What The Storm Brought Us

Who was it who said, ‘You can’t go home again?’

I never understood the saying in the slightest. Then again… I had always been home. Even in college, I was a 45-minute drive from home. Not until I was 23, did I move away.

Got a job. Five hour drive from my parents according to most GPS. Four hours and 40 minutes the way I drive. That’s actually being away from home.

Worked at my job. Learned a new city. Made some friends. Got a promotion at my job. Got a nameplate for my desk reading, ‘Hayley.’ Three months passed before I told anyone it was spelled, ‘Haley.’ Met a guy. Got into a relationship. Got serious… fairly serious… nine-months-level-of-serious. Had it broken up. Had my heart broken up.

And now I’m visiting home, standing on the front porch of my parent’s place. I had visited home a total of four times in the span I lived a speedy four hours and 40 minutes away. And sure, it’s strange to visit a place you used to live. But hardly. But this time… I felt it.

My apartment littered with memories of that asshole no longer felt like my new home I had carefully cultivated and decorated. I returned home to visit my parents, my brothers, any stray friends that may still be around town. But it wasn’t home. It was a semi-warped and empty painting that was supposed to resemble a place I once lived. Someone scanned my memories for images of my home and reconstructed it without context.

I stared out into the front yard that hadn’t changed. But did it always look like this? Was it always this lackluster? Was the grass always so patchy? Was there always these large, menacing trees? In our yard… in the neighbor’s yard 100 yards away? At least this pouring rain should help out those patches where grass seldom grows.

Lightning flashes in the sky. I sip my Mom’s lemonade. Even the lemonade tastes a little… weaker than usual? Thunder rumbles. That was three seconds between thunder and lightning. According to a National Geographic show I once hardly paid attention to… three seconds of separation means the lightning is about three miles away. As the rain pours down harder, I recall my past calculations. The last time was five seconds. The time before that was seven. This storm is moving closer–

A deafening crack through the sky startles me as bright light flashes and my heart bounces off my sternum. A separate and slower cracking now… wood cracking. A giant tree in the front yard is tipping over. It crashes, the porch rumbles beneath my feet. A screech pierces my ears and I drop the weak lemonade. My Mom, Dad and brother Ryan, sprint out onto the covered porch with me.

“Are you alright?!” My Dad grabs me by the shoulders and examines me, as if getting struck by lightning wouldn’t be obvious without careful examination.

I nod stupidly and then we hear another horrible screech. Ryan points to the tree.

“Mom, an owl!” Ryan screams. Without hesitation, Ryan and my Mom run towards the tree. My Dad stays with me, holding me close.

Ryan lifts up a branch and my Mom reaches underneath and grabs a barn owl that was pinned to the ground. They sprint back, already soaking wet. My Mom examines the owl, it’s flat face looks fine, other than wide open eyes. Then again, barn owls may always look like this. My Mom finds a couple gashes in its skin. As she touches them the owl screeches and winces.

“Ooh, we better act fast, Ryan.” My Mom nods to the front door. Ryan whips it open, allowing my Mom to rush inside, owl in hand. Ryan follows close behind. My Dad and I start towards the door.

“Careful Judy!” He calls out to her. “You haven’t worked with an owl before! You don’t know how it might react!”

Inside the kitchen, I feel very much like a nurse. The island has become her operating table. Me, Ryan and Dad assist her as she disinfects the owl’s wounds and patches them up. It’s amazing to watch her in action. A true hero.

“Haley, can you get Max’s old cage from the basement?” She asks while she puts the finishing touches on the owl.

“You still have that thing?” A cage my Mom kept and never used for 12 years. At least it’ll be put to use now.

*******

It’s 7:00 A.M. I’m up as if an alarm clock went off. But I’m not a psychopath, I don’t set alarms for 7:00 A.M. when I’m on vacation. I am just used to my routine. I head downstairs to see if anyone has turned the coffee machine on yet. As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I see Ryan asleep on the couch. The last stair is a creaky one and Ryan shoots up immediately.

“Why are you sleeping down here?” I manage to utter through my dry, morning throat.

“That owl kept staring at me.” He responds with eyes wider than anyone should have before the sun has fully risen.

“Owls are nocturnal.” I explain as I head into the kitchen. Thank the Lord… or whoever brewed coffee! I begin pouring a cup and Ryan is right on my heels.

“Why don’t we put it in your room tonight?” He suggests.

“No thanks, the vacation I booked is not for a petting zoo. I will be spending my time here alone in my room. Anyway, it’s in a cage. What do you think it’s going to do to you?”

Ryan looks down embarrassed.

“You ran out there last night all confident, now you can’t be in the same room as a caged owl?” I’m cracking a smile, realizing Ryan is never courageous or confident or bold. He’s only 16, but still, most teenagers are more courageous than him. From what I’ve seen of him. Not that we aren’t close. But as a sister nine years older than your ‘Oops Baby’ brother, there aren’t a ton of opportunities presented for quality hang out time.

“There’s just something about it. It’s scary. It has this… way about it. Like it’s… studying me.”

The rest of the day is uneventful. Mom and Dad take the day off from work to spend time with me. Watch some TV together. Mom changes the owl’s bandages. I hang back in Ryan’s room with him for a moment to see how ‘scary’ this owl really is. Seems harmless.

“Of course, he isn’t doing anything now.” Ryan is annoyed that in the light of day the owl seems normal… and groggy.

I snort and nudge him with my elbow. He looks back to the owl, it’s eyes closing. Behind the owl, out the window, a direct shot of the neighbor’s house. The girl who lives there, Silvia, is outside watering flowers. Ryan’s gaze gets locked on her as he watches her bending over with the watering can.

“Want a little privacy?” I ask jokingly. Ryan snaps out of his gaze and gets embarrassed.

“Oh no, I– I just thought I saw something…” He fumbles through his words.

“Yeah, I know what you saw.” I chuckle. “It’s Silvia, right? Isn’t she in some of your classes?”

Ryan nods.

“You ever talk to her?” I barely finish asking before the owl’s eyes shoot open and it screeches at us!

We both jump back. It stares at us with inquisitive eyes, not blinking. It’s head cocks to one side. It’s eyes penetrate through me. I begin to feel uncomfortable. “Uh, maybe we should let the owl sleep.”

“Told you it was freaky!” Ryan eagerly ushers me out of his room.

*******

I sit out on the porch, surveying the damage from the storm. It rolled through, created chaos, then left us in its destructive wake. The giant tree still snapped in half in the yard. Fallen branches and trees littering the rest of the yard and scattered all along the way up to Silvia’s house. She’s outside with her Mom and Dad collecting branches and tossing them in a wheelbarrow. I watch them in their physical labor while I sip a beer. I start to feel guilty… and lazy. “Whatever,” I tell the annoying side of my brain. “I’m on vacation. And I’m going through enough right now. I deserve a break.”

My Dad steps out onto the porch with a glass of bourbon. He has a whole cabinet full of bottles. He swishes the golden brown liquid in his patented clockwise swirl. The singular ice cube clinks against the glass.

“Your Mom and Ryan are changing the bandages on Hooty.” Dad smirks at his funny name for the owl. “Ryan is scared of that thing.”

“It is a little freaky. Have you spent time alone with it?” I ask.

“Owls often represent courage or independent thinking in literature.” He puts simply.

“Mmhmm.” I was never too big on symbolism. But I’ll entertain it. “I’ve heard about them being tied with supernatural tones.”

My Dad looks at me curiously. His eyes open with a look of true presence.

“Ghosts… even aliens… as if they’re alien to this world themselves.” I continue. “I forget where I heard this, but if you think about it, they don’t look like any other birds on this planet really. It’s like they’re an alien-version of Earth’s birds… as if they came over with aliens and stayed.”

“Which would suggest aliens came here and stayed.” My Dad contributes, then continues. “I never heard that. I’ve read many good things being associated with owls. Wisdom being another common one.”

“Yeah, but how much stock can we really put into symbolism?” I ask. My Dad listens intently. “Just because someone wrote something a long time ago, whatever they decided owls represented… now that’s the truth?”

“Fantastic point.” Another sip of Bourbon before my Dad continues. “There are other connotations from other corners of the literature world… bad connotations. Evil ones. The owl… a bad omen. A bird in the darkness… is a bird from darkness.”

The ice cubes clink in his glass. Chills run down my spine, either from his icy words or his icy drink permeating through glass and through air.

The front door whips open.

My Mom is there with a small suitcase.

“But if it’s just symbolism in literature, then that’s all it is.” My Dad says lightly. He downs the rest of his drink and heads inside.

“We’ll be gone for two nights.” My Mom fills me in on the plan again. “The owl should be good with his bandages until we’re back, but if they need to be changed again, Ryan knows how. Those cuts won’t heal for another couple weeks, so please pay attention. Anyway, call us if you need anything.”

My Dad exits the front door with a small suitcase of his own.

“You’re driving,” He tells her as he tucks the car keys into her hand.

“I know, I have a nose.” She grins. They load the car up, Ryan joins me on the front porch and we watch them, waving like two sad children as they motor off down the road.

As the car finally leaves our sight, a sharp shriek from upstairs in the house. And then silence. We stay glued to the front porch.

*******

It’s afternoon. Only Ryan and I here. We stand just outside the doorway to his room, staring in at the owl. The owl stares back at us. I know Dad calls him Hooty because it’s an adorable name… but I’m not getting Hooty vibes from this guy. I don’t ‘only wanna be with you’ dude… so sorry.

But every once in a while, he blinks softly and looks innocent. And then there’s the compassion I have for all animals, taught to me by my Mom. He’s just an animal. A living being. Living his life. He wants food, shelter, happiness… for trees to not fall on him. And in all honesty, he looks fantastic for a bird that just had the injuries that he had. Standing with great posture in the cage… but looking like he’s getting sleepy. I let my guard down for a moment, the owl blinks again, and then there’s that look again.

Ryan and I both feel it simultaneously. We back away as if this bird isn’t in a cage.

“Put the blanket over his cage.” Ryan shoves me forward.

“You do it, I gave him his food already.” I shove him harder and he stumbles into his room. He grabs a dark blanket and cautiously lays it over the cage. As he does, the owl never moves, but I can’t help but feel an uncomfortable aura radiating from this bird. A relieved sigh emanates from within the cage once it’s covered. Out the window, movement catches our eyes. It’s Silvia. She’s trekking across the football field of separation between our houses… coming right towards our place… eyes looking up at Ryan’s window.

Ryan slides to the side, as if he is hiding from someone who just caught him doing something wrong.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I didn’t want it to seem like I was… staring.” He responds.

“Do you stare?” I ask in earnest. It’s tough, the years of separation between the two of us, I don’t know Ryan really well. I know he’s painfully shy. To the point he will not speak any words to a girl if he likes her. He’s never had a girlfriend. He’s gone on one date and that was a double date. I want him to break out of his shell. Both of them. Break out of at least one of your shells, Ryan. I want him to not be that kid who’s silent and won’t speak up for what he wants. I want him to not be that kid who watches what he wants and hopes it comes to him. He needs to know, you have to go and get what you want… or at least try… even if everything comes crashing down around you… at least you tried.

A sharp knocking at the door has us both jump out of our skin, our shoes, our socks, and anything else worth jumping out of.

As if we’ve done something wrong, we open the front door together, huddled close. It’s Silvia.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Silvia asks cheerfully.

“You knock like a cop.” Is all Ryan has to say. The immediate look of regret washes over his face. Hard to read in detail. Did he regret sounding like a jerk with such a jerky comment just now? Or did he intend for that to be funny and regrets his accidental stern tone? Either way… regret… slathered across his face.

“Okay.” Silvia says with a chuckle. Ryan is lucky, she still somehow took it as a joke. “I was wondering what you guys were up to today. I’m bored and wanted to go out and do something.”

I’m now stealing some of my Dad’s bourbon as Ryan sits with Silvia uncomfortably on the couch. It’s not really stealing, I’m his daughter. And it’s just enough to fill a water bottle halfway up. I’m pouring a couple ounces from several different bottles. That way none of them look depleted and Dad won’t notice. This is probably something he thinks of as Bourbon-Blasphemy… mixing Maker’s, Elijah, Beam, Knob and Larceny together… but to me, it’s all brown liquor. I chuckle to myself, realizing the irony that the last bottle I pour is Larceny.

I rejoin Silvia and Nervous Ryan and nudge him to remind him to act normally.

“Alright, let’s head to this cave.” I announce.

“What’s that?” Silvia nods at my water bottle.

“Just some tea.”

“I’m parched, can I get a sip?” Ryan reaches for the bottle but I pull it away.

“You’ll bring your own drink, fool.” I say sternly. “This is my probiotic tea, I have to drink a certain amount every day. Doctor’s orders.”

That’s right, Doctor Haley. Prescribed lots of this particular tea ever since that breakup.

*******

Silvia has taken us on a long, relaxing hike through the woods. The fresh air I’m taking in through my lungs, the nature I’m taking in through my eyes… pairs well with the bourbon I’m taking in, down my throat. The wake of the recent lightning storm is still present. I oddly enjoy looking at the destruction. Branches everywhere, fallen trees… or is it felled trees? I think I’ve heard my Dad say that. When he is speaking in… literature. Damn, this bourbon is strong. Not sure which of the five is hitting me hardest.

“Here it is!” Silvia calls out. She points ahead at the cave. And she was right… a cave that was previously unable to be entered. The entrance completely blocked off with a wooden door, built by locals to keep kids from going inside and getting injured. But then it created more mystique about the cave because it looks like some giant troll made this his home and fashioned a nine foot tall wooden door that belonged in the front of a 17th century castle.

However, after all the destruction, a big chunk of the roof of this cave was broken off. A human-sized hole now there. Maybe lightning struck it. Silvia, having the confidence of two people, perhaps having siphoned all confidence Ryan ever had, starts climbing the cave. Ryan stands at the base of the cave. I stand next to him, warm Bourbon washing over me.

“Come on, guys! Let’s go in!” Silvia is already standing next to the hole.

I take another sip of my Five Bourbon Blend and shake my head no. Ryan mimics me.

“What was the point of coming if we weren’t going to go in?” Silvia asks very pointedly.

“To just… to just see it.” Ryan answers, much less pointedly.

“You’re scared to go in?!” Silvia yells.

“No, I just– we could get hurt.” Ryan answers meekly.

“I’m not getting dirty.” I say plainly… even though I’m more concerned with the danger aspect. Sure, I may be lacking confidence just like Ryan, but at least I can hide it.

“Fine!” Silvia laughs. “I just wanted to go in and find this thing that people were talking about online anyway. I’ll be quick.”

And in she goes! Without hesitation she leaps through the hole and disappears. What’s this kid, moonlighting as a firefighter? Did she sneak a sip of this liquid confidence I’m swigging? Ryan looks to me bewildered. I shrug.

Silvia was right. She was quick. Only a few minutes had passed and she was already scrambling to climb back out of the hole. Ryan had just gotten on top of the cave as she began to emerge and he quickly helped her out of the hole… suggestion by me. He can earn points with her even though he denies he needs or wants them.

Ryan helps Silvia onto the ground and I can see in her eyes, that look. She stares at Ryan with those eyes… those eyes What’s-His-Name used to have for me. Those eyes I used to have for him. Of course, I couldn’t see my own eyes… but you can feel when you’re giving those eyes to someone. Ryan’s cheeks flush red. He smiles nervously and for the first time on this hike I see a sense of nervousness from Silvia as well.

She holds her hand out. In it, a metallic, red stone, gleaming in the setting sunlight. It’s beautiful.

“What is that?” Ryan asks.

“I don’t know.” Silvia responds. “But this is what people were saying they found in the cave. No one could remove it from the wall. But I had a couple tools no one thought to bring.”

Silvia reveals a lighter and a small multi-tool in her other hand and then tucks them away in her pocket. Who is this girl?

“Are you sure you should’ve removed it?” Ryan asks as he gazes at this wondrous and mysterious object. The red drained from his face, perhaps extracted into this… glowing rock?

“I don’t think it belonged to anyone.” Silvia laughs and playfully shoves Ryan. He snaps out of it and laughs too. “Come on, it’s starting to get dark. We should get back.”

*******

I’m watching TV, still enjoying the bourbon. It’s close to midnight. I’ve been quite relaxed the past few hours. Until Ryan stampedes down the stairs with a book in hand.

“Come look at the owl!”

I’m astonished as I stand opposite the owl’s cage with Ryan. Just like he explained. The gashes on the owl… completely gone… healed. The cuts that were supposed to take weeks to heal, already vanished.

“I’m not staying in this room with this black magic bird!” Ryan says seriously, even though the verbage was kind of hilarious. “I’m reading out on the back deck!”

I returned to the living room to watch TV after closing Ryan’s bedroom door securely. The owl is freaking me out too. Ryan ran out of the house before I could even say anything. I assume he’s on the back deck since there’s a light out there.

A half an hour passes before chaotic screeching comes from Ryan’s room. And it must’ve been the liquid courage finally releasing into my blood, but I instinctively mosey up the stairs towards the frightening sounds. When I enter Ryan’s room, the owl is facing out the window, intently watching something. The owl is now calm and beckons me closer with his eyes. I move closer. I peer out the window.

It’s dark out… hard to see anything. After a bit of focusing… movement. 20 feet up in one of the trees outside Silvia’s home. In fact, the movement is on a branch just outside of Silvia’s bedroom window. A figure. I see arms, legs, something squatting in a branch. Peering into Silvia’s bedroom… the light on brightly in her room. I see her pass by in the window, getting ready for bed.

Oh my God… Ryan… tell me that’s not you in the tree. I know you’re too nervous to talk to her, Ryan… but please. If that’s you in that tree, I’m going to have to go get you out. This is not the way.

A hand falls on my shoulder heavily. I spin around defensively.

There stands Ryan.

“What’s Hooty screaming about now?” He asks with concern.

I point out the window. Ryan squints and peers outside. Takes his time focusing. And then he sees it. We both see it clearly. That has to be a person in that tree!

“Is that–” and before Ryan can finish his question, the figure jumps from the branch and grabs onto the windowsill! Now hanging from it! We now see the full figure. Human-like, sure. But shorter and stouter, head larger than usual. Not wearing any clothing. Silvia opens the window with confusion. The figure grabs her and pulls her out of the window. They fall from the second story and land into bushes below!

Without saying a word, Ryan bolts out of his room. I look to my bottle of bourbon. I was going to savor these last few sips, but I need them all right now. I throw the bottle back. The owl screeches. I dash out of the room and follow Ryan thumping through the house, out the front door and across the football field of grass that separates us from Silvia’s house.

As I follow Ryan across the grass, I see the figure get up from the ground. I see Silvia pulling herself up, stumbling, clutching her arm. The figure dashes off with uncanny speed and disappears… not even into coverage… but just suddenly.

Ryan rushes up to Silvia who is in tears, moaning about her arm. She thinks it’s broken. Ryan holds her. He asks if her parents are home. They’re not. She’s home alone.

I finally make my way up to them. Before I can say a word, footsteps thunder past us rapidly. The footsteps recede and vanish. Quiet.

Then, they thunder towards us, a shadowy figure dashing past us and clipping my shoulder, knocking me down.

“What the hell is that?!” Silvia screams through tears.

“Who are you?!” Ryan puts on his most confident voice. “Leave us alone! We’re calling the cops!”

I pull myself up. The figure comes dashing out of the darkness once again, sprinting towards me. I only have time to make out flailing limbs, two faint specks of white on this figure’s face, and a snarl as it hurls itself towards me. Ryan jumps in front and throws his shoulder towards the thing. They collide and both are flung to the ground.

The figure immediately scrambles to its feet and dashes off.

“Ryan!” Silvia screams for him, frightened out of her mind, arm hanging at her side. Ryan rushes to her and holds her. Silence. Nothing.

And then a horrid screeching. Worse than we’ve heard. It won’t stop. I look to our house, and the barn owl is staring out the window, rocking violently back and forth in its cage.

It’s looking right at me.

I don’t know what comes over me. The bourbon. The stare from the owl beckoning me. But I push off my back foot and sprint back towards the house.

I run faster than I have ever run in my life. Every thought, every memory in my life, left behind in my wake. I’m operating as a machine with programmed instinct. One function. One purpose. And I don’t even know the why. I just know the what.

Run to the front door. Fling it open. Prop the door open with a chair. Dart towards Ryan’s room. Hands on the owl’s cage.

And then it stops screeching. It looks at me once more, silently.

“Okay.” I open the cage. The owl flies out of the room. I follow it as best as I can. It knows it’s way out of the house, soaring right out the front door.

As I make my way outside the owl has circled high into the air. I see the figure emerge from the shadows. Before I can call out, it rushes at Ryan and Silvia, barging into them, knocking them over. It scoops Silvia up and holds her, arms wrapped around her, menacing stance. A hand gripping her throat. She tries screaming, it comes out warbled.

I sprint towards them. Ryan pulls himself off the dirt. A shrill screech through the sky freezes us all in our tracks.

The owl reappears in the sky and swoops into Silvia’s open window. Three seconds pass and then it flies back out of the window, something red flashing on its beak. It soars towards the tree, circles back around and dives right towards the figure holding Silvia.

The owl veers away from the figure and flutters down towards the ground, landing 10 feet away. The figure still grips Silvia harshly. She’s panicked, trying to wiggle free. Ryan and I are frozen in our places.

The owl drops something from its beak. The red stone. The figure bellows a low moan. Silvia freezes in its arms. The owl screeches in response. The figure snarls monstrously. The owl screeches with deafening volume once… twice. A low and exasperated growl from the figure. Another deafening screech from the owl as it stands firmly, staring up at the figure. The figure gazes at the gleaming red stone.

The figure turns and leers into Silvia’s eyes. It tosses her to the side like a rag doll and calmly walks towards the owl, bends down and scoops up its shining red keepsake.

A deep blue cloud sails across the sky faster than clouds typically move, fleeting in front of the moon. The moonlight rapidly disappears, leaving us in dark and confusion.

I try to adjust my eyes as I hear a commotion, leaves rustling, things moving. A whoosh of air past my head. The cloud quickly soars its way past the moon, moonlight returned to us. And as my eyes readjust, I only see Ryan holding Silvia. I scan my surroundings. Nothing else.

Ryan walks Silvia towards me.

“Let’s get her inside and call 911. Her arm’s broken.” Ryan speaks as confidently as if he’s done this a million times.

I follow my little brother. No, I follow this courageous man… who happens to be my brother.

“Thank you Ryan.” I hear sweetly from Silvia.

I continue to follow them, my pace much slower as I continue scanning the area, the skies above us, still in awe. Not sure what to take away from this moment in time. Not sure what this all means. If it means anything.

Lightning flashes. I count instinctively.

One, two, three. Silence. No thunder.

And then faintly, far away, a soft and singular screech pierces the night air.