Gone with the WindbyStangStar06©
Hi folks. I have lots of warnings about this one. First off this is a long story. So those of you who'd been looking for one of those can be happy, everyone else should probably break it up into chunks and read it at their leisure. Secondly after all of the wild and crazy things I've done over the past month or so, this story has no time travel or alens or sci fi. This is a story about normal people going through an abnormal situation and moving on. Last week AlleyKat and I lost a person that was very dear to us. For a few days I didn't write a line, Kat had to pretty much make me start writing again. I was also unable to hook up with my usual partner in crime becuase she celebrated a very big very important birthday and had to paint several towns red. So for this story I received help in the editing department from a friend of ours Callista Fornio (her internet handle is CalliFornio) be nice to her because she's a college student (Go Blue) majoring in English and this is the first thing she's ever edited. Any goof ups in the story or plot are mine, but if you like it say nice things about her in your comments. SS06
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I stood there with tears in my eyes as I watched the two men. One of them was David...my David. He held the other guy, Steve Windham, down and pounded him, while a few of Steve's friends looked on in shock.
The worst thing about all of it was that it was my fault. I don't think it was totally my fault, I think it was mostly the storm. Let me go back.
I married Dave Thomas ten years ago when I was twenty three years old. I'd been a waitress after dropping out of college and Dave started coming into the restaurant I worked at. He was handsome and friendly and we knew a few of the same people. We ended up dating and things just got to the point where I couldn't imagine living the rest of my life without him.
Luckily, he felt the same way and after living together for a year we got married. We have all of the typical things that most young couples have. We have our house, of course, two beautiful children, three cars and a fairly good nest egg put away. Or at least we did until the storm came along and changed all of that.
The storm was awful. Michigan isn't one of the usual tornado disaster states. We usually have a few small twisters that do some damage in a limited area but nothing like the one we had last year that started all of this.
I remember it like it was yesterday. I'd gotten up that morning and made breakfast for the kids before they left for school. I didn't have to make anything for Dave because he was out of town on business and I was pissed about it.
That business trip had really angered me because it had made me take stock of my life. I actually had no life. I had no identity. I'm not Lisa Thomas. Lisa Thomas doesn't exist. At least I didn't exist as a complete and independent person. I felt like I only existed as a reflection of the people around me. I'm Dave's wife, not Lisa. I'm Kyle's mom, not Lisa. I'm Wendy's mom, not Lisa. I couldn't remember the last time I'd done something alone and by myself or for myself. No matter; I don't exist.
Okay, I did have lunches with my friends every once in a while. But those only made the problems worse. Those lunches only served to further illustrate, how little I mattered in the world. Most of my friends worked outside of their homes. And most of my friends weren't married.
So every time we got together all we talked about was their jobs or their careers or some new guy they were chasing. Or some guy or guys they'd hooked up with. To tell the truth, before I met Dave, I was kind of a slut. But now it was ten years later and all of my once steady college friends had caught up to me in wildness and left me behind.
When I compared my life to theirs, mine seemed dull. I mean I love my kids and I truly love Dave, but there are times when I wish I'd met him later rather than sooner. There are times when I also wish that we'd waited before having our kids.
And I know that lots of you are thinking that since my kids are in school, I could go out and get a job. Well, I tried that. The problem is that while I was in school, I wasn't really good at it. I wasn't anywhere near serious enough about going to classes and I bombed out big time and wasted a lot of money. I ended up quitting college and becoming a waitress.
So a few years ago, I registered for classes at the local community college. Dave was very supportive. He encouraged me to go and bought me a laptop and helped me with my homework and everything. The problem was, of course, me. I just didn't have the focus for even the remedial classes that I needed to establish a baseline.
They started me off with the basics. They gave me Literature, Creative writing, and Mathematics. After those I'd have Algebra, History and a general Science class. Those basic six were prerequisites for the more specialized and intense courses I'd need to take once I declared a major. They were important though, because they contributed to my overall GPA. Failing one of them, might've resulted in needing to repeat it, to get into some of the classes I needed when I figured out what I was going for.
My faculty advisor assured me that I didn't need to worry though, because any high school kid could pass the classes. They were intended to just get me back in going to school mode. The problem was that I just couldn't do it. I couldn't sit in that classroom with a bunch of kids and young people and read page after page of drivel. I don't like poetry. I found Shakespeare to be boring and not even vaguely connected with real life. I don't know where commas go and no one uses them anymore anyway. I couldn't write three pages about what I'd done over the summer to save my ass. Dave ended up dictating my entire paper to me. I had never, ever at any time in life been good at Math. I still think that LCD's, either have something to do with TCBY, or you listen to music on them. Dave was beyond helping me at that point. He was coming home after working all day, and spending another two or three hours trying to explain my Math homework to me. After a while, it was easier and less time consuming for him to just do the problems for me.
Of course when the time came for the tests, I failed them all because I had no clue of what was actually going on in any of the classes. School just wasn't for me. That meant that the jobs I was most qualified for had something to do with my life experience. I considered going back to waitressing and eliminated that from consideration. Why the hell should I stand on my feet all day catering to people when I did that at home already anyway?
So after dismissing school and work, I looked elsewhere for stimulation. I decided to spice things up with Dave. For months we experimented with slightly kinky sex. Dave was willing to try everything I suggested, until I brought up swinging. He shut me down so fast I still get dizzy thinking about it.
Maybe that was what made it seem so attractive. Dave is a good guy. He rarely ever refuses me anything. He works his ass off so that his kids and I can have almost anything we want, whether we need it or not. Swinging was the first thing that Dave ever just abjectly refused to do for me.
So I decided that I'd slowly move him away from his abject refusal. I brought up the possibility of us doing a threesome with one of my more attractive single female friends. I figured he's go for that in a heartbeat. After all, what man doesn't want to have two women, right?
My husband Dave that's who. Dave wanted no part of a threesome. So that shut down all of my aspirations in that department. He also started looking at me funny. I should point out here, that there was nothing wrong with our sex life. Dave had always been a very good lover. He was probably the best I'd ever had. The problem was...well when you eat steak every night, you start to want some chicken or some fish.
When we had our next luncheon and I told the girls about it, they were disappointed too. I didn't find out until later, that they'd been hoping that I'd have picked one of them to be the third person in my threesome.
For a couple of weeks Dave watched me intently. I didn't figure out why until I noticed the computer one afternoon while I was cleaning up the office. Dave had been reading a bunch of stories on the internet by writers like, CPete, Saxon Hart, FD45, HueDogg and some guy named Just Plain Bob. At first I didn't figure it out until I noticed that they were all stories about women who cheated on their husband. After I figured that out I noticed that not very many of them ended up with the guy forgiving his wife and moving on with their lives together. Most of them ended up with the women pretty miserable. That Just plain Bob guy did apparently believe in forgiveness but he was in the minority and some of the things he did in some of his stories, Dave was never going to even consider.
When Dave got home that night, I confronted him.
"I'm not cheating on you Dave," I told him. "I have never even considered being with another man since we got together." The look of relief on his face was very clear. He hugged me then for the first time since I'd asked about the three-way.
"Lisa," he said. "I love you so much. I think I'd just be too jealous to ever share you, even with another woman. I want you all to myself, forever."
He went up the stairs to change out of his work clothes. I felt so much better that I couldn't believe it. The problem was that I didn't know why I felt better. I still felt like there was something missing in my life. I still had that feeling that the world was passing me by and that everyone else was doing exciting things and I was just stuck in the mud.
More and more I found myself daydreaming about my carefree college days. So that was the mood I was in on the day the storm hit.
My kids are very bright. So they go to a special school for gifted children. It was put together by the under-secretary of education under the Clinton administration. Charles Xavier had a lot of interesting theories about childhood development and helping children reach their full potential. Xavier's school for gifted children is one of the best schools in our area. To be truthful, I really wasn't sure what all of the hype was about. The most gifted thing about most of the brats that attended the school was the fact that their parents had the gift of being able to afford to send them there.
Anyway, we lived in the suburbs that were pretty far removed from the inner city. The school was located downtown near the river front. It was a long bus ride of about forty minutes for the kids every morning. I always offered to drive them but they loved being on the bus with their friends.
As spring had finally sprung, the grass was getting greener and the days were getting sunnier. We'd also had a lot of rain and a few thunder storms. That morning I'd decided to go and try shopping at the new farmer's market they'd set up near the river front. I had visions of buying fresher fruits and veggies and paying far more reasonable prices for them.
Of course that wasn't what happened. I got down there and was victimized by a group of yuppies who'd all bought farms and retired because they couldn't handle the stress of the rat race. They all swore that they were growing pure organic fruits and veggies that had never been sprayed with pesticides or any type of chemicals and therefore were far healthier for my family.
It sounded good when they said it. And when they described how they had lovingly pampered each and every single apple through each and every day of its growth, I was sold. The problem came when I discovered that these fruitcakes had actually given every fucking piece of fruit a name and treated them like family members. That also meant that there was simply no way they could let them go for anything less than five dollars per apple. So I ended up not buying nearly as much fruit as I'd thought.
I later also found out that pure organically grown fruit doesn't have any preservatives, so it goes bad a lot faster. And when I say a lot faster, I mean a lot faster. Those beautiful apples with names went bad overnight. I also read a report on a study from independent farmers that proved that organically grown fruit is actually no healthier for you than any other fruit.
But back to the story, I was there in the market trying to arrange financing for a package of strawberries when the sky started to go dark. I could tell it was going to rain and soon. Some of the farmers were loading their produce and then their kids, in that order, into their trucks.
I grabbed my bags and put them in the back of my SUV. I decided that it might be smart to get home too. I'd been planning on stopping off at the kids' school, but decided to let that wait for another day.
Almost as soon as I got into my truck the wind started howling and blowing things over. I smiled and thought about how lucky I was that I'd left when I did. As I took off down the road headed for home I was glad to be in my giant truck. It was a gas guzzler but it was very durable and very stable.
Before I even got on the road the rain was coming down in sheets and the winds were stronger than anything I remembered driving in. I decided to get on the freeway to get out of town and there were police cars with sirens blaring almost everywhere I looked.
I turned on the radio to get some news about the storm and couldn't believe what I heard.
"Conditions for Wayne, Oakland and Macomb counties are conducive to the development of a funnel cloud. Listeners are advised to seek shelter immediately..."
"Great," I thought. "A possible tornado and I just put our lawn furniture out. I needed to get home ASAP."
Before I'd driven even a mile the water on the ground was rising. I smiled again because my truck has huge ground clearance. Too bad for those people in their tiny sports cars, it sucks to be them. Many of them had to drive around seeking alternate routes as the level of the water swiftly rose. I tried to go down a ramp onto the freeway but the cars were backed up and not moving.
I saw a siren as a cop on a motorcycle slowly drove by and told us to get off of the ramp and seek shelter because they were closing down the freeway due to flooding. I put the truck in reverse and that was when I started to worry. If I had to drive all the way home via the surface streets, it would take me a lot longer. Shit, my lawn furniture would be gone. It would probably be destroyed or simply blown away by the heavy winds.
I started driving through the city as slowly as I could. I looked out for trouble and found it often. Things seemed to be getting worse by the moment. The winds were howling so loudly that I could hear them through my closed windows. My SUV's high profile wasn't making things any easier either. I could feel the truck threatening to blow over at regular intervals.
There were also a couple of times that I saw trees blowing down and one of them blocked the road I was on and caused me to have to backtrack a couple of blocks.
The man on the radio was absolutely no help. He scared me more than the weather did. He made it seem as though the end of the world was occurring at that moment.
A crash of thunder, so loud that I thought my head would split open, rent the air. I saw lightning strike a power pole off to my side and wires were down and crackling. Before I knew it I was trapped in the car with no way to move either forward or back. To the front the downed power pole blocked my way. To the rear the live wires which could possible electrocute me. I rolled down my window to try to see behind me.
The rain poured into the window soaking me. I looked behind the truck and could see the wires crackling. I got out of my truck and heard a scream. "Move lady," someone shouted. At the same time I heard a cracking sound. Instinct took over and I just ran blindly. The shout, coupled with long forgotten genetic memory and my blind dash probably saved my life.
The loud cracking that I heard was the sound of another tree coming down and it landed squarely on the roof of my truck. If I had hesitated, you'd be reading my obituary now instead of this story.
The wind was blowing so hard I could barely stand against it and my clothes were soaked to the skin.
"Over here, lady," I turned in the direction of the barely audible shout. There was a man who looked vaguely familiar to me standing just inside of a building that looked like it had seen better times. But it did have a heavy metal door and it was made of concrete. I headed towards the building as fast as my legs could carry me, which with the winds I was fighting wasn't very fast.
As I got near the building, yet another tree came down near where the lump of twisted metal I used to call my truck stood. The man grabbed my arm and pulled me inside of the building where thankfully it was dry.
The building turned out to be an outdoor storage unit for a construction and landscaping company. There were four other men huddled inside of the building. One of them was in his early twenties and another had to be at least sixty. They were all shaking their heads and talking about how terrible the storm was. They had a small radio and were getting disaster reports and weather reports.
It turned out that the storm system that had moved into our area had produced several tornados already and the national weather service was asking that everyone remain indoors for the next three hours.
Even as that registered some large object blown by the wind crashed into the side of the building. All of the lights went out. Two smaller dim bulbs that were anchored to the wall came on.
"Main power is probably down," said my companion. "Those two are probably on some type of battery powered emergency circuit."
I looked at him and nodded. He smiled. "You really don't remember me do you Mrs. Thomas?" he asked.
I shook my head. "That's actually a good thing," he smiled.
"Why is that a good thing?" I asked.
"Let me use my psychic powers," he said. "Your name is Lisa Thomas. You have two children; a boy and a girl. Your son's name is Kyle and he wants to be a baseball player. Your daughter's name is Wendy. You don't live in the city, but your kids go to Xavier's..."
"How do you know all of these things about me?" I asked warily.
"Your daughter Wendy has two friends that she hangs out with in school. The twins, Melinda and Belinda are my daughters," he smiled. "Wendy has been to my house several times."
I recognized him then and felt more at ease. "Why did you say that it was a good thing that I didn't remember you?" I asked.
"Because I'm not often home," he began. "So when you drop your daughter off or pick her up you wouldn't see me. The last time that you and I laid eyes on each other was at the PTA meeting about extending the school day. You were totally for it and I was totally against it. You and I ended up having a shouting match across the floor and they had to silence us. After the meeting we saw each other from a distance and you called me an insufferable asshole. I heard you and called you a bitch."
I laughed. "And you still saved my life?" I asked.
"We may be on different sides of some educational issues, but basically we're the same sort of people," he said. "What we both want is what we think is going to make life easier and better for our kids."
"You're right about that," I said. I looked him over.
"Steve Windham," he said, extending his hand.
Just as I took his hand there was another huge crash as something large and heavy hit the side of the building again.
"Holy shit that was a car," said one of the guys.
"Close that God damned door and lock it," said one of the other guys. "The winds are too high out there and I have a really funny feeling."