“Looks like it might be a big one,” Ed observed.
“Why thank you Ed, nice of you to say so,” Jimmy said with a slight smile on his lips. It took Ed a second.
“You pervert. I was talking about the rainstorm.”
“Oh. That might be a big one too.”
Erma just chuckled.
The banter continued as Jimmy ate his food. Finished at last, he leaned back rubbed his stomach and smiled.
“That was satisfying food.”
“Don’t you have some place you have to be?” Ed asked.
“Actually, I guess I had better get my butt home. If it really lets loose, it may very well wash away my road,” Jimmy said, laying three dollars on the counter.
“Hon, it’s not that much,” Erma said.
“It is to him,” Ed said, scooping the three dollar bills off the counter.
“Gotta run. Good grub Erma. I may have to come back for you later if this old grouch doesn’t shape up,” Jimmy said, opening the door.
“I could deliver,” Ed said, trying to duck as Erma took another swing at his head.
The wind had really picked up and large splatters of rain dotted his pickup’s windshield as he headed down highway 101. By the time he got to his turnoff it was starting to come down in torrents. He pulled up as close to the house as he could and then made a dash for the door. He looked back from the kitchen and saw that he had tracked mud across the living room floor. He would have to clean it up before Amy Lou came home. He took off his wet shirt and threw it across one of the dining room chairs. A beer would taste good right about now, if he actually liked beer. He settled for a Coca Cola.
Mac Brazel sat in the kitchen watching as the rain hammered at the window. The rain was blowing sideways at times and he knew the little creek that ran through the property would be overflowing. As he was watching, a huge flash of lightning made him squint and he turned his head away. He thought it was strange because no thunder followed.
One thing for sure, when this did let up, he was going to have to go check on the cattle. Anytime the weather got like this he knew he would have to spend several days rounding up strays. Maybe he could get Floyd and Loretta, his nearest neighbors, to help him when this passed. Then he would help them round up their strays.
The violent storm lasted well into the night on July 6th. He was beginning to wonder if he should just saddle up and try to start out now, but a fresh gust of wind convinced him that waiting was a better idea. His lights flickered twice and then went out. Damn, he thought, now the power is out.
He picked up the phone and got no dial tone. Son of a gun, he might as well go to bed, he thought. He found an oil lamp, lit it, and went up to the bedroom. He emptied the bucket he had placed under a roof leak, undressed and climbed into bed.
The rain seemed to be less intense now; maybe he could get an early start tomorrow he thought, as he rolled over and pulled the sheet over him. Within minutes, he was snoring softly, dead to the world.
When Mac woke early the next morning, the rain was gone and the sun was bright. There was not a cloud in the sky. He dressed, went to the kitchen and made coffee. While it was brewing, he went out to the barn and saddled his horse. The coffee was ready by the time he had finished. He drank two quick cups and ate a piece of dry toast. The phone was still out so he decided to head out and see how his cattle had fared. He mounted up and headed towards the creek that would certainly be swollen by now. He knew some of the cattle would be trapped on the other side. It always happened when the creek rose.
He was about a mile from the house when he noticed a trench that look like it was freshly dug. It went on for a hundred yards or so and then stopped only to start again a few yards further on. He got off his horse and scratched his head.
What the hell could have done this? He followed the trail and started to notice pieces of metal. The trench went for several hundred yards and more and more metal pieces and parts were lying all over the field.
His first thought was that an aircraft must have crashed in the storm last night. He climbed back on his horse and followed the trench. In the next few minutes his life changed forever as did the small community he lived in.
Mac rushed into the house and picked up the phone, he was relieved to hear a dial tone again.
“Sheriff Wilcox’s office,” the voice said.
“Is the Sheriff in? This is Mac Brazel.”
“Hi Mac. No he isn’t in. He has been out helping clean up some of the mess from the storm,” she replied.
“Any idea when he may be back?”
“Well, not really. I could call him on the radio if it’s important,” she offered.
“Hummm. Well I do think it is important. I think a military or some type of aircraft crashed on the property during the storm,” he said.
“Oh dear. Did you find anyone hurt?”
“Uh, well sort of. I think the Sheriff needs to come have a look for himself,” Mac said.
