At ten to six, we encountered a forming wall cloud. Everyone shouted and pointed. For a moment, opinions clashed and tempers flared, but it was quickly resolved.
At eight minutes to six, Ozrik and Roe course corrected after I judged the sky and its conditions. Lex steered us down a side street, and we landed under a large section of rotating clouds.
At two minutes to six, we crowded on a gravel road, necks craned to the swirling mass overhead, GoPros and headcams recording the show. Olivia pointed. Vern took the role of commentator. With his video camera, Noah panned the group, capturing expressions and reports. I snapped photos.
At four minutes after six, Maggie spotted the first sign of a funnel and pointed it out. For a moment, no one moved, gazes locked on the sky.
At five minutes after six, the funnel began its descent. We held our collective breaths. The chanting utterances of “come on, come on, come on” vanished into the wind.
As it neared the ground, whoops and cheers erupted as we encouraged it onward.
At eight minutes past six, the funnel connected with an explosive spray of debris, officially becoming a tornado. The wind roared like a freight train, whipping our hair and flapping our clothing. A riotous celebration swelled from the group. Inhibitions went out the window. We were no longer rivals in a competition. We were companions, chasing the same entertainment.
Maggie jumped into Vern’s arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, squealing with delight. He caught her, swinging her around as they jumped and cheered and made wolf cries at the sky.
High fives and back slaps.
Lex beat his chest, hooting and howling like a coyote.
Olivia threw her arms in the air, making goal posts and yelling, “Touchdown!”
Ozrik pumped a fist before hooking an arm around my shoulder and tugging me in for a crushing hug. His summer warmth and outdoor scent engulfed me. The embrace was brief, and he let go before it could be misconstrued as anything more than a friendly bro hug, but it was me who didn’t release him all the way. It was me who caught his hand and kept him in my orbit.
Lightning flashed. Random splats of heavy rain smacked us in the face and head. The wind howled and did all it could to knock us on our asses.
While everyone was too busy admiring the phenomenal act of nature so rarely seen this close, I leaned in and pecked a quick kiss on Ozrik’s lips.
His devilish smile appeared, and he quirked a questioning brow.
“Zap,” I said. “Do you feel it?”
He caught my nape and dragged me back in for another. “Since day one.”
The tornado was gorgeous, possibly an EF3, if I had to guess. Destructive in its beauty, I prayed for anyone who lived in its path that they be somewhere safe. She lasted nearly twelve minutes, weaving and swirling and eating up the ground as she moved east of us. We could have tried to get closer. Moved to intercept. A brief talk about laying the probe circulated, but in the end, we didn’t take flight.
We stayed where we were, shoulder to shoulder on the side of a county road, a few miles from our hometown, and soaked up the sight.
Ozrik’s pinky remained hooked with mine the entire time.
35
Ozrik
Tornado season wound down by mid-June, around the same time my mother was due for her first appointment with Dr. Jacob. It had been hell convincing her to go, but after promising to accompany her initially and not permanently leave home before she was more stable, she agreed.
Stella was trying, but I remained on alert. Too many years of her tricks made me leery.
We’d gone on a dozen more chases after encountering the EF3 near Elk City, but after witnessing a cluster of EF1s the following week, our luck ran out. Charles informed us that the show was set to air on July sixth. Eight full episodes, and he seemed wildly happy about how they turned out. We had been invited to the studio to view the pilot the following day, but otherwise we would be as in the dark as the audience, watching it unfold week by week.
The group’s mutual concern revolved around how Charles might decide to portray us individually. In essence, the editingwould determine how the audience saw us and if they felt we were worthy of a spot on the show. Olivia and I had originally been concerned about keeping our teams together. That concern had shifted, and every one of us now worried how we might handle the breakup of our newly formed ten-man group.
Oh, how far we’d come. I never thought there would be a day when I would combine my team with another and enjoy the results.
Gale and I had been dating for a little more than a month. We spent a lot of our nights at his house, since he had more privacy in the basement. Merrison treated me like another one of his kids and put me to work in the fields without blinking an eye. I didn’t mind helping out.
Although we hadn’t officially announced our relationship to the group, I suspected not a single person didn’t know the truth. It had become an unspoken rule that Gale and I always traveled together and shared a room. If we were caught getting handsy or being cutesy, our friends averted their eyes or pretended not to notice.
Gale had come out of his shell. He spoke and whispered more with his sister, suggesting they had mended their relationship.
