Chapter Two by Michael Miller<\/p>\n
No Guardian Angel<\/p>\n
Adam listened to the thunder for two hours before the rumble shook me out of my slumber. I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t tell him I was awake, I never do. Sleep on the ground is precious and sometimes rare, and all I wanted was to go back. I feared that Adam, a notorious non-sleeper in the wild, might be looking for company. But I was more concerned about Matt, Daryl and Robby. I thought I had anticipated every possible disaster, from pellet wounds to thin ice, but thunderstorms? We never have them in the fall and this one scared me. One thousand and one, one thousand and two, I began counting, not knowing that beside me, Adam was doing the same. We were both hoping the storm was blowing out, not in.<\/p>\n
Inside our flimsy walls, the lightning flashes were brilliant and yellow, as though someone were flipping a bug light on and off. I worried about the boys in their tent on the treeless point overlooking Moosehead Lake. They were the highest thing around, heck, they were the only thing around. A blue tent with a metal frame.<\/p>\n
Groggy, and disoriented, I couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t decide if they were in danger. Our tent would flash yellow and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d think, of course they are! A month ago I read about Boy Scouts hit by lightning on a mountain. After the following thunder clap, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d think, chill! In southern Indiana, my father and I would leave our house to be closer to those storms. Often lightning hit the metal rod on the roof, and once I saw ball lightning shoot from the family room fireplace. Another flash, and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d think – but men are much more likely to die from lightning strikes than women, because they fish and play golf. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s the metal in their hands. Jumbled, disparate thoughts prevented me from getting my rational mind around the problem. So I fell asleep.<\/p>\n
I woke awake again to more thunder, but to a whiter, steadier light – Daryl\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s flashlight<\/p>\n
I unzipped the sleeping bag, and in my underwear I crawled out of the tent to see Daryl, his dark hair wet, fumbling with the door to my truck.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hey,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Daryl said.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What happened?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
I was happy to see at least one boy back; I assumed the other two were still alive.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153The wind was awful. It flattened the tent on my side and I got soaked. I already changed my clothes. Matt wanted to me to stay, maybe to hold the tent up. I think he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s angry I left.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Daryl opened the passenger door as thunder pealed overhead.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What are you going to do?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m sleeping in the truck.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Without a sleeping bag?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mine is soaking wet; I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll be all right.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I have another bag. I use it to sleep on. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll get it for you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d At two thirty in the morning, I was happy to construct any kind of sentences, even short ones. <\/p>\n
I crawled back into my tent for the extra bag, expecting to see Adam sitting up, ready for a night\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s dialogue on the physics of thunderstorms, but he hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t moved. Jazzed, I wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have minded the company. I crawled back out into the rain, handed the bag to Daryl who had reclined the seat as far back as it would go. As he snuggled into the bag, I looked out to the point, and sure enough with each lightning flash, I could see the outline of the tent.<\/p>\n
I know, I should have walked down and brought Matt and Robby back, but instead, I convinced myself the storm was abating and sneaked back into my tent, and again fell asleep. This time, it wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t light or thunder that awakened me, but the sound of voices.<\/p>\n
I looked at Adam, nothing, checked the time – 4 AM – and again crawled through the door of our tent. Matt was pulling the tailgate down , and Robby stood beside him.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m glad to see you off the point.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t believe the wind.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Robby exclaimed. <\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Dad, I woke up and looked for the door. It was over my head!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Now, there is an image. The wind trying to roll the boys out onto the lake. Adam and I had pitched our tent next to a stand of trees, and we felt the rain, heard the thunder, but were mostly shielded from the wind. Exposed on the point, the blue tent fought the wind and lost. <\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153The tent is flat on the ground with our stuff in it. We put rocks on it to hold it there.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d They dropped the tailgate of the truck and with dry bags, climbed inside. The truck bed is short and the floor is ribbed. With their knees pulled to their chests and no pads underneath, they couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t be comfortable, but I was relieved they were inside and safe. I closed the tailgate, snapped the window shut and for the last time slipped into my own bag. <\/p>\n
Chapter Two by Michael Miller No Guardian Angel Adam listened to the thunder for two hours before the rumble shook me out of my slumber. I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t tell him I was awake, I never do. Sleep on the ground is … Continue reading ![\"truckbed_sm.jpg\"](\"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/archives\/images\/truckbed_sm.jpg\")
\nThe morning after.
\nView larger image<\/a><\/p>\n![\"aftermath_sm.jpg\"](\"https:\/\/mainecourse.com\/mt\/archives\/images\/aftermath_sm.jpg\")
\nThe remains of the day. Sorting through soggy bags, pads, etc.
\nView larger image<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"