Episode XII of the Storm chaser saga:
©Mark H. Pillsbury
Rick instinctively recalled feeling as he once did at Six Flags® over Texas, where as an eager young kid he rode The Rotor; an amusement park ride where victims stand against the inside of a cylinder, and once the cylinder is spinning fast enough, the floor drops out. The dark, dingy cylinder slowly achieved proper speed and with screaming and crazy looks, one could almost predict the exciting moment.
Instead, this JetRanger® fell at once with no culmination or thrills, just killer rotors snapping through intertwined steel cables of a hoisted elevator, plummeting the yellow cage terminally on its side into the water. The concussive blow was slightly relieved by the shallow tank, almost completely dry due to the longest drought in Texas history.
News photography later showed the wreckage at a deceptive angle; what appeared to be a lone helicopter resting sublimely in a Canadian glacier lake, actually was the yellow bird dumped in a dying pond of an east Texas ranch. Placid, shallow, and mossy, their wet grave was surrounded by burning wilderness and a flat clearing designated LZ (Landing Zone b.) Bravo.
The jarring crash hit Rick so hard it knocked him unconscious momentarily, but he revived quickly to see two of Jessica. The double and blurred vision didn’t keep him from finding her across the passenger compartment, blood oozing from her scalp. Jessica looked still and ashen, he thought, as he sloshed through the warm pond water to pull her up to him.
The quiet was deafening, his shock complete, the devastation total; but Rick quietly cradled Jessica’s limp body in the half-submerged compartment of the downed rescue helicopter.
“I am so sorry Jess.” Rick, almost sobbing, softly, lovingly spoke to her bloody face, gently patting her head. Despite the carnage, this was a tender moment; however she was either unconscious or dead. Rick began to conceptualize the suddenness of their fall was due to hitting the wires overhead. At the same time, it was painfully clear the momentum of his love had also crashed. Far-off dreams of weddings, suburban bliss, even children, just as surely were destroyed.
With so much unfinished business, regret, and terror processing through his shaken psyche, his natural urge was for action; however, he sat there listlessly in the murky green water comforting his lovely partner Jessica, “There, there, babe—it will be OK now; you're here in my arms,” he paused, holding back the flood of emotions, “I gotchu safe babe, you’re gonna be fine—just take it easy now, Jess.”
Time stopped for the storm chasers, and it was still like a sanctuary.
“God, take her from me now, please, I love her so much… Keep her safe for me, I love her so…” Rick could barely whisper, his eyes clenched shut. Grief robbed him of his voice.
He looked at her now in a daze, smiling sorrowfully, “Jessica girl, you get to ride the wind now, sail above the big storms and keep watch over me—will you watch over me, Jess?!” Rivulets of tears watered his pain.
Finally, Rick broke down and heaved with silent sobs, holding her closely to his heart, muttering, “There, there, Jess… it’s OK now...” But for Rick it was over. She was gone.
©Mark H. Pillsbury (Aug. 19, 2011)
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Showing posts with label storm chasers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label storm chasers. Show all posts
Friday, August 19, 2011
The End
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Sunday, July 24, 2011
Double feature: episodes 8 & 9 of the storm chaser saga...
Fiction ripped from the headlines... ©Mark H. Pillsbury
"Texas Remains a Tinderbox": http://goo.gl/R0psZ
"Wildfires cause Fatigue": http://goo.gl/hhBUi
"More Firefighters arriving by Air": http://goo.gl/7ZSqI
"Obama grants Texas appeal for Wildfire Disaster Declaration": http://goo.gl/Fzz9B
Part VIII: The Maze
Swiftly moving through the dense green maze towards another opening, Clay trudged farther in front of the storm chasers, to the point they eventually lost the link to his lead. They were not holding onto each other hand-to-fin like in Devil’s Throat, but at least there was visual connection. Smoke obstructed their peripheral vision, the searing heat and impenetrable forest squeezed the life out of them, and ultimately Clay went left and they turned right, leaving them alone in a clearing. Abruptly, they turned another chapter.
“Claaaaaay-tooarrrr!” Rick yelled forcefully more than once hearing no reply.
“God, where did he go?!” he asked Jessica.
Rick held Jessica’s hand while fleeing but somehow lost contact with his cousin for just an instant, the next thing he knew they were separated. They were devastated for losing their escort; Clay’s strength had been a lifeline.
“Should we stay here to see if he circles back?” Jessica asked.
Rick felt exhausted and confused, “Jess, let me think for a second; I don’t know what to do right now.”
“We need to find Clay, let’s go back to the spot when we split,” Rick said. Jessica did not want to return to the forest, but she understood Rick’s concern.
Retracing their steps seemed harder this time, Rick was not sure where they diverged, but he kept yelling Clay’s name, hoping for some response. Disoriented, they were lost inside of an isolated portion of Liberty County surrounded by wildfire without any viable tools to alleviate their dilemma. Circling broadly for almost an hour, becoming more depleted mentally and physically, their diving school training helped a little, but a creeping, debilitating, panicked vertigo overcame their efforts to stay in control.
“I have to stop, Rick!” Jessica pleaded. “This is insane. We aren’t going in the right direction.”
“You stay here I have to go find Clay.” Rick vowed, wild-eyed, weary.
“Rick, stay with me, puhlease!?” Jessica was in tears, insisting as she sat on a log. “Are you going crazy because of smoke inhalation?” “We cannot split up, Rick. All three of us will die alone!”
Rick and Jessica sat on a log, bereft of a response to this incredible challenge. Their relationship frayed in this crucible, fatigue reducing them to cornered beasts rather than reasonable young adults, their adrenaline-rich supply of courage used-up. For a couple that had faced huge storms, man’s oldest friend/foe brought them to their knees.
“I love you so much, Jess, I could never leave you.” “Whatever happens here, I want you to know that I love you.” Rick was crying or the smoke made his eyes water, it did not matter; Jessica buried her head in Rick’s arms and they sat defeated, but together.
Ironically, Rick wondered how all the twisters in tornado alley had not brought them closer, but now this wildfire forced them to confront their mortality, priorities, and love’s bond. All he wanted was to take care of Jessica and keep them safe. For once he yearned to live in peace as a family. As he enjoyed their close touch a fierce hot wind blew through the forest, and they stood-up immediately knowing another escape route was closed.
To their flank, they supposed from the west, all their senses told them the wall of fire was descending on them so instinctively they set off in the opposite direction. They were storm-chasers after all, and when the storm turns your direction the first reaction is to be nimble.
Going through the clearing and one more dense section of forest did not lead them to another road or passage to safety; instead they found themselves in another smoky chamber, where Jessica started to falter due to breathing too much smoke. They stopped again.
“I feel like I’m choking Rick, and the smoke is making me light-headed.” “Let’s stop now,” she said firmly.
“OK, babe, but we have to try to find a farm road again,” Rick responded, “maybe we can catch an emergency vehicle coming by, they have to be out here fighting this fire!”
Rick lost track of time, barely thinking about Clay anymore. He worried that he would have to carry Jessica out of the woods. He was exhausted, but he would do anything at this point to save her.
“Jess, let me carry you if you can’t go,” She was woozy and sitting limply against a tree. Rick gathered her up in loving embrace, going further toward what he hoped was a roadway. He could feel Jessica lose consciousness intermittently, but he continued.
In the distance they heard a faint, whirring siren and quickly moved that direction, finally reaching a narrow thoroughfare. Rick and Jessica fell into the middle of the road, not “planking,” but on one knee gasping for air. Overjoyed to see an emergency vehicle racing their direction, Jessica collapsed in Rick’s arms again. Laughing and crying together, it seemed that even though the raging fire and thick smoke were imminent, they again dodged nature’s onslaught.
“Hop in the back, we’re going to meet a supply helicopter near here!” The county fire truck was a brilliant red, with a bed full of equipment and two sooty, charred heroes in the front of the cab. Rick and Jessica did not take time to ask questions or explain, but immediately Rick thought of his cousin Clay.
“God, Jess, what’s gonna happen to Clay in that forest? It’s like hell in there!” Rick was concerned.
Jessica, too stunned to answer, could barely breathe; her normal respiration reduced to a mere wheeze. She was elated to be through devil’s throat once again.
Part IX: The Rescue
photo credit: Washington DNR
The stretch of burning trees broke for the first time in miles. As the scarlet fire vehicle pulled up, men in bright orange suits tried to ensure a gargantuan transformer didn’t burst into flames like the rest of the forest. The firefighter spoke into his walkie-talkie in order to gain clearance into the landing area. More uniformed helpers rushed over with water and aid for the two exhausted storm chasers.
The yellow rescue helicopter descended, chopping the smoky air, signalman waving wildly at the targeted destination well clear of the transformer wires.
“Hold on just a little longer, Jess. Copter’s landing and we will get outta here soon,” Rick urged, trying to motivate Jessica as the supplies were transferred off of the yellow bird. Fighting wildfires took manpower, and supplies constantly replenished by aerial support.
image: North Carolina
Chief of the Operations came up hurriedly, ordering them onboard. Rick thought it was odd that he didn’t ask them what they were doing in the middle of the smoldering Liberty County forest; nevertheless he grabbed the man at the door of the copter and told him they couldn’t leave yet. “You don’t understand Sir, but my cousin’s in the middle of that fire! You gotta do something about—” Rick was cut off by the foreman.
“Son, you either get on that helicopter now or wait for the next one, and I can’t guarantee when that will be, I will notify my men in the field to be on the lookout for your relative. Give me a description.” This put Rick in the position of having to choose between evacuating Jessica and staying to search for his cousin. He knew what he had to do.
To be continued in episode ten…
©Mark H. Pillsbury & ©Eliza C. Pillsbury (composed as a work of fiction 23 July 2011)
"Texas Remains a Tinderbox": http://goo.gl/R0psZ
"Wildfires cause Fatigue": http://goo.gl/hhBUi
"More Firefighters arriving by Air": http://goo.gl/7ZSqI
"Obama grants Texas appeal for Wildfire Disaster Declaration": http://goo.gl/Fzz9B
Part VIII: The Maze
Swiftly moving through the dense green maze towards another opening, Clay trudged farther in front of the storm chasers, to the point they eventually lost the link to his lead. They were not holding onto each other hand-to-fin like in Devil’s Throat, but at least there was visual connection. Smoke obstructed their peripheral vision, the searing heat and impenetrable forest squeezed the life out of them, and ultimately Clay went left and they turned right, leaving them alone in a clearing. Abruptly, they turned another chapter.
“Claaaaaay-tooarrrr!” Rick yelled forcefully more than once hearing no reply.
“God, where did he go?!” he asked Jessica.
Rick held Jessica’s hand while fleeing but somehow lost contact with his cousin for just an instant, the next thing he knew they were separated. They were devastated for losing their escort; Clay’s strength had been a lifeline.
“Should we stay here to see if he circles back?” Jessica asked.
Rick felt exhausted and confused, “Jess, let me think for a second; I don’t know what to do right now.”
“We need to find Clay, let’s go back to the spot when we split,” Rick said. Jessica did not want to return to the forest, but she understood Rick’s concern.
Retracing their steps seemed harder this time, Rick was not sure where they diverged, but he kept yelling Clay’s name, hoping for some response. Disoriented, they were lost inside of an isolated portion of Liberty County surrounded by wildfire without any viable tools to alleviate their dilemma. Circling broadly for almost an hour, becoming more depleted mentally and physically, their diving school training helped a little, but a creeping, debilitating, panicked vertigo overcame their efforts to stay in control.
“I have to stop, Rick!” Jessica pleaded. “This is insane. We aren’t going in the right direction.”
“You stay here I have to go find Clay.” Rick vowed, wild-eyed, weary.
“Rick, stay with me, puhlease!?” Jessica was in tears, insisting as she sat on a log. “Are you going crazy because of smoke inhalation?” “We cannot split up, Rick. All three of us will die alone!”
Rick and Jessica sat on a log, bereft of a response to this incredible challenge. Their relationship frayed in this crucible, fatigue reducing them to cornered beasts rather than reasonable young adults, their adrenaline-rich supply of courage used-up. For a couple that had faced huge storms, man’s oldest friend/foe brought them to their knees.
“I love you so much, Jess, I could never leave you.” “Whatever happens here, I want you to know that I love you.” Rick was crying or the smoke made his eyes water, it did not matter; Jessica buried her head in Rick’s arms and they sat defeated, but together.
Ironically, Rick wondered how all the twisters in tornado alley had not brought them closer, but now this wildfire forced them to confront their mortality, priorities, and love’s bond. All he wanted was to take care of Jessica and keep them safe. For once he yearned to live in peace as a family. As he enjoyed their close touch a fierce hot wind blew through the forest, and they stood-up immediately knowing another escape route was closed.
To their flank, they supposed from the west, all their senses told them the wall of fire was descending on them so instinctively they set off in the opposite direction. They were storm-chasers after all, and when the storm turns your direction the first reaction is to be nimble.
Going through the clearing and one more dense section of forest did not lead them to another road or passage to safety; instead they found themselves in another smoky chamber, where Jessica started to falter due to breathing too much smoke. They stopped again.
“I feel like I’m choking Rick, and the smoke is making me light-headed.” “Let’s stop now,” she said firmly.
“OK, babe, but we have to try to find a farm road again,” Rick responded, “maybe we can catch an emergency vehicle coming by, they have to be out here fighting this fire!”
Rick lost track of time, barely thinking about Clay anymore. He worried that he would have to carry Jessica out of the woods. He was exhausted, but he would do anything at this point to save her.
“Jess, let me carry you if you can’t go,” She was woozy and sitting limply against a tree. Rick gathered her up in loving embrace, going further toward what he hoped was a roadway. He could feel Jessica lose consciousness intermittently, but he continued.
In the distance they heard a faint, whirring siren and quickly moved that direction, finally reaching a narrow thoroughfare. Rick and Jessica fell into the middle of the road, not “planking,” but on one knee gasping for air. Overjoyed to see an emergency vehicle racing their direction, Jessica collapsed in Rick’s arms again. Laughing and crying together, it seemed that even though the raging fire and thick smoke were imminent, they again dodged nature’s onslaught.
“Hop in the back, we’re going to meet a supply helicopter near here!” The county fire truck was a brilliant red, with a bed full of equipment and two sooty, charred heroes in the front of the cab. Rick and Jessica did not take time to ask questions or explain, but immediately Rick thought of his cousin Clay.
“God, Jess, what’s gonna happen to Clay in that forest? It’s like hell in there!” Rick was concerned.
Jessica, too stunned to answer, could barely breathe; her normal respiration reduced to a mere wheeze. She was elated to be through devil’s throat once again.
Part IX: The Rescue
photo credit: Washington DNR
The stretch of burning trees broke for the first time in miles. As the scarlet fire vehicle pulled up, men in bright orange suits tried to ensure a gargantuan transformer didn’t burst into flames like the rest of the forest. The firefighter spoke into his walkie-talkie in order to gain clearance into the landing area. More uniformed helpers rushed over with water and aid for the two exhausted storm chasers.
The yellow rescue helicopter descended, chopping the smoky air, signalman waving wildly at the targeted destination well clear of the transformer wires.
“Hold on just a little longer, Jess. Copter’s landing and we will get outta here soon,” Rick urged, trying to motivate Jessica as the supplies were transferred off of the yellow bird. Fighting wildfires took manpower, and supplies constantly replenished by aerial support.
image: North Carolina
Chief of the Operations came up hurriedly, ordering them onboard. Rick thought it was odd that he didn’t ask them what they were doing in the middle of the smoldering Liberty County forest; nevertheless he grabbed the man at the door of the copter and told him they couldn’t leave yet. “You don’t understand Sir, but my cousin’s in the middle of that fire! You gotta do something about—” Rick was cut off by the foreman.
“Son, you either get on that helicopter now or wait for the next one, and I can’t guarantee when that will be, I will notify my men in the field to be on the lookout for your relative. Give me a description.” This put Rick in the position of having to choose between evacuating Jessica and staying to search for his cousin. He knew what he had to do.
To be continued in episode ten…
©Mark H. Pillsbury & ©Eliza C. Pillsbury (composed as a work of fiction 23 July 2011)
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Tuesday, July 19, 2011
The New Rostra (rostra novum) A new blog: Part VII: The Journey
The New Rostra (rostra novum) A new blog: Part VII: The Journey: "The Journey (from the storm chaser saga...) ©Mark H. Pillsbury Image: Augusta Jones dress/Hilary Jessica beamed walking down the aisle t..."
I envisioned episode VII would be the conclusion of the storm chaser saga, but I thought that Rick was so full of regret for not having married Jessica and settled down, essentially doing what she had nagged him about for over a year; that the regret illustrated by his daydream would merit one more post. They have run out of options in this thick Texas woodland. The final chapter will be called "A time to Die" from the ecclesiastical reference made in the sixth episode. How many more it takes to get to the conclusion, I just don't know at this point, but keep reading!?
image credit: ©Lego (Fire and Rescue set)
I envisioned episode VII would be the conclusion of the storm chaser saga, but I thought that Rick was so full of regret for not having married Jessica and settled down, essentially doing what she had nagged him about for over a year; that the regret illustrated by his daydream would merit one more post. They have run out of options in this thick Texas woodland. The final chapter will be called "A time to Die" from the ecclesiastical reference made in the sixth episode. How many more it takes to get to the conclusion, I just don't know at this point, but keep reading!?
image credit: ©Lego (Fire and Rescue set)
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Fire and Rain: fiction ripped from the headlines
Audubon Magazine
Part Two: fiction ripped from the headlines...
The Fire Pounces
Rick felt at home in someone else’s bed, often he slept in the Tahoe. It was a pleasure to be unplugged and free to sleep-in, surprisingly he was dreaming about Mexico.
image credit: Mike Hollingshead, Eric Nguyen
Storm chasing was a young person’s game; it took the commitment of a professional athlete, constantly on the road, the pressure to sink the big shot, the same highs and lows of victory and defeat. An integral part of storm chasing was waiting, supplanted by quick bursts of energy and adrenaline. He loved it more than Jessica, but they both slept happily, peacefully for the first time in days. Dreamland was a bucolic scene that early morning in Texas, yet outside, roiled a fire as wild as any super-cell ever hunted, bearing down on the beautiful couple.
“Jess, get up!” Rick shook his partner. “Get up, I smell smoke.”
She was groggy, “Smoke?” Jessica was confused. “Is your phone on?” She asked.
He fumbled through his backpack; it was dead. “I think my battery is done! Damnit, all my stuff is out in the truck,” Rick responded. They were uneasy with the lingering smell of burning brush wafting through the house.
The rush to the Tahoe gave Rick no assurances, the smell of smoke was heavier, and as dawn broke there was a red glow on the horizon. Darkness cloaked the pyrocumulus cloud forming above. Jessica was already headed up the ranch road in flip-flops, Rick followed her, still waking up.
image: Garganta del diablo en Cozumel
Rick remembered “Devil’s Throat,” off the coast of Cozumel: Jessica was the first diver through the long coral tunnel over 100-feet below the surface, and heading up the ranch road seemed eerily similar; smoke formed a tunnel and at the entrance to the ranch where the trees opened into a clearing, they could see the wall of flames in the distance.
Over a million acres of dry trees fueled a “mega-fire” which burned at frightening temperatures, spawning fire-whirls spinning off tornadic winds of 80 mhp. The only hope to stop such destruction was a change in the weather; the inferno was out of control.
The smart phone interrupted. Jessica’s expensive weather app delivered three ominous chimes. Each was a warning from the previous night about wild fires raging through Texas. They could see darkness, which was the tree line in the distance, but leaping mirthfully from the tops, red sheets of fire snapped like firecrackers. Instinct dominated what happened next. Rick pivoted like a point-guard, back to the Tahoe, grabbing the laptop computer on his way to the house.
Amazingly, Clay was still asleep snoring like a black Labrador, blissfully ignorant. Jessica watched over Rick’s shoulder as he looked up coverage warning maps, reading NWS updates. During their sabbatical, wild fires encircled Liberty County; Clay seemed so surprised and sleepy they could have been showing him a foreign newspaper.
Rick and Clay shuttled back outside, as Jessica studied the laptop. “What in the hell is going on, Rick?” Clay asks.
“Can you see the shooting flames above the tree line, Clay?” Rick shot back, “I think we need to get outta here.”
They both internally inventoried their emotions at the moment, recognizing regret, ignorance, terror, flight, confusion, curiosity, and urgency, all competing for bandwidth inside the central processing unit known as their hung-over brains. “I knew there were some wild fires around Texas, but I gotta tell ‘ya Rick, this caught me off-guard, and it looks a whole lot closer than I would like! There’s just a coupla ways off this ranch and the county roads are hard to navigate,” Clay responded to the ominous wall of flame at which they both stared.
“Alright.” Rick wasn't quite listening, planning another quick exit, almost instantaneously assuming command. “Load your truck.” He said, wheeling again toward the house.
“I'll get Jess,” he was running back down the road.
“We’re burnin daylight!” Clay was one step behind, but he caught the irony of the last statement.
Photo credit: AP
##
(to be continued in Part 3)
©Mark H. Pillsbury
Part Two: fiction ripped from the headlines...
The Fire Pounces
Rick felt at home in someone else’s bed, often he slept in the Tahoe. It was a pleasure to be unplugged and free to sleep-in, surprisingly he was dreaming about Mexico.
image credit: Mike Hollingshead, Eric Nguyen
Storm chasing was a young person’s game; it took the commitment of a professional athlete, constantly on the road, the pressure to sink the big shot, the same highs and lows of victory and defeat. An integral part of storm chasing was waiting, supplanted by quick bursts of energy and adrenaline. He loved it more than Jessica, but they both slept happily, peacefully for the first time in days. Dreamland was a bucolic scene that early morning in Texas, yet outside, roiled a fire as wild as any super-cell ever hunted, bearing down on the beautiful couple.
“Jess, get up!” Rick shook his partner. “Get up, I smell smoke.”
She was groggy, “Smoke?” Jessica was confused. “Is your phone on?” She asked.
He fumbled through his backpack; it was dead. “I think my battery is done! Damnit, all my stuff is out in the truck,” Rick responded. They were uneasy with the lingering smell of burning brush wafting through the house.
The rush to the Tahoe gave Rick no assurances, the smell of smoke was heavier, and as dawn broke there was a red glow on the horizon. Darkness cloaked the pyrocumulus cloud forming above. Jessica was already headed up the ranch road in flip-flops, Rick followed her, still waking up.
image: Garganta del diablo en Cozumel
Rick remembered “Devil’s Throat,” off the coast of Cozumel: Jessica was the first diver through the long coral tunnel over 100-feet below the surface, and heading up the ranch road seemed eerily similar; smoke formed a tunnel and at the entrance to the ranch where the trees opened into a clearing, they could see the wall of flames in the distance.
Over a million acres of dry trees fueled a “mega-fire” which burned at frightening temperatures, spawning fire-whirls spinning off tornadic winds of 80 mhp. The only hope to stop such destruction was a change in the weather; the inferno was out of control.
The smart phone interrupted. Jessica’s expensive weather app delivered three ominous chimes. Each was a warning from the previous night about wild fires raging through Texas. They could see darkness, which was the tree line in the distance, but leaping mirthfully from the tops, red sheets of fire snapped like firecrackers. Instinct dominated what happened next. Rick pivoted like a point-guard, back to the Tahoe, grabbing the laptop computer on his way to the house.
Amazingly, Clay was still asleep snoring like a black Labrador, blissfully ignorant. Jessica watched over Rick’s shoulder as he looked up coverage warning maps, reading NWS updates. During their sabbatical, wild fires encircled Liberty County; Clay seemed so surprised and sleepy they could have been showing him a foreign newspaper.
Rick and Clay shuttled back outside, as Jessica studied the laptop. “What in the hell is going on, Rick?” Clay asks.
“Can you see the shooting flames above the tree line, Clay?” Rick shot back, “I think we need to get outta here.”
They both internally inventoried their emotions at the moment, recognizing regret, ignorance, terror, flight, confusion, curiosity, and urgency, all competing for bandwidth inside the central processing unit known as their hung-over brains. “I knew there were some wild fires around Texas, but I gotta tell ‘ya Rick, this caught me off-guard, and it looks a whole lot closer than I would like! There’s just a coupla ways off this ranch and the county roads are hard to navigate,” Clay responded to the ominous wall of flame at which they both stared.
“Alright.” Rick wasn't quite listening, planning another quick exit, almost instantaneously assuming command. “Load your truck.” He said, wheeling again toward the house.
“I'll get Jess,” he was running back down the road.
“We’re burnin daylight!” Clay was one step behind, but he caught the irony of the last statement.
Photo credit: AP
##
(to be continued in Part 3)
©Mark H. Pillsbury
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