Tag Nebraska

The child was dancing through the dimly lighted dining room, up on her naked toes, twisting and spinning, her long brown pig tails flying. She spread her skinny arms, and in her mind the scruffy blue shorts were a ball gown held out stiffly by petticoats. The long sweeping skirt hiding skinned knees and mosquito bitten legs. As she moved, her thin voice rose and fell with a sing-song story of princesses, princes and journeys over the sea.

A sudden sound abruptly stopped the dance and the child stood, hands clasped dramatically in front of her. She cocked her head, eyes bright, listening as the lightening ran down the lightening rod which was attached to the big old farm house. She laughed and ran to the picture window in the living room.

“Tommy, Tommy, come and see!” She called out, glancing toward her older brother, before turning back to the window to watch the trees flailing under charcoal skies.

Tommy, with only a little reluctance, put down the book about dinosaurs and went to stand beside his little sister. He was an indulgent brother, who adored his sister, and if he took her hero-worship as his simple due, he also knew her to be his best friend.

“You shouldn’t stand by the window during a lightning storm,” Barbara said, in her older sister voice-of-command. She was frowning at them from where she sat reading. She didn’t expect them to listen to her, but she wanted to make sure the little boys didn’t stop playing with their cars to join their foolish siblings.

Tommy glanced at Barbara, and shrugged a little. He knew Diane would stand and watch as long as she could. She was always like this during a storm. Her eyes would shine and she would smile or laugh as the thunder broke or lightning ripped the sky open. It seemed to Tommy that Diane absorbed some of the energy from the storm, and because he was smart, and knew about things, he thought it had to do with positive ions.

In another time and another place, a man spoke with his sister. She was nervous, excited, he could see it in the brightness of her eyes and the almost giddy laughter. He knew at least part of her nervousness had to do with his presence. This was the first, and unknown to them then, the only time, he had would share this part of her life. He smiled at her. He was proud of this sister, sometimes he was a little in awe of her. She was nuts, but nuts in a way he loved.

“Stick with Peg,” she was saying, and as she spoke, she reached out and rested her hand on his arm. “Peg will get you back down and I will see you in a little while.” She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, flashed him one more bright smile and turned away.

Back in Nebraska, Tommy and Diane were giggling and pointing out the funny ways the trees danced in the wind. Their father, coffee cup in one hand, came to stand at the window with them. Diane, whose head barely reached his waist, leaned up against him. He placed a hand lightly on her head.

“Hey there little peanut,” he said.

“Are we going to go down in the basement, Daddy?”

“Maybe.” Turning a bit to address everyone in the room, he went on, “You kids better get ready just in case.” Then he turned back to the window.

“If we go down in the basement, Daddy, can I stand and watch the storm with you?”

She asked this question every time, and every time he said, “Not tonight, maybe when you get older.”

She accepted his answer, because arguing with Daddy just wasn’t done, but she always wanted so very badly, to stand with him at the top of the basement steps, just her head and shoulders outside the door. He always watched the progress of the storm, but she just wanted to let the wildness of it fill her.

“Go on now,” Dad said, “get your stuff ready just in case.”

“Come on kids,” Mom said, getting off the couch, “let’s find a game to take down with us.”

As much as Diane loved the fierce Nebraska storms, going upstairs to her bedroom was always scary. The house was old, and it shook with the wind. Downstairs, she didn’t feel the shaking, but up in her room she remembered that storms were dangerous. She gathered stuffed animals and a baby doll, quickly securing them in her bandana in a “hobo bundle”.

Frightening as being upstairs was, she couldn’t go back down without stopping for moment to look out the window.

When the lightning struck this time, the entire sky and room lighted up like a brief moment of borrowed daytime. Her breath sucked in and she ran out of the room and down the stairs, the booming of the thunder following as she went.

And once again, in that other time and that other place, the man watched his sister as she moved away and went through, what he would have called a ritual. He didn’t know if she would use that word, but her movements were precise, rehearsed and seemed to him to have overtones of ceremony. He smiled to himself, but it was an uneasy smile. He believed in her, or so he told himself, but it was so much easier to believe in her from a distance, when all he had to believe in were stories. This reality, watching her now as she prepared, was scary to him. He took a deep breath, stepped back, out of her line of sight and crossed himself as she began to run.

Once more in Nebraska, Diane reached the bottom of the stairs, bundle clutched tightly in her hand, just as Daddy scooped up Jimmy. Barbara had Billy in her arms and they were heading out the dining room door. Tommy was waiting for Diane and Mommy was just coming back from the kitchen.

“Shoes, Diane.” Mom said, taking the hobo bundle out of her hands. “Go get your shoes on and hurry up. Tommy, you go ahead and get down to the basement. Here, please take your sister’s stuff.”

Diane paused for a moment, trying to remember where the shoes might be. Shoes seemed to Diane to have a life of their own. They were seldom on her feet and always lost when she needed them.

“Come on Di!” Tommy called still waiting by the door, “hurry up!”

“They’re in the living room Diane.” Mom’s voice was calm, but she moved quickly as she stuck the last of the supplies into a picnic basket.

Diane went quickly to the living room and found the hot pink tennis shoes tucked under the coffee table. She hastily stuffed her feet into them and ran back to the door.

Mommy was waiting. Together they stepped out just as Tommy was just jumping off the far end of the porch and heading around the corner to the front of the house and the basement door.

After a brief struggle Mom got the door closed. She grabbed Diane’s hand.

“Come on,” she yell, her voice barely audible above the wind. They couldn’t really feel the full force of the wind yet, as they were still on the porch, but it was blowing fiercely and loud.

Dad was waiting at the top of the basement stairs when Tommy got to him. He was reaching out to help Tommy through the door, when the scream came. It was faint but compelling as it pierced the wind.

They turned to stare with helpless horror. The wind had snatched up their little girl, lifting her off her feet and into its currents. Only Mommy’s firm grip kept her from flying away. Diane flailed wildly, reaching out with her free hand to grab the pillar of the porch, while Mom dropped the picnic basket and grabbed her daughter with both hands. It was over in an instant, but an instant that lasted forever. Mommy held Diane tightly and carried her to the basement, her frightened eyes meeting the equally frightened eyes of her husband. Without a word, she carried the girl down into the safety of the basement, while Daddy went to retrieve the picnic basket.

When Dad reached the bottom of the basement steps, he saw Mom sitting on the old mattress. She still held onto Diane as if the wind might try to sneak in and grab her again, but Diane was beginning to squirm.

As she wiggled free of her Mother’s grasp, Diane looked up at her older brother, her eyes shining.

“Tommy, did you see me, did you? Tommy, I was FLYING!”

And finally, in the other time and that other place, the man watched as his sister’s feet left the ground. Even though he knew what to expect, he still felt amazement as she went up. He stared as she flew, the colorful wings of her hang glider carrying her further up and away from him. In his mind he heard an echo from twenty years in the past, “Tommy, did you see me, did you? Tommy, I was FLYING!”