Count to ten ...

Warning: This is the final dose of this medicine story. 

If you arrived unaware ... the story begins here. 

If you know how these stories play out, carry on ... 

It wasn't far to the first speed bump. The rain shot horizontal before they reached the old truck.
"There it is!" The boy shouted to be heard over the pelting rain. And then, the thunder. The man nodded but was counting in his head, "One, two, three ..." Lightening didn't usually hit the ground around here. He was thinking that too. But tonight was a time of unusuals and four didn't come before the blaze struck. It was close-by.

The forest and the parallel flow of rain created something. Something the boy would never forget, and the man hoped would bring her back. There are portals that open easily given the right set of wishes. Yes. Wishes work for many reasons. One of the best reasons of all has to do with putting all your goodness into believing. Parallel rain made during wishing has nothing to do with what Humans wish for, and everything to do with how Elements simply are. Mixing and Muddling, things were primed. The portal opened. WOOP.

"Where'd it go? Daniel, the truck. Where'd it go?"
"I'm not sure Pat, but, we need to turn this truck around. This storm's too big to mess with." Daniel Ornellas was mostly talking with one hand the other hand gripped the wheel. Outside the wind buffeted with ferocity. The truck rocked. The trees bent too close to the ground.
"Count to ten Pat. Keep track of that storm." Pat O'Neil had learned about counting between the thunder and lightning. His mom had taught him when he was a little kid.

Oh the Invisibles watched from their places, poised to consider their next steps. They listened.

"One, two," Lightning. Closer still, the Storm was almost directly upon them. The gravel road ran thick with a new gully of rain. Downed limbs the size of arms.
"Pat. Unbuckle your seat belt, and get down on the floor. Sounds weird. But ... please just do it okay." The wind was pitching, and though they were close to home, close was sometimes not near enough. Pat did as told. "Tuck under that glove box." Daniel reached down, slowed the truck enough to pull on the release and slid the bench seat back. "Stay put, and keep your arms over your head!"

By the clock, Daniel and Pat were gone from the others less than ten minutes. The soup was still hot, and the pie still warm. Calypso was just getting ready to ladle soup when she saw the lights of Daniel's truck. "Thank the Goddess! They're back." Pat was the first one through the door. Daniel sat for a couple exhalations, then tried the remote to the garage door. It opened. The camp lanterns and 9 volt batteries lit up from the truck's headlights. He grabbed them, put them into an empty cardboard box. Dry rain gear hung on the hooks. He used them to cover the lanterns.

The storm wore the night like spandex. Tightening around everything that was grounded, the man thought he heard his wife. "You always loved me in spandex." Shaking is head, the carpenter opened the truck door, turned off the head lights, closed the door and headed for the cottage door. Something crossed his path just before he stepped inside. Lightning struck directly above. The long-haired cat watched from the porch, then stepped into the horizontal.

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