Young man and older neighbor are trapped in a storm cellar
The usual stuff. No one engaging in sex acts is under the age of consent. No STD's, unwanted pregnancies, or disapproving gossipers are allowed in my happily perverted little world.
Ryan Connor turned into the Andrew's farm driveway then parked his old junker next to the mobile home his mother and he lived in. He looked at the sky not liking the looks of the clouds. He decided he had better get a move on if he wanted to get a five mile run in before it started to rain. He changed into running shorts and a hoodie then did some stretches against the side of his car before starting out.
He turned onto the county road with his back to the angry looking clouds then quickly settled into his stride. Half a mile later a horn sounded behind him, he looked back to see Ned Andrews slowly pulling alongside him with his window down.
"Holy shit Ryan, you're going to get soaked, you better turn back now. Or did you want to ride into town with me? Just going to the feedstore, maybe a piece of pie at The Cupboard after that. Interested?"
"I am always interested in pie, Mr. Andrews but if I indulged as often as you do, I would be so huge I would lose my scholarship next fall," he said with a smile.
Ned Andrews laughed, he did like his pie but being 6' 1" and 140 pounds he claimed he had a hollow leg. "Suit yourself Ryan but seriously, you should turn back now. The sky is a funny color, kinda green, that means tornados sometimes."
"You're probably right, I'll just go another half mile, up to Ferguson's farm then turn around, see you later."
Ned waved then accelerated quickly. Ryan was true to his word, turning around in half a mile. The wind was in his face now, he hadn't realized how strong it was when it had been pushing him. He picked up the pace as much as he could. The sky was turning an odd green color, the clouds began moving in different directions before suddenly coming together in a funnel.
Holy shit, thought Ryan, a tornado was right in front of him. He couldn't tell how fast it was moving or what direction it was moving in, but he knew he was in trouble.
As he neared the farm he thought about his choices. He could try to reach the culvert that crossed the county road just past the driveway or he could head for the storm cellar attached to the back of the big farmhouse. He had almost decided to try to reach the culvert when he heard a gunshot. He looked around and saw Mrs. Andrews waving her arms to get his attention. One hand held the gun he had heard. He started toward her fighting the wind that was trying to push him sideways. He finally made it to the back of the house before stopping to catch his breath. Mrs. Andrews grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the open cellar door at the back of the house. He went down the steps then turned to help the woman down before going back up as he saw she was having a hard time trying to pull the door closed against the wind. It was a struggle, but they finally got it closed and latched from the inside.
It was dark as night in the cellar and much quieter than outside although they could still hear the wind roaring. Ryan wasn't sure what to do when Mrs. Andrews said, "Don't move son, I know where the flashlight is, hang on."
A flashlight beam soon swept across the room coming to rest on an old trestle table.
"Do you know how to work a Coleman lantern?" Dale Andrews asked.
"Sure, we used them when dad and I went camping. Won't take a minute Mrs. Andrews," he told her.
"You're eighteen now, right?" she asked. "That's too old to be calling me Mrs. Andrews. My first name is Dahlia, but never call me that. As you know, I go by Dale."
When the lantern was going, he hung it from a nail in the rafter above his head. He had never been down here before. He was surprised at how large it was. There was a double bed plus a set of bunk beds on one wall. Behind a partition was a chemical toilet. There was a 250-gallon water tank with a hand pump attached. In what passed for the kitchen was a large sturdy trestle table with six chairs around it. Four large bookcases held store bought and homemade canned goods. A four burner Coleman stove sat on the counter.
"Wow, this has all the comforts of home," he said.
"Yeah, it's well equipped, two people could live down here for a month if they had to," Dale agreed.
"Well, I never heard of a tornado lasting a month," he shouted.
Without realizing it the sound of the storm had risen so much it sounded like a freight train was roaring through the farmyard. They heard a loud sound like nails being pulled from a board then things began crashing into the back of the house. The banging noises stopped when the largest crash shook the house. Dale and Ryan held onto one another, both wondering if the tornado was going to destroy the house above them. In just a minute the roaring sound started to subside. Five minutes later things seemed to be back to normal. With a start Ryan realized he was still hugging Dale tightly. They pulled away from each other quickly, both a little embarrassed by the intimacy of the moment.
They could faintly hear that it was raining heavily outside. Dale said, "We should probably wait a while before opening the door. How about some coffee or hot chocolate?"
"Yeah, you're right, we should wait. Hot chocolate sounds amazing, I'll get the stove going," he offered.
As they sat enjoying their hot chocolate Dale said, "You know, you and I have never really talked. When your dad died, I was kind of in a daze. I'm sure it was much worse for you and your mom."
"Well, you don't expect to come home from school and find your dad crushed by a turned over tractor," he admitted.
"Jesus, that must have been terrible for you," she said laying a sympathetic hand on his arm.
"The worst part was having to tell mom when she got home. The sheriff had called the bank but all he said was that there had been an accident."
"I tried to comfort Maggie, but she didn't really want anything to do with Ned and I," she explained.
"Well, he was working for you, it was your tractor and all," he said a little defensively.
"I know, I know. We had a hard time convincing her that the trailer was hers for as long as you guys needed it."
"I think when I go to college in a couple of months, she will probably take a small place in town," Ryan told her.
"Might be for the best, it must be hard coming back to your memories every day. How about you, how do you cope?" Dale asked.
"By running mostly," he told her. "That has been a good thing actually, it made me a good enough runner to take state and get a scholarship to the college I wanted."
"Ned and I have talked about it, if you need money, or anything else in college we want to help you," she said seriously.
"Jeez, I appreciate that, with my grants and scholarship I should be good financially," he said.
"Well, don't be shy about asking, please, we don't want you to have to take any loans," Dale said patting his arm.
For some reason that small touch embarrassed Ryan. "Um, I should see about getting the doors open I suppose," he said hurriedly.
He slipped the bolts open then tried to push one of the doors open. It wouldn't budge, he tried again with no luck.
"Here, I'll give you a hand," Dale said.
They exerted all their strength but both doors refused to move at all.
"There's a kind of periscope in the corner," she said pointing. "It's just two mirrors in a long tube that shows what's in the back yard."
He moved over to it admiring the simple but very clever device. He looked into it but couldn't see anything. "I think maybe it's broken," he told her.
He stepped aside for her to have a look.
