Certain Man’s Wife Braves the Storm

Now it came to pass that the fair state of Delaware has endured a very dry spring. And Certain Man’s Wife has prayed earnestly for the Lord to send rain upon the land, for she remembers the days of her father’s prayers when the land was dry. And she remembers that often the Lord would heed his prayers and send the rain in a timely fashion. So, over the past weeks, it has been a frequent request of CMW. In fact, there was a time that she hung laundry out on a starry night by the light of the moon and said, “Lord, you know how much we need rain, and I would be willing to take this laundry in tomorrow morning and have to dry it inside if you would just send rain tonight.” That prayer was not effective. Perhaps the Heavenly Father perceived a lack of faith.

But this past weekend was the NASCAR Race at Dover Downs. And, seriously, it usually rains on race weekend. This is unfortunate, really, because it is also the weekend of the Greenwood Mennonite School Festival, and it seems to get rained on more than it doesn’t – either in the setting up or the actual day or the taking down thereof.

So, sure enough, the forecast was for rain. Heavy rain, in fact, and it was supposed to come on Thursday evening, Friday afternoon and even scattered showers on Saturday. The honorable weather forecaster even took pains to say that there could be heavy downpours on Friday evening, causing the postponement of some graduations and some graduation parties.

Now Middle Daughter had agreed to manage the book booth at the festival, and for the past several weeks, there had been telephone calls, and visitors and organizational things to deal with in preparation for the big day. There had even been cars, sneaking surreptitiously into the driveway and boxes of books delivered quietly with the donor’s speeding away without disclosing their identities. And Middle Daughter worked feverishly to categorize and box all of the books into some sort of order. At the back of her mind was always the threat of rain and what she was going to do if there was a bad storm. The tents provided for the different booths at the festival were not exactly noted for their protection from a stormy blast.

And when everything was tallied up on Friday afternoon, there were 50 some boxes of books all together, and she needed to get everything into one spot at the festival grounds for setting up “her” booth. So she called upon the general labor force available to her, namely Eldest Daughter and Beloved Son in Law, Youngest Daughter, Certain Man, and the brothers of BSL, Joel and Caleb.

In the mean time, Certain Man’s Wife was cleaning her house in preparation for the coming Lord’s Day when CM and CMW’s household was the designated Host Family for the day. Then sometime in the afternoon, Eldest Daughter called and asked if CMW would like to go help wash vegetables at Friend Ethel’s house when Middle Daughter was finished with their services at the book booth. And CMW thought that would be a good diversion. She wanted to see her friend, and she hoped for a break in the tiring work. So they set 6:30 as a time to meet.

When Eldest Daughter and BSL stopped in on their way to help carry books, CMW was on the floor with a screw driver, trying to fix a dressing table bin that wasn’t behaving to her satisfaction. Beloved Son in Law came into the laundry room, and looked a bit disconcertedly at her unusually prone situation.

“Uh, Mom,” he said worriedly. “Are you alright?”

“Yep, I’m fine. I’m just taking these screws out so I can take this bin off, so I can get whatever fell behind it that is keeping it from shutting right.”

“Oh. Well. Uh. Did Dad say anything to you about this soccer movie that we wanted to take Youngest Daughter to?”

“I think I did hear something about it. Why?”

“Well, I checked around and I checked around and I thought that it wouldn’t be anywhere close where we could go and see it, but I found out that it is going to be in Chestertown, and there is going to be a 9:30 showing, and I thought maybe we could go over there and see it if you thought it would be okay. I know it is an hour over there, and it will be really late when we get home, but I am afraid that it will be our only chance to go see it since it isn’t doing very well and I am afraid they will cancel the showings.”

Now Beloved Son in Law and Youngest Daughter share a passion for soccer that is unmatched within the family circles. And CMW does not find such things appealing at all, but knows that this something that is important for some reason to these two. So from her disadvantaged position on the floor, she said that she would see what Certain Man thought and she would let them know something. So off the troops went to the festival grounds to set up.

And the rain poured down, and things were somewhat “iffy” for a while, but eventually, the books got gathered into one spot, the vegetables got washed and CMW and Eldest Daughter returned home so that Youngest Daughter and Eldest Daughter and Beloved Son in Law could sally forth to Chestertown. (Which they did.) Thankfully, the rain had abated somewhat, and it was looking more favorable for the next day’s activities.

Certain Man’s Wife was taking a quiet break at home when suddenly, the heavens opened and the rain poured down with unbelievable volume. The lightening was flashing and the thunder was crashing, and it was a magnificent storm. Haste was made to unplug the electronics to protect them from power surges, and CMW was thinking how thankful she was for the safety of her house, while worrying about the safety of Certain Man who was in the chicken house, when the phone rang. Middle Daughter picked it up from the safety of her la-Z-boy rocker. It was Eldest Daughter. On her way to Chestertown.

“Is it raining there?” She asked anxiously.

“Uh, Yeah!!” Said Middle Daughter. “Like buckets and buckets.”

“Well, could someone go down to my house and shut the windows and turn off the exhaust fan? I left windows open and the fan on.”

“Christina, it is raining terribly hard! Couldn’t someone from Jess’s family go shut your windows?” (They live across from them on the same road.)

“I know, but Jesse’s family doesn’t have a car at this present moment and Mom and Dad could drive their van right into the garage and not need to get out in the rain.”

This information was duly passed on to CMW who mostly only heard the “I left the windows open” part of the message.

“Just tell her that I will go on up and take care of it,” she said to Middle Daughter. “And tell her that I am going right away.” Which she proceeded to do. She flew out to the mini van and backed out of the garage. The van was immediately struck by the full fury of the storm. It was some of the worst rain that CMW has ever driven in. She planned her strategy as she made her way the mile and a half to Eldest Daughter’s house. Some months ago, she had programmed the garage door opener for Eldest Daughter’s house into the buttons on the ceiling of her mini-van. She had done this over Eldest Daughter’s initial objection, but had convinced her that it would come in handy for all concerned. She couldn’t help but think that this was one of those times. She also couldn’t help but wonder if being “right” was all that wonderful at this particular time.

All the way to Eldest Daughter’s house, the wind blew sheets and sheets of water across the road. There were places where the road was flooded and she had to go very, very slowly. She heard the belt start to squeal the way it always does when it gets wet and then remembered that she had brought neither cell phone nor umbrella with her. What if she got stranded in one of these oceans of water? Oh, well, she might just as well forge ahead. She was almost there.

The driveway loomed ahead of her, and she pulled gratefully into the small shelter made by the overhanging garage roof. She reached up and pushed the button. Nothing happened. The door didn’t even lurch. She pushed it again. Nothing. She pushed and held it. And then she pulled up close enough to the door that her van was almost nosing into it. Nothing happened. So she backed up and came in at a different angle. It didn’t budge. And then, suddenly, all the lights went out. The power to the house was off.

Certain Man’s Wife sat in the dry warmth of her van and looked at the rain pouring off the roof and onto the hood of her car. She thought about going home again and just forgetting the whole mess. She looked down at her sandals and cotton dress and dreaded the thought of getting out of the car and trying the small garage door, but knew that she had no choice. So she mustered up her courage and made a dash for it. The rain dripped down her neck as she darted to the door. It was locked.

She was almost sure that she could get in if she went around back, but that looked like it was a half a mile away. Then she remembered the driving rain and the open windows, so she gathered her courage about her once more and made a run for it. Around the front of the garage, to the side of the garage she slipped and splashed. The ground was squishy and the water came up over her sandals. As she came around the back of the garage, there was sudden, bright lightening.

“If I get struck by lightening out here,” she thought grimly, “someone is going to be sorry!” She made the final plunge to the door of the screened in porch just as the thunder broke around her head and she came breathlessly out of the wind and rain into the shelter of the porch.

“Ah, yes!” The sliding glass door was slightly ajar. She could get into the house.

But now there was another problem. The electric was off. It was dark outside. And it was pitch black in there. (To quote Laurel from a “Laurel and Hardy” movie, “It was so pitch, you couldn’t see your hand behind your face!”) Certain Man’s wife tried to feel her way around to find a candle or a match or a flashlight. There was absolutely nothing to be found. She felt like a blind woman along the edge of the counter, over to the microwave. Pat, pat, pat. What was this? Oh, a pencil. And this was this and that was that, but not a solitary helpful thing. Finally, CMW decided that she would need to look hard everytime the lightening struck and pounce on whatever she needed when she had a brief illumination. But all of the things that were illuminated did not help her a bit to shed light in the dark.

So she felt around and closed the kitchen window, and then started back the hall. One of the things that was concerning her most was the exhaust fan. She felt like she had to make sure that it was turned off if all the windows were going to be closed. If the electric came back on, and the windows were closed, she was afraid it would burn up the fan motor. But the control was so obscure that she couldn’t figure it out. Maybe there would be something on the bathroom sink to help her. She patted her way into the hall bathroom, and felt around on the sink in there. There were soap dispensers and pretty baskets holding supplies for guests, but no candles and no matches. She felt around on the cupboard shelves. Nothing there either. She went into the study; there was the computer. She frisked it and the CD’s around it. Nothing. She shut the windows which were slightly damp, and went on to the Master bedroom. There wasn’t a single romantic candle there or matches, either, so she shuffled her way blindly into the Master bedroom bath. There was toothpaste and combs and such in there, and there was a cup. She patted the back of the toilet and opened the cupboard above it. There was nothing with which to light her way.

And then, it happened. Her foot inadvertently kicked the digital scale on the floor of the bathroom and it lit up like a Christmas tree. She looked at its neon green light but it quickly disappeared. She tapped it again, and it came on cheerily. Wait a minute. If she could just keep it on, maybe it would be a help. She picked it up and gave it a squeeze. It stayed on for a while and she held it up to the cupboard and surveyed the contents. There were no candles, matches or flashlights there. Then the light went out. She squeezed it again, but it didn’t light up.

“Oh, great! Probably the battery is out.” She squeezed it some more, and it wouldn’t come on. So she put it back down on the floor. It promptly lit up again.

“Okay. If I need to set you down in between times, I’ll just have to do it.” So down the hall she went. Set the scale down, on came the light. Pick it up, squeeze it, move down the hall. She finally got to the controls for fan and illuminated it enough to see to turn it off. By then, she was just anxious to get on out of this dark, dark cave and home to the safety of her own house where a generator would be lighting the dark. So she set that scales down in the hall bathroom and made a quick exit though the dark dining room, kitchen, laundry room and into the garage where her van lights were providing a bit of comforting glow.

She went out of the small garage door, locking it behind her and made a quick dash to her van. The rain had abated a little, and her drive home was uneventful other than wet. But she had conquered the windows and the fan, and the rest of the problem would be Eldest Daughter’s to cope with when she got home.

And that is the news from Shady Acres where CMW came home to find that Certain Man had also braved the storm to close the doors on the chicken house. Behold, he had fared even worse than she had. So the comforts of the big old farmhouse on Shawnee Road were welcome indeed.