The Storm (old)
Date 3/24/02
Jack had just had the worst day of his life. He had lost the biggest account he had and the company was not happy with him. Management had shuffled him from meeting to meeting all afternoon. Now it was time to go home and all Jack wanted to do was relax in his easy chair and watch the baseball game on television. A cold beer would taste good right now.
As Jack pulled out of the underground garage, he noticed it had gotten dark early. It was raining. That was okay, though, since the gloom matched his mood. The Envoys were playing away tonight so the rain would not interfere with his plans for watching the game.
Pulling into traffic, Jack reviewed his day. He knew that he had done everything possible to keep the account. Even so, he knew he would have to work twice as hard to rebuild his client base. Only then the company might trust him again. It was raining heavier now and Jack saw lightning in the distance. He adjusted his speed, turned on the radio and resumed his musings. The next three months were going to be a bitch! Jack already had a few leads for new business; he knew this would take time. Meanwhile, he needed to prove his worth to the partners. He needed quick results that would give him the opportunity to pursue his leads. Jack slammed on the brake. Traffic had come to a standstill in front of him. The rain was coming down so hard now seeing was difficult. Lightning crackled right in front of him. A loud clap of thunder followed almost instantly making Jack jump. He turned up the radio hoping to hear a weather report or traffic report. He got neither. However, traffic was moving again—at a crawl.
Forty-five minutes later, Jack pulled into his driveway. He really needed that beer now. The weather and accidents had lengthened his ride home considerably. The rain was still very heavy and Jack was soaked by the time he reached his door. He would have to remember to take his suit to the cleaners after it dried. Stepping inside, he shook himself off and ran a hand through his hair. Water sprayed all over the entranceway. He made a mental note to get a haircut as well.
Jack stepped out of his shoes and left them by the door. Padding to the bedroom in stocking feet, he loosened his tie and pulled it over his head. Passing through the bedroom and entering the bathroom, he hung his suit jacket on the shower rack. His pants also went on the rack. His shirt was left on top of the laundry basket. Back in the bedroom, he found his favorite sweat pants and T-shirt and put them on. Lastly, he stuffed his feet into a lace-less pair of sneakers. He was ready for the evening and looked like he felt . . . ragged.
In the kitchen, Jack found some leftover pizza and a beer. He took his first long drink from the bottle gratefully. Peering out the window, he noticed the rain had not let up. Lightning flashed as he let the curtain fall back into place. The thunder came a few seconds later. Reinforced with his provisions of food and drink, Jack headed to the living room in search of his chair and the television.
Jack found the remote control under the couch and the guide stuffed into the side of his chair. He consulted the guide to see what channel he needed and sat down armed with the remote. He aimed the remote directly at the television and stretched his finger over the “on” button. Just as he pressed the button, the power went out! Like an idiot, Jack pressed the “on” button several more times. It was as if doing so would not only turn the television on, but restore power as well. All the while, Jack was grumbling to himself. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he stumbled to the window to make sure he was not the only one submerged in darkness. The only light he saw in the neighborhood was an occasional flash of lightning. Of course, a deep grumble of thunder accompanied each flash. Okay, so there would be no game–at least, not yet. Jack kept a supply of candles and matches in the kitchen. He was not a creature of the dark and often had to be reminded to turn lights off.
There were many mornings he wandered through the house turning off lights that had been on all night. His neighbors probably thought he was wild since his lights were always on. He only bumped into four pieces of furniture en route to the kitchen. Each uttered curse was louder than the previous.
Reaching the kitchen in one piece and without losing any blood, Jack fumbled in the drawer for candles. He found one good sized candle and two stubs. Next, he fumbled around the same drawer for matches. He could not find any! Momentarily at a loss, Jack stood in the dark staring at a lightless candle that he could barely see. The light finally dawned in his brain. He had two options. He could either light a candle using the stove or carry his booty back to the living room so he could use the fireplace matches. His shins were still smarting from colliding with the furniture so he did not relish stumbling darkly and blindly back to the living room. He turned his attention to the stove. After a couple of false starts and burnt fingers, Jack tried using a toothpick as a match. This worked.
Fortified with light, Jack returned to the living room and his beer. Just as he settled into his chair again, a bright flash of lightning illuminated the room. Before the room returned to darkness, a great crash of thunder reverberated through the house. The house shook mightily and Jack wondered if he had been hit. As he rose again from his chair, he saw her and froze. She was gowned completely in white and radiated her own light. She stood in the corner and meekly observed Jack.
“Who are you?”
“I am your life.”
“You can’t be. You’re too beautiful and hopeful. My life isn’t either of those things.”
“Oh, but you’re wrong Jack. You’ve had some setbacks, granted, but your life is everything it should be. You only need to recognize this and free yourself of doubt. It will all come together then.”
“Yeah, right. That’s easier said than done!”
“Jack, silly, of course it is easier to say than do. If you didn’t have to work for it, you wouldn’t value your achievements. You’ll see.”
“I suppose you’re right . . . but how do I . . . ?”
The power had been restored with one last clap of thunder and she was gone. Jack stared at the corner of the room for a long time. Finally, he just shook his head knowing that what just happened was not possible. On his way back to the kitchen for another beer, Jack found himself whistling a merry tune. Life is good.
Jack had just had the worst day of his life. He had lost the biggest account he had and the company was not happy with him. Management had shuffled him from meeting to meeting all afternoon. Now it was time to go home and all Jack wanted to do was relax in his easy chair and watch the baseball game on television. A cold beer would taste good right now.
As Jack pulled out of the underground garage, he noticed it had gotten dark early. It was raining. That was okay, though, since the gloom matched his mood. The Envoys were playing away tonight so the rain would not interfere with his plans for watching the game.
Pulling into traffic, Jack reviewed his day. He knew that he had done everything possible to keep the account. Even so, he knew he would have to work twice as hard to rebuild his client base. Only then the company might trust him again. It was raining heavier now and Jack saw lightning in the distance. He adjusted his speed, turned on the radio and resumed his musings. The next three months were going to be a bitch! Jack already had a few leads for new business; he knew this would take time. Meanwhile, he needed to prove his worth to the partners. He needed quick results that would give him the opportunity to pursue his leads. Jack slammed on the brake. Traffic had come to a standstill in front of him. The rain was coming down so hard now seeing was difficult. Lightning crackled right in front of him. A loud clap of thunder followed almost instantly making Jack jump. He turned up the radio hoping to hear a weather report or traffic report. He got neither. However, traffic was moving again—at a crawl.
Forty-five minutes later, Jack pulled into his driveway. He really needed that beer now. The weather and accidents had lengthened his ride home considerably. The rain was still very heavy and Jack was soaked by the time he reached his door. He would have to remember to take his suit to the cleaners after it dried. Stepping inside, he shook himself off and ran a hand through his hair. Water sprayed all over the entranceway. He made a mental note to get a haircut as well.
Jack stepped out of his shoes and left them by the door. Padding to the bedroom in stocking feet, he loosened his tie and pulled it over his head. Passing through the bedroom and entering the bathroom, he hung his suit jacket on the shower rack. His pants also went on the rack. His shirt was left on top of the laundry basket. Back in the bedroom, he found his favorite sweat pants and T-shirt and put them on. Lastly, he stuffed his feet into a lace-less pair of sneakers. He was ready for the evening and looked like he felt . . . ragged.
In the kitchen, Jack found some leftover pizza and a beer. He took his first long drink from the bottle gratefully. Peering out the window, he noticed the rain had not let up. Lightning flashed as he let the curtain fall back into place. The thunder came a few seconds later. Reinforced with his provisions of food and drink, Jack headed to the living room in search of his chair and the television.
Jack found the remote control under the couch and the guide stuffed into the side of his chair. He consulted the guide to see what channel he needed and sat down armed with the remote. He aimed the remote directly at the television and stretched his finger over the “on” button. Just as he pressed the button, the power went out! Like an idiot, Jack pressed the “on” button several more times. It was as if doing so would not only turn the television on, but restore power as well. All the while, Jack was grumbling to himself. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he stumbled to the window to make sure he was not the only one submerged in darkness. The only light he saw in the neighborhood was an occasional flash of lightning. Of course, a deep grumble of thunder accompanied each flash. Okay, so there would be no game–at least, not yet. Jack kept a supply of candles and matches in the kitchen. He was not a creature of the dark and often had to be reminded to turn lights off.
There were many mornings he wandered through the house turning off lights that had been on all night. His neighbors probably thought he was wild since his lights were always on. He only bumped into four pieces of furniture en route to the kitchen. Each uttered curse was louder than the previous.
Reaching the kitchen in one piece and without losing any blood, Jack fumbled in the drawer for candles. He found one good sized candle and two stubs. Next, he fumbled around the same drawer for matches. He could not find any! Momentarily at a loss, Jack stood in the dark staring at a lightless candle that he could barely see. The light finally dawned in his brain. He had two options. He could either light a candle using the stove or carry his booty back to the living room so he could use the fireplace matches. His shins were still smarting from colliding with the furniture so he did not relish stumbling darkly and blindly back to the living room. He turned his attention to the stove. After a couple of false starts and burnt fingers, Jack tried using a toothpick as a match. This worked.
Fortified with light, Jack returned to the living room and his beer. Just as he settled into his chair again, a bright flash of lightning illuminated the room. Before the room returned to darkness, a great crash of thunder reverberated through the house. The house shook mightily and Jack wondered if he had been hit. As he rose again from his chair, he saw her and froze. She was gowned completely in white and radiated her own light. She stood in the corner and meekly observed Jack.
“Who are you?”
“I am your life.”
“You can’t be. You’re too beautiful and hopeful. My life isn’t either of those things.”
“Oh, but you’re wrong Jack. You’ve had some setbacks, granted, but your life is everything it should be. You only need to recognize this and free yourself of doubt. It will all come together then.”
“Yeah, right. That’s easier said than done!”
“Jack, silly, of course it is easier to say than do. If you didn’t have to work for it, you wouldn’t value your achievements. You’ll see.”
“I suppose you’re right . . . but how do I . . . ?”
The power had been restored with one last clap of thunder and she was gone. Jack stared at the corner of the room for a long time. Finally, he just shook his head knowing that what just happened was not possible. On his way back to the kitchen for another beer, Jack found himself whistling a merry tune. Life is good.
posted by Vickie at 9:45 PM
2 Comments:
lol that wasn't nice! You know how easily spooked i am? You gave me goosebumps - spooky lady, even with tidings of hope and stuff.
Sorry, hon. It was only supposed to be spooky to Jack.
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