Howling Winds

HOWLING WINDS

Clarence Molloy

Gladys had fallen asleep in her rocking chair in the living room. The TV was on, set to the local news channel. She was tracking the large hurricane that was barreling towards her island in the middle of the Caribbean, St. Thomas. She was jolted out of her sleep by the sound of the wind lifting the roof off her house. She jumped to her feet and realized there was no electricity. She panicked. The place was pitch black. The wind whipped through her home, knocking over bookcases and tearing picture frames, mirrors, and clocks off the walls.

She never felt so scared in all her life. She said a prayer as she stuck her arms out straight in front of her and walked towards where she thought the front door would be. “Lord, help me. Help me get over to Maude’s house safely, please.” She shivered and began to cry. Was this the end? Was this monster of a hurricane going to be the death of her?

Gladys prayed once more. “Father, God, have mercy on me. Please give me the strength to make it safely through this storm. Help me to make it over to Maude’s.”

She heard a loud crash behind her and screamed. She turned to look but could see nothing in the dark house. Just then, a bright flash of lightning lit up the sky and her home. She was able to see the top half of her 20-foot mango tree lying in her kitchen behind her.

The loudest thunder clap Gladys had ever heard shook the door she leaned against in the downpour. She screamed and pulled the door open with all her might and ran. She immediately slipped and fell into a puddle.

She realized that she would have to slow down and crawl by faith to safety. She knew every inch of her front yard by memory, and the familiar street she had lived on for the past 45 years, she knew like the back of her hand. Maude was her next-door neighbor. They knew each other for roughly 45 years. They both moved into the brand new neighborhood around the same time and became close friends over the years. Gladys knew she would not be able to climb over the chain link fence that separated her yard from Maude’s at her age of 78. She would have to crawl up the twelve steps that led up to the street, open the small gate, turn left, and go a few more yards until she made it to Maude’s front gate, then open it and make her way down several steps to Maude’s front door.

Galdys attempted to stand one more time and was immediately body-slammed back down into the puddle by a strong gust of wind. She sobbed and cried out as loud as she could, “Somebody help me!”

She heard loud bangs and things crashing in the night. She wondered if those were the sounds of her neighbor’s roofs being blown off or cars being flipped over. Then something large slammed to the ground a few feet from her right hand, and then it landed on her back. She screamed and rapidly crawled out from under it. It felt like a large wooden board, maybe part of someone’s roof or even her own. Not wanting to be a sitting duck any longer, she crawled up the steps in front of her even though she couldn’t see exactly where she was going. She instantly regretted not taking the offer her grandson extended to her last week. He had offered to pay her airfare to Miami so she could avoid the storm altogether, and if the island got a direct hit, they both could fly down together a week later and assess the damage. But no, she thought that because she made it through Hurricane Bertha when she was in her 40s without any hurt or harm to her and her home, now she was an expert on hurricanes.

The howling winds were so strong, the rain came down sideways, stinging her slim, frail body. The wind sounded like a freight train coming towards her. Gladys began trembling in fear.

She pushed her way through the gate and shouted, “Jesus, help me!” She crawled onto the street, heading towards Maude’s house to the left. A flash of lightning briefly lit her path. She was heading in the right direction. She recognized Maude’s old, white Toyota 4Runner parked a few yards ahead of her in front of the gate. She paused to catch her breath. Crawling up all those hard, concrete steps practically knocked the wind out of her. The thunder roared like an angry, giant beast behind her, reminding her to keep moving. She was tired, soaking wet, and thirsty. She gasped for air as she made her way closer to the gate. She prayed that she wasn’t developing pneumonia or anything of the sort. Her knees hurt terribly. This weather was definitely not good for people who suffered from arthritis, like she did. Her jeans didn’t help prevent the wet street from cutting her knees. Suddenly, a sharp pain went through the right palm of her hand. She stopped in her tracks and screamed in agony. It was glass. Pieces of glass were in her path to Maude’s gate. She guessed that the shards came from Maude’s car. Something must have sailed through the air and crashed into her windshield or rear glass, or one of the side windows. Or, maybe, the air pressure built up tremendously inside the car due to the storm, and it caused all the windows to explode or something.

Gladys attempted to pull the splinter out of her hand. It was in way too deep and was too painful to even touch. She knew she was bleeding a lot. She felt the warm blood running down her wrist. Maude was a retired nurse. She would know what to do once she got to her house.

She felt around in the dark and realized she was right next to the rear wheel of Maude’s SUV. If she kept on crawling straight ahead, she would be a bloody mess before making it to Maude’s front door. She was between Maude’s car and the chain link fence, which meant she was very close to the gate.

Gladys was afraid to move, but she had to get to safety as soon as possible. The rain was not letting up. The wind was not easing up either. Gladys began sobbing uncontrollably as she sat in a puddle and rested her back against Maude’s SUV. Light lit up the sky for a moment again. This time it came with a spark and a crack. Lightning had hit Maude’s mango tree in her front yard. The cracking sound grew louder and closer to Gladys. She smelled smoke and heard a large part of the tree tearing away from the main tree, and it was slowly falling towards her. Without hesitation, Gladys crawled under Maude’s SUV just in time before there was a huge crash that came down where she sat a few seconds ago.

The unusually loud crack of thunder caused Gladys to open her eyes and twist her head towards Maude’s house. Her heart skipped a beat. She saw a flickering light between the leaves of the fallen mango tree limb. She scampered from under the car, into the street, and limped around the car in tremendous pain. To her amazement, there was a light shining from Maude’s living room window, as if someone wanted to get a closer look at where that crashing sound in the street came from.

Gladys began shouting, “Maude, Maude, Maude…” She then broke off a branch from the large tree limb and used it to bang on the top of the front gate. The light from the living room was now shining on her. Another light appeared from the front door and rapidly approached her. Then she heard a familiar voice, “Ms. Gladys? What in the world are you doing out here?”

It was Maude’s oldest son, Tristan. He lifted the frail, old lady with one arm and held a flashlight in the other, and walked carefully down the slippery steps. Just before they made it into the house, something whizzed above their heads and crashed into the front bedroom window with a loud bang. Gladys screamed and held onto the muscular young man’s neck even tighter.

As soon as they got into the house, Maude’s youngest son, Dwight, closed the door behind them. Gladys’ good friend was there, welcoming her with open arms. Gladys was never so happy to see Maude. She extended her arms to hug Maude, but instead collapsed to the floor as soon as Tristan put her down.

Gladys opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. The sun’s rays filled the room. Her mind raced for a while. Was it all a bad dream? Unfortunately, not. She remembered every moment of that dreadful night. She placed her hand on her head. She had a splitting headache. Her entire body was sore as if she had fallen down a flight of stairs. Her knees throbbed with pain with every beat of her heart. She turned her head towards the window when she heard the sounds of children laughing and running in the street. Maude was there, looking out the window.

“Good morning, my dear friend. I think you and your sons saved my life last night,” Gladys said.

“Good afternoon,” Maude corrected. “It’s 1:27 PM. You scared us quite a bit last night when you literally dropped in on us. You looked like pure death, sorry to say. And, when you collapsed like that with blood dripping from all those wounds on your knees and hand…” Maude shook her head slowly. “That hurricane was nothing like what we experienced 40 years ago. That creature that came through here last night destroyed everything in sight… I have to warn you, though… Your house was devastated. It is a total loss, sorry to say. I don’t know how you were able to make it over here in the midst of all that rain, thunder, lightning, high winds, and crashing trees, plus people's roofs flying through the air like that…”

A tear rolled down the side of Gladys’ face and almost into her ear. How she loved her little, yellow house. But she was grateful to be alive. She had no idea how she made it through last night. Maybe it was sheer adrenaline. More than likely, it was by the grace of God.

“Do we have cell phone service? I need to check-in with my daughters and my grandson,” Gladys inquired.

“No, we don’t. We don’t have nothing but some bread and cheese that we have to eat before they get moldy. We do have a few cans of tuna and those avocados in your backyard that that monster blew off the tree for us to eat. Oh, yeah, we also have a big pot of lemon grass tea I made this morning. Let me get you a cup of lemon grass tea,” said Maude as she was about to leave the room.

“I would have really liked to have some of your homemade guavaberry rum to help me forget the last 15 or so hours of my life, but I have such a terrible headache. Just bring me some of the bread and cheese you have there and two Tylenol, please,” requested Gladys. “If I don’t get some kind of relief from this headache, I will soon be howling like that monster from hell we met last night.”