Bernadette Benda

Way back in ye olden days when I still ran around in cloaks and wooden swords (why on earth did I stop?) I used to blog about life. About exciting incidents or funny moments.

Well, one’s coming to ya’ll.

My mother and I went up to visit her sister (thus my aunt. That’s how that works you know). (This was the same trip where I then drove a few cities over to visit my editor).

It was the night before we we’re going to leave. All was well in the house. We were eating take out, consisting of burgers and sweet potatoes fries and an unfortunately small amount of Brussels sprouts, of which my uncle I think had a grand total of one (ok, so maybe it was two but you get the point).

Dogs were begging at the table and dinner was winding to a close, and then we all looked up.

A storm was coming. *cue the Return of the King music*

So of course we go outside and take a look at the swelling dark storm clouds as they approach, crackling with lightning and distant thunder, because this is what you do.

Barn doors are shut. Dogs are ushered inside, and soon the storm hits.

My mom wonders if the power will go out.

“It won’t happen. We’ve only had one power outage in the seven years we’ve lived here!” my uncle proudly exclaims.

Mom and I exchanged  glances. This is when you KNOW something is going to happen.

I get in the shower, because…well you know we need to keep ourselves clean and such. I finish, and the lights stark flickering. And they don’t STOP FLICKERING. LIKE THEY KEEP DOING IT LIKE I’M IN BAD SCI-FI MOVIE.

Apparently this is called a brown out. I’ve never heard of one because where I am from the power is either on, or it’s OFF.

Anyway, I brush my hair and yada yada as the lights flicker and flicker around me, warning me that the monster that escaped from the laboratory is coming.

When I come out, all the lights are off. Outside the rain is pelting down hard and fast, the wind blowing it so it hits like waves against the windows. Soon all the power goes off.

Eventually the storm passes, and some pale sunlight is seen. Of course, the power is still off, and there is another impending problem. The house is on a well. That means:

No power, no water. NO RUNNING TOILETS. Of course there are a few flushes left and the power company should have things up and running soon.

So what do we do? My aunt wants to go to Dairy Queen. So her, my mom and I walk out to the car.

The storm clouds can still be seen as they continue to wrack other homesteads, but behind them, above the setting sun are – cobblestones clouds. The like of which you have never seen.

Mom, “should we worry about those?”

My aunt, “nah, we get like one tornado a year.”

So we jump in the car and head down the driveway (it’s really long and heads through some woods). Of course there’s a tree that’s tipped over. But we can drive around that. But then we came to crossing of the creek bed.

Big thick branches have fallen across it. My aunt stops the car.

We stare at the branches as the rain from the trees above us slowly hits the car.

“Think we can move it?” my aunt says.

“Yeah.” I shrug. I mean the branches weren’t that big. We keep staring.

“We don’t have boots. Or gloves.” My mom points out.

My aunt begins to back out. But of course we have the tipped over tree, and backing up around it is proving a little more difficult.

“I need to take off my seat belt for this,” my aunt says. We’re totally in an apocalyptic movie now.

We get back up the driveway and pull up in front of the house and my uncle walks out. What happens? Well my aunt tells him to get his boots and gloves and get in the truck. He does.

We’re getting Dairy Queen, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

We drive back down to the creek bed, following my uncle in the truck. We wait there as my uncle clears the debris. It’s quiet, with the sound of frogs croaking and soft rain pattering on the car, the cobblestones looming behind us, and the dark woods in front, illuminated by the headlights.

“This is the part where the dinosaurs or zombies come out,” I say.

Eventually he clears the branches and we are on our way to get ourselves some ice cream. Dairy Queen is strangely packed despite the storms and the blackouts and the looming threat of a zombie invasion.

We get ice cream. On the way back we spot this huge cloud in the sky. It looked like this was happening inside:

So now we got dragons.

The power was still out when we got back, so we ate our ice cream by candlelight. We joked about telling stories and there was something about a man with one hand who ate rubber bands.

During this point, the neighbors decided that this was a great time to take a gun out for some target practice. During a black out. As it’s still raining and there are cobblestones.

Then the microwave stared making weird noises. This weird buzzing clicking noise. It was probably trying to get enough power to turn on, but I still guess it was the aliens testing their ability to take over our machines.

Since it was dark, hot, and I had my ice cream, I decided it would be time for bed. Power  was supposed to be back on my 11 pm, so by morning everything would be fine and we would have a bathroom again.

As I dozed off, I heard my mom and uncle talking.

“OH NO.” it’s my Uncle.

“WHAT IS IT?” my aunt calls from her bed.

“I didn’t read the next line. The power isn’t coming back on until 11 pm tomorrow night.”

Doom. Doom. Drums in the deep.

“I’m going to bed.” my mom says.

NOBODY slept that night. Between the heat, dogs barking, frogs croaking like it was the Plagues, and everyone snoring, it was a dreadful night and I jumped out at 7 am because I had had ENOUGH.

Of course there was still no power. We were able to fill jugs of water from the tubs of water for the horses that were out in the pasture. But it was a jug for one flush, so, rationing.

But we were going to leave that day, anyway, right? YEP. I’ve never seen my mom get out of a house faster than that day.

My uncle also was a hero not only for clearing branches, but for going out and getting coffee and donuts.

THE END