Authors: Patrick McGhee
Perhaps, the kiss did not last as long as the description, but the timing of other events made it seem that way. At the precise moment that Norman’s tongue crossed Wally’s lips, Gina arrived at the door. As usual, she had come to find out if the office stud would take her to the bookstore, for coffee, at break time. At the sight of Norman and Wally locked in their embrace, Gina’s mouth flew open. She covered it with her hand. She turned pale and headed for the restroom to throw up.
Also, during the intimate event, Jarvis Muncey was making his morning rounds. His face was the customary red. His hands were sweating, as usual. Even before he came around the door, or saw anything, he had already begun to say in his crackling voice, “OK, folks, let’s stop this chitchat and get to work.” The word
work
never crossed his lips. He had seen Norman and Wally entwined. All Jarvis Muncey could do was emit a squeal, rather like a pig in pain, and faint.
Dorinda and Mileah got out of their chairs and ran to the aid of their boss. Norman and Wally disentangled their bodies. Norman said, “Wally you bend down and loosen his tie, so he can breathe. I’ll go get some smelling salts out of the first aid kit. Mileah, you run upstairs and see if the nurse is in the health department office.”
Dorinda remarked, “I’ll pray.”
As Wally was loosening Muncey’s tie, Muncey slowly opened one of his eyes, then the other. He looked at Wally.
Wally asked, “Are you going to be all right Mr. Muncey? You best not get up till the nurse gets here.”
Muncey smiled, “Dang! I never thought you’d be the one to land ol’ Norman. You lucky boy. I’ve been trying for two years. Never got anywhere. I’m too old.”
Chapter 37
As lunchtime drew near, menacing clouds from an approaching storm darkened the sky. Thunder started to rumble and roar, in the distance, sounding like the cannons that must have echoed through these parts during the War Between the States. People in cars, or on the sidewalks, would have been aware that each clap of thunder was louder than the one directly preceding it, that the storm was bearing down upon the city. Yet, in the office building, with its noise insulation and all the windowless cubicles, workers didn’t realize the severity of the impending cloudburst until the lights flickered out, then came back on, and all the computers restarted.
People went to rooms with windows and looked out. Trees were swaying in the nearby city park. Flashes of lightning illuminated the darkened sky as bright as a baseball stadium on a summer night. Peals of thunder boomed and cracked through the air. Then came the rain–torrents of it. Gutters and downspouts failed. Sheets of water shot from the roofs of nearby buildings. Foaming liquid jumped out of existing drainage ditches and carved new ones in soft earth. Puddles become ponds and overflowed into basements and underground garages. Storm drains grew slow, then backed up--overwhelmed by the deluge.
Workers canceled their plans to go out for lunch, even though it was too late to order in. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to Freddie, the delivery boy from the deli up the street. Sure, he came out in bad weather, but no one was going to ask him to brave this episode. They would make use of the vending machines in the employee kitchen.
The rain did let up at times, but it always started up again. Wally clicked the desktop weather icon on his computer screen. A red crawler with white lettering screamed for attention, “
A flash flood watch has been issued for the southern counties of West Virginia. Be alert for quickly rising waters, especially in low-lying areas along streams. Cities in the watch area include Brockton and Poplar Hill.
”
At the end of the workday, it was still raining, though not as heavily as it had been. Norman fished an old umbrella from the recess between the side of his desk and the wall. He laughed as he opened it. The cloth had torn loose from the frame in two places. It was ripped and frayed. “No use trying to stay dry with this thing. We will just have to make a run for it across the parking lot.”
Wally chuckled and looked directly at Norman. “Will you still love me when my hair is a mess and I am all wet?”
Norman gave him a sassy look. “Of course I will. Don’t you remember when I wanted us to make love in the shower? Whew. That turns me on just thinking about it.”
Wally giggled.
As they crossed the parking lot, Wally’s hair did become a mess. His jacket and shirt got soaked. The bottoms of his trousers seemed to attract the water from puddles and swished around his legs.
Norman uttered a whimsical complaint, “Oh my God! I’ve got water between my toes. It’s like I am wearing flip-flops. These shoes are new!”
Once they were in the car, Norman started the engine. Before he put it in gear, he turned to Wally, “Heavenly days, you’re a mess. But, I might add, a beautiful, sexy mess. Here let me kiss you.”
Their lips met. Norman’s tongue went exploring. Wally’s mind blew fuses. Norman held on. He breathed heavily. His tongue lingered. His hands went roaming. His appetite for Wally could not be satisfied. Then he pulled back and looked intently into Wally’s eyes reading all the tons of loving thoughts that shone there. He grabbed Wally and kissed him again, a repeat performance. Then, he stopped.
“My God, Norman! You outdid yourself with that kiss. The energy . . . It’s like you’re getting ready to leave on a trip to Outer Mongolia or something.”
Norman let out a low chuckle. “Naw. It’s like I
really
love you, man. And sometimes I have to show you. Never pass up a chance to let someone know how much you love them. You never know what will happen in life.”
The trip to Poplar Hill was not pleasant. The windshield wipers had to be on high speed. Even then, it was difficult to see. Potholes looked like innocent puddles. There were ponds anywhere the pavement had a little dip. A few drainage ditches had overflowed and run across the road. Norman reduced speed to avoid hydroplaning. Yet, with the inconvenience and discomfort of driving in heavy rain, the commute was uneventful until they were just a few miles from Poplar Hill, at a point where the road was only fifty feet or so above the river. Here, the bank sloped steeply down to the water. The road had a wide shoulder with a flat grassy area next to it. Guardrails had never been installed.
The rain had slowed somewhat. Wally was peering through the windshield trying to see if the river was near flood stage. The water was high but not near the top of the bank. He noticed a woman, up ahead, standing beside the road. She was waving her arms wildly, looking first at the oncoming traffic, then at something in the river. Her dress was torn and stained with blood.
“Hey Norman,” yelled Wally. “Let’s see what’s wrong with that lady up there. It looks like there’s been an accident.”
Norman guided the car onto the shoulder and came to a stop. As he and Wally got out, the lady ran up to them, screaming. “We skidded off the road and went over the bank. My little girl! She’s still in the back of the truck. There’s a flash flood coming down Bent Creek. When it hits the river the water’s going to rise. She’ll drown. Help us! Oh, help us! Please! Save my little Sadie!”
Norman and Wally looked toward the river. A small pickup truck was at the foot of the bank, lodged in some dense bushes whose tops were barely visible above the water. The front of the truck was submerged. The truck’s rear wheels were raised several feet off the surface of the steep bank. A little girl, about five years old, was in the back of the pickup, holding tightly to the tailgate. The water had risen enough that someone would have to wade almost knee deep to rescue the child. Now and then, a current near the bank would cause the back of the truck to move up a few inches, then drop down quickly. Whenever that happened, the little girl would let out a wild scream.
“Oh, save my darling little Sadie!” screamed the lady. “She can’t swim.”
Norman was first down the bank. His shoes were already wet. He didn’t remove them. He rolled up the legs of his slacks and stepped gingerly into the water behind the truck. The bank was very steep at this point, but the ground seemed solid enough under his feet. He approached the stranded girl. When he was close enough to the truck to attempt a rescue, he decided to speak to her and try to calm her fears. “Hey, little girl. Your name is Sadie, isn’t it?”
Sadie managed a smile and shook her head yes.
“Well, I’m Norman, and I’m going to try to help you get out of the truck.”
Norman felt the current near the bank getting stronger. All at once, it jolted the truck. The rear bumper raised nearly half a foot higher. Sadie screamed and started crying. Norman tried lifting his arms up to get Sadie, but he was not able to reach far enough to lift her over the tailgate. One foot slipped in the mud. He regained his balance. He turned his head slightly and shouted to Wally, “Stand at the edge of the water. As soon as I have the girl in my arms, I’ll turn and give her to you. Don’t come out in the water. It’s too treacherous. The ground under the water is getting very slippery.”
Steadying himself, Norman raised his arms again and stretched his body as much as he could. He called to the child. “Climb over the tailgate, Sadie. I’ll get you down from the truck. Then, I’ll take you over the water and set you on the bank.”
The child did not hesitate. Norman was her only chance. She climbed over the gate and into his arms.
Wally yelled, “Hurry, Norman. The water’s rising fast. It’s already lapping at my shoes.”
Fear surged through Norman’s body. Would they ever make it? He couldn’t let Sadie see how afraid he was. “Hold tight to Uncle Norman, honey. I am getting ready to hand you over to Cousin Wally.”
Norman made a slow turn. He was facing Wally. He wondered if he should try to take a step up the bank. No, he thought, I’ll slip if I do that. His strong arms held tight to the little girl. He stretched them toward Wally. “Here, Wally, take her!”
Wally took one step forward. That was enough to get Sadie into his arms. She clung to him and began to sob. “Now, now, child. You’re safe. I am going to set you on the bank, so I can help Norman.”
Norman tried to climb out of the water. His foot slipped again. This time, he lost his balance. He fell. His head was still above the surface. He grabbed one of the rear wheels of the pickup, hoping he could pull himself back to his feet. The truck careened and made a sickening sound. “My God,” yelled Norman. “What is this, the Titanic or something?” The rear of the truck swung around, then dipped sharply, turning almost on its side. The bumper snagged the rolled-up leg of Norman’s pants. He couldn’t get loose. He began to scream. The raging current swept Norman and the truck into midstream. Norman was still screaming when the truck flipped over and took him underwater. Though he struggled and pulled with all his strength, he was not able to free himself. The truck came back to the surface about fifty yards downstream. Wally did not see Norman. The truck disappeared again.
Tears filled Wally’s eyes. He yelled, “Norman, don’t leave me. Oh, God! Please don’t let him drown.”
Wally started to step into the water. Sadie screamed. Her mother yelled. “No! You’ll drown. You can’t help him.”
The little girl made her way up the bank and held tightly to her mother’s dress. She screamed and sobbed. “Where’s the nice man, Mommy?” Her mother could not answer.
Wally slipped and fell several times before he reached the top of the bank. Perhaps he would be able to get a better view of the river and be on the lookout for Norman.
A deputy sheriff stopped by in his cruiser. He questioned them about the incident. He got Wally’s telephone number and asked about Norman’s next of kin, just in case.
“I don’t know anything about his family,” said Wally. “He doesn’t talk about them. It’s like he doesn’t even have a family.”
The deputy looked at Wally. “We have a group of emergency service personnel, in helicopters, who are rescuing folks trapped by the high waters. They will help your friend if they see him. But, the current is too strong to take a boat out there now. We have to wait until the water goes down. I am going to give the lady and her daughter a ride into town. Will you be able to drive yourself?”
“Let me check to see if Norman left the keys in the car. I’m almost sure he did.”
Wally found the keys still in the ignition. He put them in his pocket and walked back to the deputy. “I am going to stay here a while. I know my friend will come back. I just know he will.”
“OK,” said the deputy. “If you need us, dial 911 on your cell phone, and we’ll send somebody back out here.”
The deputy drove off with the woman and the little girl in his car. Wally sat in the grass at the top of the riverbank. There, he sat and sat, for nearly three hours.
Surely Norman would pop up out of the river, spewing water from his mouth. Perhaps he’d pull a small fish out of his shirt and laugh heartily as he crawled up the bank and flopped down beside Wally. He would say, “Here I am, old boy. You knew I would be back, didn’t you?”
It didn’t happen.
Wally imagined that he heard a motor boat chugging up river. It must be Norman. He’ll have them bring him almost to shore. He’ll scamper up the bank with that great Normanesque smile on his face. He will kiss me and say, “Oh, it’s so good to be back in your arms. I am so glad this is over with.”
It didn’t happen.
Wally conjured up a scenario where an army helicopter would fly overheard and lower Norman on a rope. Norman would hold the rope with one hand and salute Wally with the other. “Here I am sir, come to save the day. I love you.” As he neared the ground, Norman would let go of the rope and cling to Wally, telling him how glad he was to see him again. They would embrace each other and kiss.
It didn’t happen.
It was getting dark. There was no sign of Norman. Wally went over to the car. He would go home. Norman would be back in the morning, wouldn’t he? As Wally opened the door on the driver’s side, he noticed that Norman’s sports jacket had been placed neatly on the back seat. Norman never did like to drive with a coat or jacket.
Wally reached over the seat and lifted the jacket with one hand. With the other hand he touched the material, moving his fingers softly across it, just as he would do with Norman himself when they were cuddling. He sniffed out Norman’s cologne and fancied the incredible man standing next to him. He put the jacket on himself and slipped into the driver’s seat. As he sat there slowly moving his hands around the steering wheel, he imagined his beloved Norman gripping the same wheel earlier in the day. Norman would find his way home. They would be happy again. Wally was certain. He started the engine and drove off.