Riding Out the Storm

Again, early turn of the century. And again, another assignment for the Institute of Children's Literature.


          This is going to be the worst summer ever. I have to spend it with my sister, Carly, here at Uncle Bud's farm. Uncle Bud used to work at this big university studying meteorology or thermodynamics or something like that. He told Mom that he got the farm with a government grant to continue some “experiments”. Anyway, our parents think this will be a great “ed-U-cational” experience. I'll bet they only want to keep me away from computers. Josh, Matt, and ZD just got this new game, “ThunderKiller”, that you can play over the internet. So much for all day gaming with the guys. And it looks as if it's going to rain.
          “Hey, Ryan! Uncle Bud is going to show us around on his tractor!” Carly's a year younger than me. She's OK for a girl.
          “Now this here big red barn is where I park the tractor and keep a few cows and a horse named Lightning,” Uncle Bud said.
          “Lightning! Is he safe to ride?” asked Carly.
          “Why certainly. His name may be Lightning, but he's as gentle as a breeze. Think you might want to ride him, Ryan?”
          “I don't think so. I'm not much into yippee-i-oh-ky-ay.”
          “If you change your mind, I'll show you how to saddle him up. Now after you get chores done, you kids can roam around the farm wherever you like. I just ask that you stay out of my lab over there.”
          “It just looks like a barn with a bunch of satellite dishes and windmills and stuff.” I'm very observant like that.
          “It was a barn,” Uncle Bud said. “I've just modified it somewhat. Those aren't satellite dishes. They're 'atmospheric generators'. And those windmills can withstand high velocity winds. It's rather complicated. There's an intercom at the entrance. I wouldn't hear you if you knocked. The doors and walls have been reinforced and make the whole building soundproof.”

          We've been here a whole week and I think I'd rather be in Mrs. Strunk's English class. Carly's been riding Lightning. Not me. No way. I've helped with the milking, and I've seen parts of a cow I'd rather not discuss. They smell so bad my nose wants to puke. There's nothing on TV—basic cable, farm reports, and the Weather Channel, which Uncle Bud has on all the time. And it still looks like rain.
          I've been wanting to see what's so secret about Uncle Bud's lab, but the windows are all bricked up. You can't see anything when he opens the door. It's like trying to look inside the teacher's lounge when a teacher goes in or out.
          “Ryan. Have you seen Uncle Bud?” Carly asked me while I watched an action packed weather report.
          “Nope.”
          “Beep, beep, beep. A tornado warning is in effect until 7:00 PM this evening for the following counties…” Several nearby counties were named and then ours.
          “Was that our county, Ryan?”
          “Sure was. Let's find Uncle Bud.” I ran to the door. It's not as if I was scared or anything, I just figured Uncle Bud ought to know.
          “Ryan! Look! A twister!”
          OK. Now I was scared.
          “Carly! Ryan! Over here! In the lab!” Uncle Bud was waving wildly at us.
          When we got inside the lab, it was like something right out of Star Trek or something.
          “Shouldn't we be in a basement, Uncle Bud?” Carly asked.
          “We'll be safe in here, Carly. Remember, the walls have been specially reinforced. Now watch this monitor while I adjust the remote camera on the roof. Excellent! The twister is heading directly for us.”
          “Are you nuts?” I'm not being disrespectful, but under the circumstances…
          “It's all right, Ryan. I was hoping this would happen. Using the atmospheric generators I've set up a low pressure system around the lab to attract the twister. Wind speeds indicate this is an F5, the strongest.”
          “Why would you want to attract a tornado?”
          “To stop it with its own power. The windmills will use the tornado's power to generate an equal and opposite pressure system using the atmosperic generators to kill the twister.”
          “Whoa! Those winds are getting stronger. Are you sure these walls will hold? They're vibrating worse than a set of bad speakers. And the floor is starting to feel wobbly.”
          “Uncle Bud?”
          “Yes, Carly.”
          “It looks as if the camera is spinning around. There's the house. There's the big red barn. There the house again. The barn. The house. Why do they look as if they're getting farther away?”
          “I don't think it's just the camera that's spinning,” Uncle Bud answered. “You kids sit down and hold on tight.”
          It's a good thing I like rollercoasters. Wait until the guys hear about this one. If I get to tell them.
          “Ryan! Take control of that joystick. Watch the monitor and try to keep the generators pointed inside the storm, while I adjust these voltages.”
          Holding the joystick was like trying to keep a dog from chasing a cat. The twister seemed to be jumping from one side of the screen to the other. I held on tight hoping there was a way to turn the rumble feature off.
          “OK. Wind speeds are slowing.” Uncle Bud turned a few dials and pushed some levers. “Atmospheric pressure is stabilizing. I think we're actually stopping it.”
          “So how are we going to land this…” SLAM! CRASH! CRACK!
          That answered that. I think Uncle Bud should have installed seat belts and airbags.
          “You kids all right?”
          “Yeah, we're OK,” I said. Bruised a bit, a little airsick, but OK.
          Carly was holding her knee. “I think so,” she said.
          “I'm sorry about the 'ride'. The lab wasn't supposed to be ripped from the foundation. We'll have to make sure that doesn't happen next time.”
          “Next time?” I think I'd rather ride Lightning.