Storms, Strangers and Safety

Someone was knocking at the door. As she walked to see who was there, Cheryl saw a shadow at the window. She wasn't expecting anyone, especially at this late hour.

There had been news reports of a prison escapee that was in her area. She grew increasingly afraid. She was alone. And because she had only been here for less than a few months, she hadn't had the opportunity to meet any of her neighbors.

The knocking continued.

"What should I do?" she asked herself. "Could this be that prisoner that got out? Was someone in trouble and just looking for help?" She was frozen now in fear.

The knocking continued.

She reached for the phone beside her bed. It was dead. There was no tone available. She turned to reach for her purse. She rifled through it looking for her cell phone. It had no signal either. She was disconnected from the world.

It began to rain outside. A storm was approaching and it seemed extremely violent. The winds howled through the branches of the Ash trees on her block. Taking with each blast, handfuls of leaves and dirt all flying through the air. It screeched through the windowpanes with shrill sounds resembling an angry housecat whose tail was caught beneath a rocking chair.

The rain was hitting the glass like small pebbles. It washed over the panes like veils of water obscuring any possible view of the outdoors. Any attempts to venture out would be met with gallons upon gallons of water, placing all in its path in personal danger.

The knocking continued. It grew louder now.

She jumped, startled by the rapping at her front door.

What was she to do? She had no way of calling for help. She could not escape the house for the storm. She didn't feel safe either way she thought about it. But what could she do? Then she remembered a bat she had in her closet.

She grasped for the lamp switch. She flicked it on and off, but there was no power. She looked toward the window and saw her security light from just above it. The rest of the neighbor's lights were out, too. She returned to her closet to look for the bat. She felt around the walls and finally took it in hand.

Stumbling through the darkness, she made her way back to her bed. Sitting on the side, she reached for the nightstand and rummaged through it to get her flashlight. She always kept a flashlight near her for just such emergencies.

She remained seated for a few moments more. She mumbled a brief prayer. Then she ventured out into the blackened hallway and down the flight of stairs to her door.

"Anybody home?" a voice cried. "Is there anybody in here?"

She cringed with fear. She clutched the bat tightly as she braced her frame against the wall as she made her way down.

With each step she took, she clutched the bat closely to her. Thunder crashed outside, it made her jump. She almost lost her balance and tumbled own the stairs, instead, she caught the railings and kept herself from falling. All the while, she never let go of her grip of the Louisville Slugger in her right hand.

"Is there anybody in here?" the voiced cried again. The knocking grew more violent, it grew louder. "Can someone please let me in?"

Finally making it down to the ground floor, she positioned herself aside the window, so as not to be seen by the visitor outside the door.

Suddenly there was a bright flash of light. It illuminated the whole room.

She screamed.

"Cheryl, is that you? Are you alright?" the voice cried.

The voice knew her name. Who was this voice?

"Cheryl, will you please open the door? I forgot my keys and I am soaked to the bone out here!"

Then, as if by magic, all of the lights, inside and out, came back on. She looked out the window. She saw an old blue Pathfinder in her driveway. She knew who it belonged to.

She opened the door. In walked a tall, thin man. He had wavy dark brown hair and was indeed soaked to the bone. As he stood inside the doorway, he began shaking off as much water as he could before he crossed the threshold.

By this time, she returned with some towels and dry clothes for the man.

"I'm sorry dear, I didn't know it was you." She exclaimed.

"Yeah, I forgot my keys. I tried to call...," her husband, Gary said.

"The phones weren't working because of the storm. It doesn't matter, I'm just glad you're home!"