breast, was sweet and hot. Then there was an answering passion rising from her. A hand appeared on my thigh, caressing the muscle but it stopped suddenly when her hand passed over the end of my hardening cock. I caught that hand, and placed it palm flat back on top of me, before she could move it away. When my hand returned to her breasts she moaned my name and gripped my cock through these borrowed sweat pants.

Then my hand was under her shirt, on her warm skin, on even warmer cotton, cupping her breast through her bra. Her mouth was all but attacking mine now as she kissed me back with a fury. I moved my fingers up to pull the bra cup out the way and her hand was going towards my waistband ... when there was a tremendous noise against the front door! As if a collapsing black smith shop had slammed into it.

Jumping apart, as if we were embarrassed teens whose dad had walked in, we looked at each other. Both of us panting, eyes hot, and noses flared. Then she got up and resettled her shirt. I followed her to the door. A metal trash can--street number spray-painted on the side of it-- was on the porch resting again the front door.

"That's from two blocks over. Wow." She said in a soft whisper. "John ..."

"Yeah?"

"Call your mother. Just let her know." I watched her flee the room, down the hallway to her bedroom and shut the door.

Taking out my Razr I flipped it open and hit the number.

"Yeah. Hey, Mom. I just wanted to tell you ..."

** ** ** ** ** ** **

The lights went out all at once, with not even a flicker of warning. Since eight thirty the winds had gotten ridiculous outside so I had been expecting it, but that sudden darkness enveloping you ... it's still a shock. Like a twig snapped behind you in the woods, your spine goes bolt straight. I flipped on my flashlight with a primitives need for light. On this night, darkness, was as spooky to me as to any of my cave dwelling ancestors. It hid a giant predator, whose frightening howl we could hear all around us. Wendy turned her small flashlight as well, probably for the same reasons. She started to get up from next to me.

"I'll get the ...." A huge crash sounded outside towards the garden making me jump and Wendy scream in surprised fright. She huddled into me, terrified.

"Easy," I whispered. "That was probably a big tree limb falling. We're going to have a lot of that. Now just relax and let me go check. And what were you going to go get?"

"The radio. From the kitchen counter. And my battery lantern from the hall closet." She picked up a pillow and hugged it to her chest as I stood up.

"I'll get them. Sit tight."

The silly cat in his carrier hissed at my feet as I walked past him and into the kitchen. Through the visibly vibrating sliding glass door I saw the backyard being lashed by rain and there was a large branch, where that hadn't been one before, that I thought was the cause of the noise but, as I got closer to the door, I saw that it was a part of it. There was an oak tree down across the side of her yard. Only the top of it seemed to be in the garden, most of it was in the neighbor's yard who owned the tree. Even fallen, the winds tore at the old tree's branches. Making mockery of its once great strength now that it was down.

In my bright bar of light I saw other trees bending, leaning over "too far" in the gusts. Given that the worst of Ivan was still hours away they too would most likely be on the ground by morning. Grabbing the radio, I went and found the closet and the lantern and returned to her side.

"Did you see what time it was when the power went out?" she asked me as I sat down and switched on the lantern and off my flashlight. I took out my phone.

"About five minutes back so ... about nine-thirty." I moved my arm and let her snuggle back into place at my side. I felt her shiver as the howl increased and then died back down. The house gave a soft sound then, a moaning creak. The windows had been giving off small rattles for an hour but this was new. I looked around but decided there was nothing I could do but hold her tighter. The time to "do" had, for the moment, passed.

There was a whistle sound then, an eerie half moan. It built to a banshee like noise as the winds outside roared. We both looked back at the front door.

"That was just the wind, right?" she asked.

"Yeah. We're going to get a lot of that before the night is out I'm afraid. The harder the winds get the more nooks and crannies it will find to whistle through." I sat back, taking her with me, she leaned her hand onto my shoulder again. We sat there in the darkness, a single bulb away from blackness too mind numbing to deal with, listening to the howl. When the door screamed at us again she shivered.

"Talk to me," she said.

"About what?"

"I don't care, anything. How is school? How's work? How much your foot inching, I don't' care, just something to make ... that sound ... go away." She looked up at me her eyes wide with fright. "I've made a mistake, John. I didn't think about it being like this."

"Wendy? It's just the wind. Like blowing on a penny whistle, or an open bottle." I brushed a lock of hair back from her eyes with the backs of my fingers. "College is fine, I will have to try and catch back up these few days, but I'm doing ... okay ... in most of my classes. I was planning on taking a long ride on my bike for Labor Day weekend away, just didn't know I was going to do it in one day. Ah, I really like my job. We spend most of the night tearing old computers down and tinkering with things. Getting them working again. I have this massive "Frankenstein" server we've been trying to get running right. Outdated junk, but the owner needs the data off of it."

"That's sounds like something right up your alley. I remember all the old TVs and radios you used to tear apart." She smiled. "And, amazingly, more often than not you would get them to work again. Jason told me you liked to go hunt old tech stuff at thrift stores. Still do that?"

"I go on EBay mostly. But yeah, I still feel the pull of a good thrift store hunt now and then. The smell of old motherboards, that cat pee and cigarette smell so fused into the case you have to disassemble it outside. Really though. It's the new stuff. The top of the line, not even out on the market yet, that's what really fascinates me. There is some awesome stuff coming out here soon. Hell, this is a good example." I took out my phone and handed it to her. "There's nothing like that out anywhere else. Motorola has totally rethought the idea of what a cellular telephone should be like."

"It's tiny. Not sure I like the tiny part." She turned it over in her hands. "I do like that it metal. It feels like it could take a good solid whack. I drop mine at least once a week, it seems." She handed it back to me. "Remind me, when it's time to replace mine and I may try one of those. I wouldn't remember the name now if you told me though." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath when the wind screamed. "So ... any girlfriends?"

"You."

A soft scoff, "Okay, how about any girlfriends that are under the age of fifty?"

"Still you." My smile was soft. "Sorry, my math skills are terrible. I keep taking my age and adding twenty-four and getting thirty-nine. That can't be right can it?"

"Flatterer."

Reaching over, I took her hand into mine. With a slow gentle pressure I mover her hand till it rested over my heart. "Not when it comes from here."

The look in her eyes then was worth nine hours on a motorcycle. It was worth any amount of fear this night brought to me. Then, when she smiled, I would take anything that came at me. Whatever Ivan brought to the table, even the loss of my own life was worth that one smile. Lifting her hand from my heart, I kissed the backs of her fingers.

Outside the winds howled, trees broke, twisted and leaned over. Falling scattered like a child's pickup sticks. Closer to the beach the storm surge was already tearing at the coastline. Changing it forever. Destroying buildings for miles and miles all up and down the Florida panhandle and into Alabama. Thousands of people were sitting in the dark as scared as we were. Houses were losing roofs.

Pulling Wendy to me I knew, I didn't even want to think it, but I knew. Out there in the storm someone was hurt. Someone was hurt badly. Before this night was over there would be people who lost their lives. Families that would be in tears for weeks to come, morning the people that this storm tore from their lives.

The storm screamed at us huddled there in its path! A shrill, mocking sound. Banshee screams, baby cries, the screaming ghostly spirits of a thousand souls from hell could not come close to the simple whistle of wind through a small crack beside a window.

And through all of that madness, I held the hand of a woman. Talked to her of simple things. Plans for new computers, stupid stuff really. I flirted, and she smiled it off. Possibly the most terrifying night of my life passed in so very slow seconds.