TATER

She glanced with disappointment at the reflection staring back at her in her kitchen window.  The heat and humidity of  the afternoon had seriously deflated the orange can curls she had struggled to create, and sleep on the night before.  She frowned a bit and sighed.  Nothing she seemed to do to add body to her fine hair, ever amounted to the glamour of the Jackie O’s of this world.  She could own the worlds finest collection of rat combs and cases of Aqua Net, and still have limp hair when she craved body.  It hadn’t helped that her two lovely girls had decided to wait until the last minute to inform her that they needed to  bake two cakes to bring to the Girl Scout cake walk fundraiser the following day.  The hottest day of the early summer, and they were baking cakes.  Even two cans of Aqua Net couldn’t have survived the heat in her kitchen.

She brushed back her limp bangs with the back of her hand, as not to add insult to injury and get cake batter in her tresses.

Girls?  You need to help straighten the kitchen before we get ready to ice those, those layers need to cool off a bit more anyway.

Okay mama. 

Her eldest said.  The two girls tied their aprons back on and started wiping down the kitchen counters, and helping their mother with the dishes.

If you all had not waited until the last moment to tell me about these cakes, you could of been out playing with your friends instead of cleaning this hot kitchen.

Yes ma’am. they replied in unison.  They knew their mother was a bit put out, and it was best to humor her.  It was their fault that they couldn’t be out with the other kids playing Kick the Can, but it still felt like a punishment nonetheless.

Your brothers are out there haven a good ‘ole time, and here we are like three old wet hens scratching in the flour.  What kind of icing do you all want for these layers?

Chocolate!  Her youngest daughter said.  It was her stock answer.  She may have been the most creative of her children, but the creativity seemed to be stuck in C when it came to anything sweet.

I want a lemon creme frosting for my cake.  Last sale we had, my cake sold first.  They all love our lemon creme, mama.

She smiled at her daughter, but was laughing to herself.  This one knew which way the wind blew, and would always know the right things to say at the right time.

Chocolate and lemon creme it is then.  Honey reach in the drawer there and get me the  attachment for the hand mixer.

The light that was flooding into the kitchen dimmed suddenly, and all three heads turned in unison to look out the kitchen window.  The lawn was in shadow.  They looked up and stared as the black clouds blotted out the last of the blue sky.

Honey, switch on the transistor radio for me, okay?  She looked out the window and craned her head to look down the street.  No sign of her boys.  She let out a worried sigh, and crossed the kitchen to tune in the news channel.

Honey?

Yes mama?

Go out and ring the dinner bell for your brothers.  Ring it good and loud.

Those boys don’t have the sense God gave a goose sometimes.  She thought silently.  She crossed the kitchen and picked up the telephone to dial her friend Mary.

Are my boys over your way?

I don’t see them, the kids were over by the school.  I’m sure they’re on their way home though.  Lord it’s looking terrible outside.  I’m going to head out and see if Lori is on her way home, and will look for your boys, okay, hon?

Thank you, I would appreciate it.

She turned her full attention to the radio, as she heard the words “Thunderstorm warning...Hail...Tornado watch”

She felt like the floor had dropped out beneath her, as she struggled to stay calm in front of her daughters.  She left the kitchen and went out the front door.  Before she could get to the sidewalk, she felt the hailstones begin to bounce down around her.  She ran back to the cover of the front stoop and screamed for her boys.

The fury of the hailstones drowned out her voice.  She felt her daughter grab her arm.

MOMMA!  THE MAN ON THE RADIO SAID TO SEEK COVER IMMEDIATELY!

Her daughter pulled on her, trying to drag her inside.

She pulled back her arm in indecision.  She wanted to run out for her boys, but couldn’t leave her daughters alone.  SHIT!  She cried.  SHIT SHIT SHIT!

The hail slowed, and the sky had taken on a green hue.

Grab your sister!  I want both of you to get in the hall closet with the radio, like we did for the other storms, and I want you to STAY PUT! 

DO YOU HEAR ME?

But what about you?

I’ll be in in a minute, I have to try and find your brothers!

Maybe they’re at Mary’s by now.

Before she could reply, she heard the eerie scream of the air raid siren from the roof of the school.  She looked towards the horizon and almost choked, as the funnel cloud began to form.  She grabbed her daughter and ran into the house, slamming the door.

Get in the closet NOW!  I’m calling Mary, and will be right behind you!

Her hand fumbled as she grabbed at the hand set, sending it thudding to the floor.

DAMN SAM! 

Her fingers hit the rotary telephone and frantically spun the dial.  With her free hand she jerked up the handset by the chord and waited for Mary to answer.

She waited, and waited.  6 rings.  She could hear the fury of the twister, as if it were already engulfing them.  She slammed down the handset and ran to the closet and joined her babies.  She sank to her knees, as the tears came, and said the lord’s prayer.

She hugged her daughters to her in the darkness and begged her God for his protection.  She told herself over and over that her boys were safe inside a neighbor’s home, that someone with sense had grabbed them up and taken them to safety.  She repeated it in her head as a mantra, as the storm howled and buffeted her home.  She kissed her daughters and held them to her, telling them that everything was going to be alright.

All three of them sharing the notion that her words amounted to nothing but a hollow wish.

TBC