Sunday, May 1, 2011


It was kinda cloudy, it looked different, things weren't typical, that afternoon spent at home with mom was different. Jame's was upstairs with me when I heard her say "Jesus there is so much at stake." She sounded serious, it was unfortunate, how sad she looked to me in that instant in my mind. The day was growing dark, things were turning, the weather was getting angry. "Adam" mom called from the living room, I was in my bedroom watching ready for the rain to come. I was sitting on the window pane, I remember looking facing south, gazing out of my big window, resting my elbows I held my face in the palm of my hands. Routinely! after school, I waited for my friends there. The neighbors came home from school later then me. I went to the French immersion Catholic elementary, they went to the Protestant school. We came home at two separate times.  I remember looking over at Lauren's house and thinking how serene everything was. The sky was still blue, and it looked like the world was standing still in the faint ignition of what was going to be another spiraling replica of my life, really a vicious fire storm. "There isn't even any rain yet mom! " I hollered down, looking back hoping to see anyone returning home from school.
 "Adam" she yelled, encouragingly with a hint of that anxiety in her voice. James had already obeyed, met her demands and had come down. "Adam, get down here!" she insisted.  I knew what she was thinking, "but the storm was too far away" I said to myself. I can remember my brother smiling at me as I squabbled into the dinning room. It was, on account of the big windows, usually a brightly lite room with enough radiant heat in it to force the family to eat elsewhere on hot summer mornings. The windows faced north, and the clouds, I remember seeing them, they were funneling themselves over towards that familiar view of, the sky line, the city.
"Where's dad?" I asked my mother to her face directly. She didn't answer, the weather was conducting itself originally in front of me. I had never though of an even so seriously symptomatic type of event, it was a nice day I thought, but that was ten minutes ago, and the wind was howling. The trees were bustling, pushed, penetrated, by a powerful and cold wind. I ran to the family room, and found myself in a darkness looking through the window, facing the neighbors house's again. I saw Lauren's dad pull up in their big black Cadillac, I remember the hail dropping and the storm beginning, forcing her farther to carrier her in from the back seat.  I ran back to the dinning room, that residual heat simmering, the cold humidity rising.
"Hey mom" I asked, young squeamishly sitting myself back at the dinning room table, my legs still didn't touch the ground. My summer shoes left dirt marks on the socks at the lace holes from the dust. I had my head down facing the storm, we could see it from the house, we were at the top of the hill, "where is dad?" I asked again. My mom turned to me, twisted, tunneled and tired, " he's in the storm son." My heart sank and sang to my soul, and I forgot everyone and I saw my father in the storm. In my mind he was in his utility truck, and it was turned. The wind green tainted with the labor, the burden held by men, that man. The television was on and the news was read over and over accurately, descriptively, I was fascinated with my vision, the fusion of my imagination with the image I saw. The warning to go to the basement. My father had built our house in case of war, it was bunker, the storm had forgiven us and decided to send him, our bread winner, to find him and stress him with only nature's relentless fire. It was the excitement of skies, the atmosphere. I was glued to the T.V and the skies, they eventually let in with the rain, and the sunshine gained at a certain point. It was over, quickly, suddenly, expensively.
When my father came home I hugged him, worried, I was sullen in the sun that came through the windows that I sat at and watched for him patiently alone. He returned safe, without incident. He had managed to avoid the storm, but he was close enough to witness it's power and he thanked God in front of all of us that he had made it home to us safely. I was the only one listening. I wanted to tell him how excited I was that we were going to have to live in the basement.

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