| General Fiction posted January 25, 2013 | Chapters: |
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Storm story,
A chapter in the book Short
That There Storm
by Bill Schott
The Storm Contest Winner
Gramps was the bestest person to be with durin' a storm. He weren't never ascared a nothin'. I recollect his bein' here in the house one summer when we got hit with a storm that beat all.
I was a tiny kid, but Gramps told me I had plenty a bounce. Always figured that were better'n not. He always had me tend to the rabbits in the pen outside the south door. I was changin' out their straw when a flock a blackbirds come asailin' past me like one huge body held together with yarn and caught in a big wind. I fell right back on the pellets I had just cleaned outta that rabbit cage. Gramp's eyes twinkled and he broke into a knee-slappin' fit at the sight a me.
Back inside he told me that birds act like that when a storm's brewin'. He said there weren't nothin' to do about it but to light some candles and gin up some lemonade. I found the tapers Ma made last year, and Gramps pulled a dozen a them yeller fruits outta a crock he usually stored in the root cellar. Said they was from Florida and his pal what lived there had brung 'em up last week. He said he was hopin' there'd be a good reason to squeeze 'em up soon. He cut 'em in half and I ground 'em on the juicer doodad that I thunk was an ash tray, since Ma used it fer that sometimes.
Once they was all wrung out and Gramps had sugared the juice and added some water, we sat at the table with two tumblers a lemonade. Gramps had some plastic straws he'd kept from a soda he'd drunk at a carnival a while back. He blew into his glass and made bubbles. I did too and they beaded and finally raised up to the brim a the glass.
It weren't all that long 'til the clouds got dark and the wind picked up somethin' fierce. We'd battened the shutters but left the win-ders up a crack. Gramps said that if the wind cain't go through a house, it'll just push it outta its way.
We brung the rabbits, the nanny goat, and a couple a hens inside. Gramps said the rest'll take care a themselves. These ones we might need for breakfast and supper if'n the storm is a Nor'easter.
Gramps rung up the operator to check on Ma. She was at a friend's house across the valley and weren't s'posed to be back 'til tomorrow. All was well I was told and she'd be stayin' put 'til the weather cleared.
Well that wind did pick up and we could hear everythin' that weren't nailed down flyin' by and kissin' the house good-bye as they was blasted outta our yard and yonder.
This weren't quite a twister like what we heard about last fall. That's a relief, since that one I heard blew Emma and Ben Gale's house over the rainbow. That were a stretcher no doubt, though I hear that their niece gets treated for nerves now.
No matter. Our storm came and went and Gramps reckoned that there weren't no more damage than after a hoedown with a bad jug a shine in play. We set all the animals back out 'ceptin' one hen what Gramps said died in its sleep. He cleaned her up fer supper. Good old Gramps.
Gramps was the bestest person to be with durin' a storm. He weren't never ascared a nothin'. I recollect his bein' here in the house one summer when we got hit with a storm that beat all.
I was a tiny kid, but Gramps told me I had plenty a bounce. Always figured that were better'n not. He always had me tend to the rabbits in the pen outside the south door. I was changin' out their straw when a flock a blackbirds come asailin' past me like one huge body held together with yarn and caught in a big wind. I fell right back on the pellets I had just cleaned outta that rabbit cage. Gramp's eyes twinkled and he broke into a knee-slappin' fit at the sight a me.
Back inside he told me that birds act like that when a storm's brewin'. He said there weren't nothin' to do about it but to light some candles and gin up some lemonade. I found the tapers Ma made last year, and Gramps pulled a dozen a them yeller fruits outta a crock he usually stored in the root cellar. Said they was from Florida and his pal what lived there had brung 'em up last week. He said he was hopin' there'd be a good reason to squeeze 'em up soon. He cut 'em in half and I ground 'em on the juicer doodad that I thunk was an ash tray, since Ma used it fer that sometimes.
Once they was all wrung out and Gramps had sugared the juice and added some water, we sat at the table with two tumblers a lemonade. Gramps had some plastic straws he'd kept from a soda he'd drunk at a carnival a while back. He blew into his glass and made bubbles. I did too and they beaded and finally raised up to the brim a the glass.
It weren't all that long 'til the clouds got dark and the wind picked up somethin' fierce. We'd battened the shutters but left the win-ders up a crack. Gramps said that if the wind cain't go through a house, it'll just push it outta its way.
We brung the rabbits, the nanny goat, and a couple a hens inside. Gramps said the rest'll take care a themselves. These ones we might need for breakfast and supper if'n the storm is a Nor'easter.
Gramps rung up the operator to check on Ma. She was at a friend's house across the valley and weren't s'posed to be back 'til tomorrow. All was well I was told and she'd be stayin' put 'til the weather cleared.
Well that wind did pick up and we could hear everythin' that weren't nailed down flyin' by and kissin' the house good-bye as they was blasted outta our yard and yonder.
This weren't quite a twister like what we heard about last fall. That's a relief, since that one I heard blew Emma and Ben Gale's house over the rainbow. That were a stretcher no doubt, though I hear that their niece gets treated for nerves now.
No matter. Our storm came and went and Gramps reckoned that there weren't no more damage than after a hoedown with a bad jug a shine in play. We set all the animals back out 'ceptin' one hen what Gramps said died in its sleep. He cleaned her up fer supper. Good old Gramps.
I was a tiny kid, but Gramps told me I had plenty a bounce. Always figured that were better'n not. He always had me tend to the rabbits in the pen outside the south door. I was changin' out their straw when a flock a blackbirds come asailin' past me like one huge body held together with yarn and caught in a big wind. I fell right back on the pellets I had just cleaned outta that rabbit cage. Gramp's eyes twinkled and he broke into a knee-slappin' fit at the sight a me.
Back inside he told me that birds act like that when a storm's brewin'. He said there weren't nothin' to do about it but to light some candles and gin up some lemonade. I found the tapers Ma made last year, and Gramps pulled a dozen a them yeller fruits outta a crock he usually stored in the root cellar. Said they was from Florida and his pal what lived there had brung 'em up last week. He said he was hopin' there'd be a good reason to squeeze 'em up soon. He cut 'em in half and I ground 'em on the juicer doodad that I thunk was an ash tray, since Ma used it fer that sometimes.
Once they was all wrung out and Gramps had sugared the juice and added some water, we sat at the table with two tumblers a lemonade. Gramps had some plastic straws he'd kept from a soda he'd drunk at a carnival a while back. He blew into his glass and made bubbles. I did too and they beaded and finally raised up to the brim a the glass.
It weren't all that long 'til the clouds got dark and the wind picked up somethin' fierce. We'd battened the shutters but left the win-ders up a crack. Gramps said that if the wind cain't go through a house, it'll just push it outta its way.
We brung the rabbits, the nanny goat, and a couple a hens inside. Gramps said the rest'll take care a themselves. These ones we might need for breakfast and supper if'n the storm is a Nor'easter.
Gramps rung up the operator to check on Ma. She was at a friend's house across the valley and weren't s'posed to be back 'til tomorrow. All was well I was told and she'd be stayin' put 'til the weather cleared.
Well that wind did pick up and we could hear everythin' that weren't nailed down flyin' by and kissin' the house good-bye as they was blasted outta our yard and yonder.
This weren't quite a twister like what we heard about last fall. That's a relief, since that one I heard blew Emma and Ben Gale's house over the rainbow. That were a stretcher no doubt, though I hear that their niece gets treated for nerves now.
No matter. Our storm came and went and Gramps reckoned that there weren't no more damage than after a hoedown with a bad jug a shine in play. We set all the animals back out 'ceptin' one hen what Gramps said died in its sleep. He cleaned her up fer supper. Good old Gramps.
The Storm Contest Winner |
 Recognized |
Written in the vernacular. Has 500+ words and includes the words tiny, rabbit, bounce, twinkled, south, blackbirds, pellets, candles, lemonade, bubbles, beaded, and clouds.
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