Bricks
Release
Date: 02/03/15
Summary
from Goodreads:
Sixteen-year old Cori Reigns learns that
not all tornadoes take you to magical places. Some take your house, your
school, and life as you knew it. Struggling to put the pieces of her life back
together, Cori learns to rebuild what the storm destroyed by trusting family
she didn't know she had and helping friends she never appreciated.
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In
the eerie glow from the lantern, I sat in a ball with Slim’s long arms wrapped
around me. Only our synchronized breathing and the drum of my heartbeat
disturbed the silence.
The
pizza boy screamed as the TV flew upward. We ducked, and it slammed into the
locked steel door. A roar like a jet-powered locomotive swept over us. Wind
raged through a crack in the rattling door like the screech and cackle of a
tempest-tossed witch, fluttering the lantern’s light. Slim caught the set as it
dropped. The cord flopped at my feet, severed like it’d been bitten by a wild
animal.
Mr.
Hawkins mumbled. Mrs. Lassiter spoke to Jesus. The Mangino’s driver sat near
me, his rocking horse motion powered by gentle sobs. I forced my hand to stop
shaking long enough to reach around Slim and squeeze the boy’s hand in mine.
Mrs. Lassiter always said there are no atheists in foxholes. There are no
strangers either.
My
heart passed the next few minutes of external silence by banging like a
sledgehammer against my ribcage. Finally, Mrs. Lassiter slid past us. “Would
you mind giving me a hand, young man?”
She
had to be talking to Slim. The Mangino’s guy was still a sobbing mess.
“You
okay?” he asked me.
I
think I nodded.
At
the top of the steps, the metal latch clanged. Then a grunt and a shard of
light.
The
sounds repeated.
“I
can’t get it open,” Slim said. “It must be jammed.”
My
sledgehammer heart banged louder.
“Not
jammed,” Mrs. Lassiter told him. “Blocked.”
And
louder.
Crazy
thoughts and images raced through my mind. The tiny enclosure seemed to have
suddenly shrunk by half. I couldn’t take it any longer. Being trapped in a tiny
underground bunker that smelled of perspiration and pepperoni made me want to
puke. I squeezed the pizza guy’s hand a final time and pushed to the top of the
steps to wedge myself between Slim and Mrs. Lassiter. No one objected. It
wouldn’t have mattered.
I
didn’t wait for three. I threw my shoulder into the metal door, and it slowly
creaked upward—six inches, a foot. With both feet on the steps and our
shoulders against the door, we pressed upward to provide more leverage.
“A
little more,” Mrs. Lassiter said. “There.” She extended the metal bar to hold
the door open. My shoulders relaxed as the brace clicked into place. I rubbed
my arm and stepped into the eerie gray light.
About the Author
Married to my bride for twenty-four years, I have an amazing
son and a wonderful daughter.
Born and raised in central Oklahoma, I work in education,
first as a teacher now in technology curriculum. I write. I read. And in the
summer I make snow cones.
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