Leaves skittered atop the autumn-colored canvas pool cover, stretched tight with straps, the expansive evening sky magenta & ochre brushed with charcoal clouds, view unbroken except for a detached cement structure in the distance painted like a burgundy barn.

Kim carried the candlelit birthday cake on a crystal trivet, refracted glow uplighting her adoration for Jim, whose cheeks were rosey with ascending devotion; husband & wife, sharing a slice of sweet celebration with their best friends, Rod & Ida, sitting separate in the dim shadows of the other couple’s cascading radiance.

“Weird weather today,” said Jim, cutting his birthday cake, Kim plating.

“No cake for me, thanks,” said Ida, sipping her San Pellegrino.

“This is all just part of the 150-year storm,” Rod’s jeer disguised as truth, “weather has always been violent & unpredictable.”

      “That’s so stupid, the weather is obviously worse than ever,” barked Ida.  

      “See what I mean, violent & unpredictable,” remarked Rod, pointing expressive eyebrows at Ida.  

      “It’s fine if you want to be a weather denier, Rod,” said Kim, truly sweet, “At least you & Ida agreed to your Shelter.  The US adapting Israel’s Mamad Laws for safe rooms in all homes & commercial spaces for weather emergencies is crucial; I won’t go anywhere that doesn’t have one.  I don’t know what Jimmy would have done if he wasn’t allowed to come play with Roddy if we didn’t ‘hatch match’.”  

      “That derecho squall tore through the development with 2 minutes notice, so even if I’m not worried, I’m prepared,” Rod responded, finishing his cake & beer.

“Ooh, look at Mr. Prepared. I picked out everything in our Shelter,” snarked Ida.

Rod cracked a cold one and replied, “Yeah, but who signed all the invoices?” 

“What size is that 15ft or 25ft,” asked Ida & Rod simultaneously scowling across the yard at Jim & Kim’s square burgundy structure, backlit by a crimson sunset.

“15ft, above & below ground for ground swell, & ‘sensitive materials provisions’ upgrade.”

“So morbid and grotesque,” guffawed Ida.   

A violent wind blasted through the yard, viciously stirring up the night & neighborhood.  

All their phones went off at once.

BEEP……………………………………………………………………………………………………

They knew the THE BEEP: the government screaming, scientists brazenly peeling the alarm, a digital archangel with an emergency expostulation too clamorous to be ignored in the brewing, palpating environment of atmospheric surges.

Kim, Jim, Ida, & Rod each read the text as they stood, the gale whipped the patio furniture across the pool cover: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY TAKE SHELTER NOW 

BEEP……………………………………………………………………………………………………

The crystal cake trivet lifted off the table in a wicked wind blast & airborne, bashed Kim’s face with broken glass as Jim ran around the table to block it, slid, & pushed into Kim’s falling body, her head impacting the slate stone, spilling gooey blood as the world around them uproared into confusing chaos of giant stinging raindrops from every direction.

Ida & Rod screamed for Jim to reach the Shelter, as he grabbed Kim, cradled her head to hoist her up, around the pool, & across the lawn, random fencing flying.

BEEP……………………………………………………………………………………………………

The storm raged wild water behind the deadbolts as they slammed into the Shelter, unconscious Kim slumped & pooling on the sterile tile.

BEEP…………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jim ripped his button-down off & applied pressure to Kim’s slightly sunken skull.  “Get me the first aid kit in the mirror cabinet!”  Rod & Ida scurried to discover & deliver the well-organized kit, stuffed with gauze & large stainless scissors to snip the sterile fabric, which was quickly saturated.  

BEEP……………………………………………………………………………………………………

The Shelter was insulated & quiet, sturdy, well-light unwavering silence, for the moments following the three of them lifting the still-unconscious Kim onto one of the two twin beds on the topside story, as Jim wept & Ida allowed Rod to hold her.

BEEP……………………………………………………………………………………………………

A crack like the world penetrated split apart the silence, a geode blasted by a hammer multiplied by a million, a shockwave slamming into the surface &, even dampened, horrible to hear & feel as the Shelter received a huge impact; Jim, Rod, & Ida fell to the floor in fear.

BEEP……………………………………………………………………………………………………

“I think ground swell made the empty pool rise out & it landed across the Shelter,” whispered Rod.

“I think you’re right.  I’m not getting wi-fi so I can’t check the camera out front.  I wonder if the solar panels are damaged,” mumbled Jim, voice, hands, & mind shaking.

 “Well how are we supposed to know what the weather is going to be, or when we will get out of here? I have to call Roddy & make sure he’s ok!” Ida demanded, an overflowed wellspring of emotion depending on a useless digital device. 

BEEP……………………………………………………………………………………………………

“STOP BEEPING!” Ida spiked her phone to the tile.  She instantly picked it back up.  

“What does the message say?” Asked Jim, applying continuous pressure to Kim.

Ida replied, reading the cracked crystal, “WEATHER EMERGENCY: Take shelter now.  Find the closest designated safe space & go there immediately. Check the media … How am I supposed to check the media?  The message hasn’t changed, I guess the weather hasn’t yet?”

“Or it’s cataclysmic,” said Rod, peering through the entrance peephole, seeing only black.

Jim scoffed, the pressure back on.

BEEP……………………………………………………………………………………………………

“This Shelter is nice,” inquired Ida, “Two floors, right? OK if we go down?”

“Yes. It’s a double suite down there; you two should take it.  We’ll stay up here.”

“Perfect,” yawned Rod.  

BEEP……………………………………………………………………………………………………

Ida opened the hatch & popped up to ask Jim, “Is there a phone charger?”

“Yes, with the generator.”

“Just how many hours is our generator?” Rod pushed up, “FYI, I used the composting toilet without …”

Jim’s swollen anger outpoured torrentially, “ARE YOU GOING TO ASK HOW KIM IS?” 

BEEP……………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Same emergency message,” deflected Ida, checking her broken screen. 

“Sorry Jim, when you didn’t update us, we assumed she was stable,” Rod replied haughtily.

“Shut up Rod. Jim, how is Kim?” asked Ida, cloying. 

“She’s dead.”

BEEP……………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Well put her outside!” commanded Rod.

“How about I put YOU OUTSIDE!” stood Jim.

Ida stepped in, holding the stainless emergency scissors menacingly, “Put her outside.” 

Jim flared, “We can’t open the entrance in the middle of a weather emergency,” rational in this vital moment of earth-shattering gravity, “we have body bags in our sensitive provisions.” 

“We can’t have a dead body in our Shelter,” charged Rod, reaching for Kim, blocked by Jim.  Fumbling & grappling onto the other single bed across the room, Jim punched Rod in the throat and dazed him enough to reach into storage and pull out a lock box, push in a quick code, get grip on a handgun & shoot Rod in the head, the deafening sound & dazing action collapsing the structure of reality.

BEEP……………………………………………………………………………………………………

Ida crashed onto Jim, who sat in a surreal haze, & stabbed him in his shoulder, neck, spine.

Blood gored from the two dead men, & Ida slid into & around the slippery fluid of confusion covering the Shelter, a port destroyed in the storm, asylum turned asylum.

BEEP……………………………………………………………………………………………………

Ida stripped & left everything in a sopping pile, gathered all the provisions & weapons, & slogged downstairs, locking the hatch, sealing the bodies of her husband & friends on the upstairs floor.

Ida toweled her face, body & hair off extravagantly with bottled water.  She compulsively checked her phone, a dead-end life line, over ate rations, & slept.

The silence woke her up.

Ida reached for her phone, her digits in a frenzy & barely able to hold the shattered device.  She plugged it in & as the screen stayed black, tapping it like constant focused CPR, turmoil constricted until

BEEP……………………………………………………………………………………………………

Ida sighed, relieved her phone was back on, a living reminder in the complete stillness, the emergency beep a life support accompanying her heart, BPMs slowing for hibernation. She stayed plugged into the generator, safe in the Shelter, as the desperate swelling of stormy insanity made landfall and seeped into the space & saturated Ida’s ability to exist in the final silence. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………