Page 24 of Baker
“So yeah, welcome to Tornado Alley,” I called out. As much as I wanted this bunch of city boys to learn about life in Oklahoma, we could have done without that life lesson.
“Does that happen a lot?” Bella shakily asked.
“More than I wished,” I replied, patting Granny’s hands before standing. She was fine. Lord only knows how many twisters the old gal had lived through on this patch of land. More than I was old, I would wager. I glanced around at the scared faces illuminated with cellphone flashlights. “Everyone okay?”
A mumble of shaky yeahs and two goat blats. Cool.
“What about your arm?” Hanley asked, wiggling around goats to touch my shoulder gently.
“It’s fine.” The rain still pounded down on the metal doors. I looked at Hanley eyeing me with a touch of disbelief. “Really. It’s fine. Hairline at worst. I’ve had worse.” Granny began clucking about getting my arm into a splint. “See what you did?” I whispered to him before assuring my grandmother that no splint was required. “We’ll just sit here a bit longer, catch our breaths, and then poke our heads out to see how things are.”
Conversation was light for the most part. I hunkered down beside Willy. Hanley sat on my right. The others were whispering about how scared they had been and how they never seen anything like that back home. I bet they didn’t. I wouldn’t wish a damn twister on my worst enemy. My thoughts went to my horses. I hoped they had done what their instincts had told them to do and race away from the storm.
“You were pretty ballsy to come out in that to find me,” I said to Hanley as I petted Willy. The goat seemed happy enough and just stood there after burping up a cud to chew.
“I thought you might need help. I’ve been through some damn nasty storms in my time.”
“Tell us about them,” Bella called from the cot.
Hanley crossed his long legs as thunder boomed overhead. Loud yes, but slightly further away, thank God.
“Well, about five years ago, I was down in the bayou of Louisiana doing a photo essay for a magazine about the Louisiana black bears and their shrinking habitat when a hurricane blew in…”
I sat back a bit, resting my spine on the edge of the cot, holding my arm to my middle, as Hanley began his tale. If he had lived in medieval times, he would have made a fine bard. He could spin a yarn with the best of them. The steady throb in my forearm was unpleasant and a little worrisome, but there was little to do for it now. If it was fractured, all they would do for it was tell me to rest, ice, compress, and elevate. I’d been through that routine a few times, most from having cows or horses step on a foot.
When he concluded his tale of wind, rain, and flooded swamps, the rain outside had lessened into a pleasant little shower tempo. I pushed to my feet, using my left arm, and made the announcement.
“Okay, let’s see what we have to deal with,” I said, nodding at Linc to open the doors. He did and exited first, with Dodgeon his heels. Bella and Granny went next, and Hanley and I followed behind them in case Granny tumbled backward on the old stone stairs. They needed to be made into new ones. Another job for the never-ending list.
Prissy stood at the cellar doors, throwing her head up and down, soaking wet but hale and hearty. A few other horses were milling about. The yard, from what we could see with only the light from our phones, was littered with limbs. I turned to gaze at the house. Using the flashlight, I could see that a few shutters were hanging loose and some shingles littered the ground, but the oak tree was a goner. It lay on its side, thankfully falling away from the house, the root ball as big as a pachyderm and showing thick, rich dirt and rocks that the roots had been clinging to. The hole it left in the yard could be filled in with cement and made into a swimming pool. I sighed at the thought of all that extra work. Still, it could have been much worse. Prissy came over to me, poked me with her wet nose, and got some praise and a pat or ten.
The air was cool, moist, and calm. Raindrops sprinkled down on us as we all encircled the goats and led them back to their barn. A barn that stood untouched as did the horse barn. Scanning the roofs with my flashlight, I saw a few strips of steel roofing that looked to be loose, but overall things had fared well. I moved the beam of light to the springhouse. That, too, seemed to be fine. Bella sighed in relief.
“Well, no point standing out here in the rain gawking. Whoever wants to lend a hand, let’s get them goats and horses inside. We’ll start looking for any horses that haven’t come back tomorrow morning,” I said and got some nods from the others. We’d probably be in the dark for the rest of the night, perhaps even days, depending on how many lines the twister had snapped. We had kerosene lamps in the house. We’d manage.This wasn’t the first time Mother Nature had dropped by for a rowdy visit. Wouldn’t be the last either.
“You good?” Dodge asked, jerking his head at my arm nestled into my side.
“Yep.” I ambled off over the muddy ground behind a pregnant goat that seemed to think being free meant she could nibble Granny’s rhododendron bush.
I’d be fine. Sometimes a man had no other option.
10
Chapter Ten
Sleep was hard to come by.
I was once again back on the sofa after generously giving my bed to Hanley since there was no way he was going back to sleep in a tent with a warm front filled with line after line of storms blowing through. Fortunately, no other twisters dropped in our vicinity but the radio, once it came back on, was busy as was the police scanner. Ollie was probably running around like a chicken, minus its head. I should check in to see if he needed any help, but I had a ton of shit to do around here today, so maybe I could help out any neighbors who needed it tomorrow.
Come dawn I was up, dressed in yesterday’s clothes, and nursing not only a cup of coffee but a miserably painful arm. OTC meds had not done much to dull the pain, which pretty much assured me there was a hairline fracture. Something that I didnotneed right now as we had cattle coming tomorrow, which meant that fencing needed to be done today. That was on top ofthe damage control that we’d need to do as well as the search for any missing horses. It was shaping up to be one damn long day.
Granny slipped into the kitchen, bleary-eyed, her wild-colored hair on end. She’d been up late as well. We all had. Falling asleep after nearly being sucked into Oz was damn tough.
“You should get that arm looked at,” she said as she made her way to the coffeepot, her slippers flapping softly in the early morning quiet. I frowned at her insight before trying to let my arm fall only to bring it back up in a hurry.
“No point. They won’t do nothing for it.”
“Oh bullshit they won’t,” she snapped before turning her full attention to me. “They’ll at least splint or cast it. Maybe give you some meds for the pain.”
