Super Storm & Roaches

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“Wrong Turns Write Life”

Eight of us circled a huge wooden dining table, playing a board game and laughing it up. The island rental house had no air-conditioning because the screened windows all around provided a cool lake breeze.

Things were relaxed and peaceful until an unexpected and massive crack of thunder shook everyone out of their skin. The breeze picked up, and the sun dimmed, but we figured we had enough time for someone to finish their turn at the game before we buttoned down the hatches and watched the storm roll in.

But before the dice rolled, a near-hurricane-force wind blasted us and everything in the house!

Contents of shelves blew to the floor, a picture flew off the wall, and darkness fell on us all. At first, we tried to anchor things on the deck and around the house until a rather large limb crashed to the ground too close for comfort. We scrambled everyone to an interior closet, emptied it, and packed it with bodies, wondering if the roof would tear off over our heads or come down and bury us.

We did a quick head count and came up with one short. A flash search party found and retrieved my niece from the upstairs bedroom, closing the windows.

When all was finally clear, we assessed the damage and wondered how long it would take to restore electricity on an island. It wasn’t much of a storm as far as time went. It hardly rained, and after several minutes of wind blasts, it died down as quickly as it kicked up. But in that short time, we’d discover it had done a lot of damage.

We soon discovered that the toilets and water supply also needed electricity.

In the morning, we discovered several telephone poles on the island’s edge had blown over. The other half of the island still had power. But our fate rested in the hands of a crew that had to be notified on the mainland and catch a ferry across before they could even begin working to restore the lost power. It was estimated to take a couple of days or less.

So, we headed to the commissary and bought the last available bottled water. After a while, we decided there was nothing to do but go on a bike ride to hit all our favorite stops.

That evening, the first cockroach was spotted in the bathroom. It was slow-moving, as would be those that followed. It appeared as if the place had been sprayed heavily to keep them at bay, but either time or the storm stirred them.

In the next few days, they ventured from the bathroom and grew in numbers and quickness. Every discovery came with a shriek, “Cock Roach!”

We secured and sealed our food supply and went about our vacation, as there was nothing else we could do. On the last night, power was restored. My daughter read her cousin a book sitting in a recliner. They lept so high they nearly hit the ceiling fan. A cock roach had climbed across their skin.

We made sure that every piece of everything being packed into the cars the next morning was opened and every crevice searched. A car approached, stopped, and observed us. I think it was the owners coming to check on us. When they gathered what we were doing, they turned around and left, not wanting to deal with the thoughts behind our dead-eye looks.

By Frank Rocco Satullo, The OhioTraveler, Your Tour Guide to Fun! 

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“Wrong Turns Write Life”

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