Ch7: The Time Warp
Chapter 7: The Time Warp
May, 1995
I huddled under the covers, fearing for my life. The world was a cacophony of noise around me as thunder exploded outside my room and rain pelted against my window. I hadn’t slept even a single wink that night thanks to the horrifying sounds coming from outdoors. Those terrible sounds; like taunts from mother nature herself telling me she hated me and wanted me dead. What’s worse, I wasn’t supposed to be out of my room after bedtime unless I had to go to the bathroom, so I couldn’t go hide from the thunder and lightning in my favorite hiding spot, either. All I could do is curl up into a ball under the covers and hope that the world didn’t come after me.
A deafening crack of thunder from right over my house was all it took to push me right over the edge.
I wailed and sobbed loudly, calling out for my mother. I couldn’t stay in this room tonight; it just wasn’t safe. I huddled up in the corner of the bed between the wall and the headboard, weeping in fear. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long before my cries were heard and the door opened, my mother walking into the room.
My mother made a calming, shushing noise as she sat down on the bed and put an arm over my shoulders. I sniveled, burying my head into her chest and hugging her around her waist. We sat there for a few minutes not saying anything as I let out my fear and frustration into her now thoroughly tear-dampened blouse. My mother sat there and took it, one hand around my waist and the other stroking my hair comfortingly. After about five minutes, she put a finger under my chin and lifted my head to look into her eyes. I could see them behind her glasses, full of concern and sympathy.
“Feeling any better?” she asked calmly.
I sniffed, nodding a little. “Mm-hmm...” I replied noncommittally.
She sighed. “You don’t sound like it,” she said raising an eyebrow.
I put my cheek back against her chest, hugging up close to her. “’mscared...” I muttered.
My mother shook her head. “I’ve told you in the past, Will. There’s nothing to be scared of. Thunderstorms are just very noisy, that’s it. They can’t hurt you if you’re inside,” she said, a small smile on her face, holding me closer.
“’mnot scared of thunder,” I said softly into her chest.
“You’re not?” she asked, sounding a little bit surprised.
I shook my head, not once leaving the comforting sound of her heartbeat.
“What are you scared of then?”
I said nothing for a moment until my mother hooked a finger under my chin again and lifted my face to her eyes once more. I averted my gaze, taking an interest all of a sudden with a discarded crayon on the floor. Then I sighed and softly answered.
“...’nados...”
“Tornadoes?” my mother asked, cocking an eyebrow.
My small hand gripped her arm as tightly as I could as I nodded. I was embarrassed to be afraid, even at just five years old. I wanted to be treated like a big boy, but if I kept acting like a ‘fraidy cat nobody would ever treat me like a grown up. I couldn’t help it though. Storms terrified me. “Yeah,” I said softly.
She sighed. “Oh, Will. You’ve been watching Kids Geographic again, haven’t you?”
I nodded. Kids Geographic was one of my favorite TV programs. It was fun to learn about all sorts of neat animals and dinosaurs and space and weather stuff. Well, fun until you learned that there were spiders out there that could kill you with one bite, anyway. Or that meteors could slam into the earth at any moment and wipe out everything. Or that horrible doom funnels could swoop out of the clouds and toss you and everything you loved into the sky. My mom let me watch it because it was ‘eddycasonal’ or something, and as much as I loved the show, it had implanted more than one horrible phobia in my young brain.
My mom started to stroke my hair again, her touch comforting to my fear-addled mind. “I’m not going to lie, Will,” my mother began, “tornadoes are dangerous.”
I nodded. I already knew that, of course. Why did she think I was so terrified?
“But,” she continued, “I want you to know right now that there’s no reason to be scared.”
I cocked my little head. “There’s not?”
“No,” she answered, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Tornadoes are very, very rare, Will. Just because there’s a thunderstorm outside doesn’t mean that a tornado is going to crop up.”
I pointed at the window. “But it’s not just a thunderstorm. It’s a BAD thunderstorm!”
My mom chuckled. “It’s called a ‘severe’ thunderstorm, Will,” she said, patting my back softly. “And that’s very common around here.”
That only made me feel worse.
It must have shown on my face because she quickly started to clarify. “No, no, honey. What I’m saying is that just because there’s a big thunderstorm going on doesn’t mean that a tornado is on the way.”
“But one could be on the way, right?” I said fitfully.
She sighed again. “A tornado could form nearby, of course. It’s possible anywhere, really.” I started to huddle up again but she put a hand on my shoulder. “What I’m trying to say though is this; it’s incredibly unlikely that a tornado will form, let alone even grow big enough to touch the ground.”
“But what if it does?!” I nearly shouted.
My mother shrugged. “Well, if a tornado does touch the ground, they’re usually gone pretty fast. Some tornadoes don’t even last a full minute. And if they do touch the ground, they move so erratically that they more than likely won’t hit us.”
My nose twisted up in confusion. “’Raticly?” I asked, not knowing what she meant.
She smiled. “It means that they move all over the place with no real path.” She put her arms around me again, my face in her chest. “What I’m getting at, Will, is that the chances of our house being blown over by a tornado are incredibly small. The chances are a million to one. I highly doubt it’ll ever happen.”
I sniffled again before nodding. “Okay, mommy.”
“That’s my big boy,” she said, proudly. “Think you can get to sleep now?” she asked.
I looked at the window, just as another bolt of lightning flashed in the distance. “I’unno... I dun want a tornado to get me while I sleep.”
My mother chuckled again. “You’d know if a tornado was coming. First there’d be a loud siren, and then you’d hear a sound like a waterfall or freight train coming at you.”
I still wasn’t particularly convinced. My mother kissed my forehead and pulled my Bugs Bunny covers over my shaking legs. “If it makes you feel better, though, just know that I’ll be sure to come and get you up if I think we’re ever in danger, okay?”
I nodded. Knowing my mother would be there for me made me feel a lot better, actually. “Okay, mommy.” I said again.
“Now you lie down and go to sleep, okay?” My mother smiled. “You’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
I nodded. “’Night mommy. I love you.”
“I love you too, Will. Goodnight.” She closed the door, leaving me alone in my room once again.
Thunder cracked outside once again. I didn’t cry this time, though. I felt a lot safer, reassured that my mother would be able to help me if there was ever any danger. It was a bit difficult with the storm making such a racket outside, but I finally managed to drift into a peaceful sleep.
June, 2003
“Will, get up.”
I groaned, wiping the sleep from my eyes. “Mmrrach?” I mumbled incoherently, fumbling for my glasses on the nightstand. Finally managing to grab them, I cleaned them on my shirt a little and put them on. My vision was still cloudy with sleep, but I managed to read the clock well enough. It was four in the morning.
I looked up to see my mother standing over me. She was standing in her nightgown, her hair a mess; a far cry from the neat French braid that she usually wore it in. Her face looked relatively calm, but her posture told me otherwise. She was very rigid and tense.
“Mom?” I asked, yawning as thunder rolled outside my big window. “What’s up?”
“Your father and I need you to come downstairs,” she said, not explaining anything. “Quickly now.”
“It’s four in the morning, mom.” I protested. “Can’t it wait, whatever it is?”
My mother shuffled her feet. “We’d feel better if you were downstairs with us,” she insisted.
A flash of lightning just outside my window made me realize the situation. My stomach dropped out and horror crept over my face. “You’re not saying...” I muttered, looking out at the storm.
She took my hand and helped me out of bed. “It’s more likely than ever before...” she said softly. “No need to panic yet, but we’d just feel more comfortable if the whole family was together in the family room where we can get to the basement if we have to.”
I nodded, suddenly feeling very sweaty. “Alright,” I damn near whispered. “Let me grab Siguna.”
I reached over to my desk chair and picked up a great big ball of fluff. Siguna was our big, fluffy, long-haired Norwegian forest cat. She had a habit of sleeping in my desk chair every night for some reason, as opposed to all the various cat beds we had around the house. She’d always lie on my chest as I went to bed, and would lick my nose with her rough tongue and purr me to sleep. Once I was asleep, she’d relocate to the swivel chair. She was a good cat, and if I was going to be near the basement, I wanted to be damn sure she was, too.
I carried Siguna in my arms as I followed my mother down to the family room. The television was on and turned to the weather channel. My dad sat in his vinyl armchair, his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his fists. He stared intently at the screen.
My sister lay on the couch sleeping.
Dammit, Dani. Can’t you give a crap just once?
I sat down at the fireplace, setting Siguna down. The fluffy cat bounded over to our other cat, Argus, and started trying to play with him. Argus brushed her off with his usual sense of entitled dignity.
I looked to my dad. “How bad is it?” I asked.
“Shush,” he snapped at me, still staring at the screen. I flinched. Even my dad was shaken up. That wasn’t a good sign.
I looked at the TV. The reporter stood in front of a big map of the Midwest. There was a big red splotch over Lake Michigan, covering northeast Illinois and parts of Wisconsin. Right over Chicago was a little white spot with an arrow pointing to it that read, “Greatest Threat.”
Crap.
I shifted uncomfortably. My mother stepped over to me and handed me a cup of tea, which I happily accepted. “Thanks,” I said.
My mother nodded and sat down in the armchair next to my father’s.
“So what do we do?” I asked.
My father snapped me a glare. He was about to tell me to shush again, but my mother put her hand on his leg and gave him a glare of her own. He sighed, scratching at his gray beard. “Not much we can do,” he said in his deep basso voice. “We just have to sit here and be ready if we hear a freight train.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “That’s it?”
“You got something else to suggest?” my father snapped, making me flinch.
“Dear...” my mother admonished.
I grumbled, looking over enviously at my sister. She scratched her stomach in her sleep, turning over to face the back of the couch. If only I could be that impassive.
We sat there in the dim light, listening to the weatherman on the television repeat over and over just how bad the weather was in our area. The tension was thick enough that I thought I might drown in it.
And then the power went out.
“Figures,” my dad grumbled, lighting up a flashlight. “A branch probably knocked out a power line or something.”
“Should we...?” I began, pointing to the basement door.
My mother shook her head. “We’ll wait until we actually hear something before we move.” She looked at me. “Remember what I said about how unlikely it is?”
I nodded.
She smiled. “We’ll get through this. One way or another, Will. Don’t you worry.”
I couldn’t help but worry. I’d always hated storms, and this was by far the worst one I’d ever lived through. We sat there in silence for awhile, the only noise coming from the tempest outside.
It took almost all night, but the storm slowly started to die down, the tension slowly going with it. The ordeal had been tiring enough that I fell asleep right there.
August, 2007
The siren woke me up.
It was sixth period. The very first day of my senior year of high school. I had a free period right after Lunch and was making the most of it by taking a nap in the lounge.
Or rather, I would have been were it not for the emergency siren going off. I looked up from the couch I was sleeping on blearily to see that everybody was filing down the stairs, nervous looks on everybody’s faces.
“The hell are you doing, boy?!” I suddenly heard from behind me. I whipped around to see Mr. Thomas, or “Mr. T” as most of the student body called him, our dean of students. He bore no resemblance to the actor in question who starred on ‘The A-Team,’ being a lanky, tall white man with a short black beard, hair, and thick rimmed glasses. His attitude, on the other hand, was very comparable.
“I was just taking a nap, sir.” I said, calmly.
“You shouldn’t be doing that anyway. Get up, Mr. Parish,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I got up, grabbing my backpack off the floor next to me. “What’s going on, sir?” I asked as I filed in behind the other students, Mr. T falling in behind me.
“Funnel clouds in the area,” he said. “We’re taking the students to the basement.”
I blinked. “You’re not serious,” I said.
“Does it look like we’re not serious?” he said, lifting a hand to his mouth. “Move along everybody!” he shouted at the group ahead of us.
I wrung my hands nervously. I had been through a lot of tornado warnings in my life, living in the Chicagoland area and all. I hadn’t been this particularly anxious about one since I was thirteen, though: That night my mother pulled me out of bed and we all sat in the family room. It turned out that there had been over eighty tornado touchdowns in our area. Almost none of them, however, did any more than minimal damage, and I heard nothing about any fatalities. Most of them didn’t even last more than a minute, apparently. My up-to-that-point lifelong fear of tornadoes had basically been shattered by the whole event. If there could be eighty tornado touchdowns in my area, and not one of them harming a soul, let alone even coming close to harming me, then surely they were far less to be feared than I originally thought.
This time, though, I felt nervous. Our school was basically built into the side of a hill and the so-called “basement” was completely exposed on the south side. Furthermore, the south side of the building was covered in big bay windows that were just perfect for breaking into a million deadly shards of swirling glass. Not to mention the trampling panic that might course through the school if a tornado did so much as approach. More people could likely be killed underfoot than by the weather itself.
It was not a good situation to be in. If a tornado warning were to happen at my house, I could handle it, but here at my school? I shook my head and looked to Mr. T. “So what do we do, then?”
Mr. T shrugged. “What you’ve always done in the drills. Head down against the walls.”
The student body filed into the basement, which was nowhere near big enough to hold every student there. Some of them were forced out of the basement halls and into the nearby classrooms.
I ended up in the chemistry room, of all places.
Glass bottles and chemicals everywhere.
The perfect place to be in a twister.
I grumbled nervously, facing the wall and putting my hands over my head.
I heard some of the students next to me giggling. One of them snickered about how she was getting out of class for this. Frankly, I’d have rather taken Algebra 2 again before living through another twister that was apparently quite close.
“I bet it’s a sign,” one of the students joked. “School is starting too early. They need to give us a few more weeks of summer or they’ll make Thor angry.”
A few students started chuckling at that. “Thor smash!” one of them called out.
“You’re thinking of the Hulk, you nimrod.”
I shook my head. Weirdly enough, their banter was having something of a positive effect on me. If they weren’t nervous, why should I be? I turned my head to look out the big window. The sky was a disturbing green, but otherwise, everything looked the same as ever. There were even cars out on the road at the bottom of the hill, going about their business as usual.
I guess there really wasn’t much to fear.
If everybody else was going to take this in stride, then there was no reason I couldn’t. After all, what did my mother say? A million to one?
There was nothing to worry about.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
The tornado loomed in front of us, like a mocking, angry god. Rarity gawked off to my right somewhere, struck dumb with terror. I wrung my hands together in awe, frustration, and dread.
“...a million to one.” I whimpered.
Aaaaand we're back!
Sorry, that little hiatus took a fair bit longer than expected. Didn't mean to leave you on a cliffhanger for so long. Things just tend to happen, you know? ^^;
The good news, though, is that I've now got a bunch of things either ready or near-ready for you. In fact, chapter 8 is already written and, as soon as it's edited, will be up here as well. So for all you who are wondering how Will and Rarity are going to get out of the tornado, please be patient. It shouldn't be more than a day.
...unless the guys tell me that the chapter sucks rotten eggs, but hopefully that won't happen.
Anyway, this is just some background on Will and his history with tornadoes. After reviewing my scene wherein they have to get out of the tornado and looking over a few key lines, I felt that some background on this little aspect would be good to show. It'll make more sense once the next chapter gets up tomorrow.
So yes. A bit of an interlude for now, but I promise you that more is on the way. Stay tuned! :)
FUN FACT! Everything in this chapter is actually autobiographical, save for a certain amount of paraphrasing and the last few lines taking place in 2012. All of the previous three events in this chapter actually happened to me for real.
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Very nice chapter. I read Mr. T's dialogue in his voice
Now, we shall await for the twister.
I liked the character development and history of this chapter. And since I know the next chapter is almost ready to go, I'm not worried about waiting another day or so to see what happens to Will and Rarity.
So I know all of these are self inserts, so did all of these experiences actually happen to you or are they for the sake of the story?
2868685
XD you probably didn't actually. Mr. T... that is to say OUR Mr. T... was actually a skinny beanpole of a white guy. We just called him Mr. T because for one thing his real name was actually Mr. Thomas, but he also acted very tough and hardassed all the time. As I said in the author's notes, everything in this particular chapter is autobiographical to a degree.
So yeah. That guy actually exists.
Nice timing sir! This went up literally right as I caught up on "Onward Valiant Crusaders"
2868699
Yes indeed! All of these things happened to me, save for the last bit that takes place in 2012, of course. That's why when I wanted to put the pair in danger, the first thing I latched onto to do so was a twister.
I hated tornadoes when I was little... and I STILL do
2868707 WHAT! So you're telling me that you don't actually know Rarity in real life! I am SOOOOOO done with this site. Unfavorited and down-voted.
This made me remember the storm drills I had to do in school, which I remarked to the administrators really should have amounted to "Put your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye because our emergency meeting area is less than ten feet away from the massive, non-stormproof windows."
Tornado's are scary but Hurricane's are fucking nuts! I've seen a twister from afar but I've lived through two Hurricane's (Rita and Ike).
2868701
a million to one obviously means that you'll likely get one million tornados at the rate you're going.
...Hang on.
*goes to play Time Warp on Just Dance 4*
...Alright, what's going on?
First off, I love that song. Second, great chapter!
I remember being scared of tornadoes when I was a kid. But then I realized I lived in the Pacific coast...
2868928 I've gone through Katrina, Rita, Gustav, and Issac. What state do you live in? Me? Louisiana.
Que flash backs. "FLEE!" "All ponies shall become corrupt!" "Destroy their way of life!" "MOAR OOC!"
...
yet this one is featured...
Do I dare?
*peeks in*
2869162
All of us in the collab are very much aware of how much PonyFall sucked back about a year ago. So much so, in fact, that the mods had to crack down on it.
Not sure if you've seen any of it since then, but there's been a hell of a lot of push to up the quality of the fics as much as humanly possible and the collab has shrunk down to a mere fraction of what it used to be.
I invite you to give it a shot. I hope you enjoy it. The best place to probably start though, would be PonyFall: Australia by TheSlorg. Most of us tend to agree that it's the best story in the collab and it has the advantage of starring two ponies to one human. It's probably the easiest to get into.
2869084 Your neighbor to your west, Texas. Still remember the chaos when everybody was trying to get out of Houston for Rita. The whole of I-10 was jam packed from Houston to San Antonio.
One of these natural phenomena I've never had the displeasure of encountering. Alongside hurricanes, earthquakes, flash floods, tsunamis, and so on... Because winter aside, vikingland is fairly safe from natural disasters...
Well written so far.
Good chapter again Dusty.
And I must say, bad pun totally intended, what a twist(er)! 
2869162
Trust Dusty in this. The collab has gotten a lot better and with the reduced number of authors they can stay focused on the important things.
I'd say you start with Australia and when you can do, read Onward Valiant Crusaders at the same time. Crossing events etc.
Then I'd suggest Rainbows and Mile High Apple Pie.
Majestic Royalty, The Dawning of Twilight and Leather and Lace are optional to read at the moment, because they have no crossing events right now.
Just a way to read them.
Ican only say I enjoy them very much and can't wait for one of them to update.
Dragon
2869015 Yeah we get to worry about the earthquakes instead.
2869015 I live in the Pacific Northwest, where volcanoes, floods, and earthquakes are the more substantial worries, though wind-speeds have reached 97 miles per hour right near my house. A tree in our yard finally finished falling over last winter.
2869240 I'm in Baton Rouge, too far away to get the traffic trouble. For Rita, all we had was heavy rain, and Katrina was all wind. Were ya'll affected by Gustav?
2872529 Just wind and rain.
Tornadoes? Pfft.
Try living in Kansas.
2869015
I might point out that tornadoes do and have happened in the PNW.
I take it no one ever told your Mother that million to one chances happen nine times out of ten.
Nice chapter overall. Some nice background on your character (and you yourself as a result) and it certainly doesn't look good for what's coming next.
Living in central Ohio, I'm not even phased by the word tornado. In fact the last time the tornado sirens went off in my hometown I went out on the deck of our house and watched the huge storm looking for any funnel clouds.
Though i can easily understand the fear for people living in a more tornado prone area, I always laugh at the thought of having/ seeing a tornado.
I hate 'naedoes.
You said it. I've had it easy over here in southeastern Michigan, only had to go through 3 warnings in my 14 years, all of which I had the "pleasure" of doing at a friend's house.
And the angry god spoke Volumes: "I SHALL CONSUME EVERYTHING!"