Stormsurge

STORMSURGE

By Milo L. Thompson

Copyright 2016 Milo L. Thompson

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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The rain started at 9:00 that late August morning. It was a gentle sprinkle, one of those light summer showers that made everything smell so good.

Clay stared out the blinds of his classroom window and watched the flower petals dancing from side to side, up and down, as the tiny drops pelted them. He touched the glass and felt it cooling as the overcast blocked the summer sun’s heat.

Mr. Edwards?

He turned back to the room full of anxious faces as they struggled with the weekly quiz. He saw the upraised hand and nodded. Yes, Todd?

When we’re finished with the quiz can we go outside?

Clay smiled. Fair request. A rainfall here was headline news, and one in the desert heat of summertime was like manna from Heaven. All right, I’ll allow it, but only after the whole class is done with the test.

There was a chorus of groans. But Judy will take all day! She’s as slow as a snail!

Enough of that. It’s all or none. Now concentrate on your work. Clay stepped away from the window and started pacing the aisles, making sure each of the students was on task. There was a crack of thunder and every face turned to the window. Yeah, Clay thought, I’d love to be out there, too. He glanced at the wall clock. Four hours left before school would be out. He hoped it would still be raining by then. As if on cue the rain suddenly began coming down in sheets and the sky darkened to nighttime. Clay frowned. But not this hard.

The bell rang and the kids hurriedly threw their papers on his desk and ran out of the room. Clay gathered them up into a neat pile and then clicked off the lights and locked the room after him. He headed toward the cafeteria, making this way down the hall now filled with screaming kids.

There was several of the faculty in line with the children waiting with their trays to get the latest Michelle Obama approved meal. He bypassed them and went straight to the vending machines. He slipped in the quarters and received a bag of chips and then a Mars bar. The next machine gave him a Coke and he headed for the teachers’ table. He smiled. Mary was already there, busily emptying her brown bag of goodies and spreading them out in front of her.

So what did you bring today? Steak and lobster?

She glanced up at him and gave him a smile. Sure, all on whole wheat bread. I see you’re eating healthy.

I’m a firm believer in junk food, but now I hear they’re planning on taking the machines out of here. What do they expect me to do – starve to death?

Mary gave a polite little laugh and then turned away to a paperback she’d packed in her lunch bag.

Clay stared at her. God, she was beautiful. He wondered what would have happened if he’d met her four years ago, before he married Doris. He sighed. No good to fantasize. He looked away and concentrated on a mouthful of chips.

Coach Gonzales nudged him. I bet they shut down early. He nodded at the window. That rain’s going to cause some flooding.

Clay followed his gaze. Yeah, maybe.

This town’s drainage system isn’t built to handle all this water. I remember back in ’82 when we had a storm like this. Went into the record books, that one did. Took three days for the waters to go back down. You can still see the line ion the city hall where the flood crested. That was a real mess.

Clay nodded. You definitely won’t have football practice today.

Gonzales nodded. Team’s not worth a crap anyway. I got all these sophomores in who don’t even know how to put on their helmets right. Sure sorry when all those seniors were graduated out. I kind of wish they’d held at least a few of them back so our Zephyrs would at least have a chance this season.

There’s always soccer to look forward to in the Spring.

Gonzales gave him a crusty look and turned away. Clay turned back to Mary. She was already tucking her scraps into her sack and getting up. Leaving so soon?

I’ve got some health posters I have got to put up for my next class. She glanced out the window. I don’t suppose you have an extra umbrella lying around?

I don’t even own one. I imagine half the people here don’t either. This is supposed to be the land of endless sunshine.

She gave him a polite smile and turned and left.

Clay watched her go and gave a deep sigh. If only, he mumbled to himself.

Talking to yourself now? Vice Principal Matthews sat down next to him.

Clay turned back to his chips. Humming. You know, one of those songs that keep going through your head.

You mean like ‘Pretty Woman’?

Clay looked at him.

So tell me, how are you and your beautiful wife Doris getting along?

Fine, Clay shifted his feet. Just great.

Good, Matthews nodded and then got up. I like to see all of our teachers in a happy marriage.

Clay watched him go and bit his lip. He didn’t think he was being that obvious. Not good. If Matthews noticed, then maybe some of the kids did, too. They all knew he was married. Not good at all. He crumpled up the bag of chips and slid back from the table. Best he takes himself and his Mars bar back to the classroom where he could be alone. He walked to the cafeteria doors and had a weird feeling every eye was watching him. No, sir, this wasn’t good at all.

He passed by the school’s front doors and paused to look at the torrential rain.

One hell of a gulley washer, Albert the security guard said to him.

Clay nodded. Well, the plants needed it.

Albert chuckled. You mean the cactus? Hell, they can thrive in less than half an inch of water a year.

Clay gave him a glance and walked on to his classroom. He locked the door behind him and went to the windows. The rain was now pounding against them like machinegun bullets. He put his hand on the glass and felt the coolness. He frowned. Hadn’t seen a rain like this since he’d left Louisiana. But, then, they had hurricanes there. This sure as hell wasn’t a hurricane. He turned and went to his desk and flopped down wearily. God, Clay, what are you doing? You shouldn’t even be thinking about another woman. Doris has been good for you. She cooks, she cleans, and she can even change a flat tire. And even if you were single what makes you think Mary Hoffman would even give you a chance? Every single man in this school is drooling after her.

The wall speaker suddenly came on. Attention, staff and students. This is Principal Hodges. Due to the storm we are closing the school at two o’clock. Buses will be waiting at their regularly assigned places. Anyone needing to call for a ride should come to the office. Teachers, allow only two at a time to leave your classes.

The bell rang then and Clay got up and went over and unlocked the door. The hall was instantly filled with kids running and screaming and laughing. Four of them skidded to a halt in front of him. We need office passes! All of us!

You heard the Principal. Only two at a time.

Me first! No, me! Mr. Edwards, me, please!"

Clay went back to his desk, the kids following him like glue. He initialed two of the forms and held them out. You guys decide.

There was a tussle for a moment and then two girls ran out of the room leaving the other two looking dejected. You’ll be next, okay?

They gave him sullen looks and shuffled off to their desks.

Clay tried to start the day’s lesson, but the rain was banging against the windows so hard he had to yell to be heard. It was obvious after a few minutes nobody was paying attention anyway. Those who weren’t mesmerized by the storm outside were busily whispering to each other or texting on their phones. Clay pounded his fist on the desk for attention. The room fell silent. Clay started to say something in the calm still voice all teachers are supposed to have and realized he still would have to yell to be heard. Everybody get out your books! Personal study! Chapter Eight! He watched as a few of them picked up their texts and riffled through the pages, but most of them went right back to their whispering and cellphones. Clay sat down. To hell with it. It was already twenty till two. Let them have their day.

Ten minutes later the PA asked for all those taking buses to report to their assigned places. Clay knew he only had eight out of the thirty that took the rides, but instantly the whole classroom was out the door. He shrugged. Fine with him. He clicked his briefcase shut and got out his keys. The hall was already jammed with kids getting into their lockers and running for the exits. He spotted Mary at the end of the hall having words with some girl student. He waited until she was done and then walked over. I think this is what is properly defined as pandemonium.

She looked at him and sighed wearily. More like mob rule. My kids are normally so well behaved.

Likewise. He waited while she went back inside her room and cleared off her desk and then walked with her down the now almost empty hall. They stopped at the front door and checked with Vice Principal Matthews to see if he needed any help getting the kids their rides. He eyeballed both of them a moment and then waved them on.

What’s with that look? Mary asked.

You mean Matthews? Who knows? Probably just having a bad day. Here, he said and pulled off his corduroy blazer. Put this over your head.

No! She pushed him back. I’m fine. My car’s right over there.

Well, if you –

Just then there was the sound of a horn and Clay looked to see Doris in their Cherokee waving at him. He waved back and took off at a sprint across the puddled asphalt. Hi, he said as he got into the passenger seat. Surprised to see you here.

Laura Morgan called me and said the school was letting out early. She paused. Weren’t you going to call?

I was, but –

Were you planning on her giving you a ride? She nodded toward Mary as her car passed.

No, I just got caught up in things. The kids were going crazy with all this rain and –

Phillip says the Weather Service doesn’t know when it will end.

Who’s Phillip?

Phillip – Laura’s husband. He called the NOAA – the National Weather Service. I guess being a science teacher he’s got an in that we ordinary folks don’t. Her name’s Mary, right?

Clay looked at her. Who?

That girl. I see you with her a lot.

Clay forced a laugh. Well, we are both teachers. Of course we all know each other.

But you don’t know Phillip?

Clay licked his lips. It just didn’t register for a minute. Of course I know Phillip. They rode the rest of the way in silence.

Clay had rented a small adobe-faced house in a subdivision full of adobe-faced houses. Several of the teachers lived out there. It was affordable and not too far from the school. Clay had been teaching history in New Orleans, but after a year decided he could only take so much jazz music, and that one kid who said he going to put a voodoo curse on him cinched the deal. Doris balked at the move. Her family lived in New Orleans and it was the only home she’d ever known. Clay argued that the dry climate of the desert southwest was supposed to be good for people with breathing problems. Not that he or Doris had any, but it was good to know in case they ever did.

Clinton City was right on the border of Arizona and New Mexico, smack in the middle of nowhere. Population 6000, according to the census, but you sure couldn’t tell where they were all hiding. The only industry was The School, which catered to the ranchers for about twenty miles around. One school for kinder through high school. The elementary part was walled off from the 9-12 grades but it was all still in the one building. The pay was about the same as Louisiana but here the demographics had changed to where the black kids there had all been replaced by Hispanic kids here. Clay tried to brush up on his Spanish, which it seemed everybody knew, but he wasn’t really good with languages.

There were two restaurants in town, Carlita’s Café and a Dairy Queen. There was a Catholic church that looked like an old Spanish mission and a small Southern Baptist one that looked like it was somebody’s home. Clay figured the one was for the Hispanics and the other for the whites, but he was only guessing. Clay hadn’t been to any church in years. Didn’t plan on going, didn’t care to. Oh, and there was also a saloon called the Kitty Kat Klub.

Doris pulled up in the parking lot of the Dollar General.

Clay frowned. What’s here?

We need umbrellas. You go. I’ll wait.

Clay gave her a look and