This was a life or death choice with a small child in his arms; the last horrific moments before the tornado struck. There was no time for reflection or regret. Forcing Julia’s head into the crevice of his shoulder to shield her, he ran hunched over into the hallway. A three-foot tree branch whipped across the room, flying over their heads and missing them by inches. It would have impaled him had he been standing tall. At the top of the stairs, Tim was suddenly lifted off his feet and clung to the top newel post.
“Hold on!” he screamed.
Julia clung to his neck as the wicked wind whipped at their hair and clothes, the two of them hanging in the air like parachutists jumping out of an airplane. It was just like they showed in the movies—zero gravity, legs hovering above the ground. It took every ounce of strength Tim had in his massive body to hold on for dear life. His grip was slipping and his muscles burned. Debris flew everywhere, pelting them with dirt and bits of leaves. Toys flew by, and small pieces of furniture ricocheted off his hips and back.
And then everything stopped.
Tim landed on his feet with a thump, his muscles taut and tensed. Julia tentatively pulled back and looked into his face. Both of their chests were rising and falling in deep breaths.
“Are you okay?” He swept her hair back from her cheek, her precious skin perfect after the deluge of danger.
“Yes,” she managed to utter. She kissed him on the cheek and hugged him tightly around the neck.
“You’re so brave. I’m so proud of you.” He was shocked at what they had just been through, unscathed except for a few minor bumps and bruises.
A large crack sounded, and the two of them looked up. As the drizzle of rain came down into the house through a gaping hole where the roof used to be, he saw it. But it was too late. Throwing his body over Julia, the Georgia pine tree came crashing down on top of them.
And his world went silent.
***
Home alarms beeped out of synch in an eerie half-harmony, the path of the storm evident in the country club neighborhood. It lasted all but four minutes. Four minutes to cause severe damage to homes that were in the way. Four minutes to turn perfect yards and luxury cars into piles of metal and debris. The path of destruction looked like a war zone.
Neighbors cautiously came out of their basements, calling for each other and gathering in the street. Sirens could be heard coming closer—teams of firemen and medics slowly making a path through the wreckage, the roads choked with ruins.
“Is it over, Mama?” Jennifer whispered.
Pulling the long yellow folds of her gown from over their heads, she peered around the corner of the dark basement. Nothing seemed out of place except for the shattered panes of the window on the door leading out. The antique pool table stood regal, the sticks perfectly erect in the holder on the wall. The liquor bottles behind her on the large shelf appeared unscathed as if waiting for partygoers to come in and start mixing and mingling after the hoopla.
“Stay right here. Let me check around the corner.”
Jo-Jo whimpered as Jessica set her down on her soggy bottom. Her dress swished as she walked barefoot across the cold floor. Her big toe hit a shard of glass sending it skidding across the floor. Fragments of broken glass were everywhere and looked like crushed ice shimmering on the floor. Stepping back, she shone the flashlight up the stairs where the door remained shut. There was no sign of Tim or Julia.
“Jennifer? Come here and shine the light while I check the door up here, okay?”
“Okay, Mama.”
“Don’t go over there,” she pointed. “There’s some broken glass from a window. I don’t want you to cut your feet.”
The little girl did as she was told and held the phone in her hands, shining it up toward the door at the top of the stairs. Jessica turned the knob and pushed, but the door wouldn’t budge. She used her shoulder to try to force it open. No such luck.
“It must be sealed shut from all that pressure,” she thought out loud. Using the palm of her hand, she pounded on the door.
“Tim? Julia? Can you hear me? The door is stuck.” Pressing her ear against the wood, she waited for a beat before hitting the door for a second time, her heart pounding with the anticipation of seeing them again. “Tim?”
Lifting the long gown so she wouldn’t trip, she treaded lightly back down the stairs and picked up her toddler. “I need some shoes so I can try the other door, but there’s glass everywhere.”
“What about Daddy’s flip-flops, Mama?”
She perked up. “Flip-flops? Where?”
Jennifer pointed the light to the closed door of the storage room where a pair of flip-flops sat against the wall. Stephen was such a germaphobe, hating to go barefoot into the dank space, purposefully leaving flip-flops by the door. Quickly, Jessica slipped her feet into them, thankful for her weird ex.
“Let’s try the other door now. Girls, stay back.”
The Kaufman home was typical in the area with a walk-out basement. Shuffling through the glass, she turned the deadbolt and tried to open the door and could only crack it a few inches before it stopped against a large tree that had fallen. The humidity seeped in, the outside smell reminding her of Pine-Sol.
“Darn,” she mumbled, trying to force the door open, jolting Jo-Jo back and forth in the process. The baby started to fuss.
