Last Tuesday afternoon, Larry and I were driving home from a doctor’s appointment in Brunswick. We had browsed in a few stores, purchased some new underwear, eaten some shrimp and then headed for home. We live a most exciting life. However, the rather uneventful trip took on a new light when we drove into Surrency. Suddenly I felt the wind whipping my big old Mercury Grand Marquis, slipping super fingers underneath the chassis and lifting. I grabbed the steering wheel with both hands and eased my foot from the accelerator. Larry forgot about his book and sat up to see what was going on.
“Look at those trees swaying and bending over there,” he commented. “The sky looks pretty dark toward Alma, too. We must be in for a storm.”
“Well, the car doesn’t leak,” I replied. “We’ll be home in a little bit.”
The wind buffeted the car as I drove, but the miles of pine trees along 341 lessened the wind’s intensity. I felt an instant change when the trees thinned out though. We called our dog-sitting grandson Stuart to check on the weather at the house.
“Everything’s fine here,” he assured us. “No rain, no wind. I’ll go ahead and take the dogs out just in case it starts raining any time soon.”
As we drove, the storm accompanied us. When we pulled up to our mailbox, the trees and shrubs in the yard were dancing wildly in the gathering darkness. As I opened the box, the phone rang.
“Grandma, where are you and Grandpa?” Stuart asked. “The storm is here; it came really fast.”
We hurried inside with the day’s mail and our packages just as the rains poured from the sky in torrents. Thunder rolled and lightning raced about the sky. Stuart and Larry dashed about unplugging computers while I ran off to check on my stove. I unplugged it, too, so it wouldn’t go the way of the old one—dead from a lightning bolt. Just as we finished, darkness filled the house and an eerie silence settled over us. No purring of refrigerators or freezers, no air- conditioning, no television—just intense silence. Larry and I sat in our recliners in the living room and Stuart sat on the couch when the first loud crash of thunder came, followed by lightening as bright as midday. Suddenly, Charlie, our 65lb. black lab leapt into my lap and sat trembling, looking fearfully at the windows.
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