Charlie Coutts, “Hurricane Killer”

“Heavy winds and rain creep up on the east coast. Some experts say it will be one of the worst hurricanes in a few years.” says the news anchor. I make my way back to my room to plan one of my favorite days of the year… hurricane day. As I enter my room I make my way straight for my dresser. In the top drawer, I have all you could need for a hurricane. Flashlights, candles, rain jackets, and a knife. Well, the knife isn’t just for hurricanes but I keep it there for good luck. I take all of my stuff out of the drawer and throw it on the ground. I pick up my phone and decide to call my friends to make sure we are all on the same page. “You all ready Ricky?” I ask. “Are you serious Clark? I am the real hurricane lover out of the two of us.” “Oh please Ricky, you know you would wuss out in the big waves. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” “Fine you got me,” Ricky said, “But seriously are we going to meet up today or should we just wait for tomorrow?” asked Ricky. “Let’s do it tomorrow, it’s getting late and the storm is starting to brew. See you in the morning.” I

said.

I hung up the phone and made my way downstairs for dinner. As I reach the bottom my nose gets bombarded with my favorite smell, spaghetti. The night before every hurricane my mom decides to make her World Famous spaghetti. It is almost like a send-off meal for good luck and good health during the storm. My mom has never been a fan of hurricanes so she always feels the need to over-prepare. My dad on the other hand… He is more like me. Hurricanes were his favorite too. So I usually go to him when I ask to go out in the storm. At dinner, my mom goes over all of my rules about tomorrow. Where to go, what to do and who to be with. And of course, to end off the meal, she tells the story of the hurricane killer. Apparently, some dude walks around in all yellow and kills people during a hurricane... I don’t know but for some reason, my mom deeply believes this story and continues to tell us. I make my way back to the bedroom and decide to play some video games before bed. Usually, I play with Ricky but he’s not on so I guess I will just play with myself. The winds start to howl and I know the storm is almost here. I shut all of my windows and get into bed, excited for the day ahead of me. I wake up with some water on me, “I must have just been sweating” I thought to myself, but no. I looked around my room to see puddles everywhere. “Ahhh I should have closed my dang windows,” I mumble, still half asleep. I hop out of bed and grab all the things I need before going out. The house was cold and dark. The only noises to be heard were: The wind, the rain, and the countless generators that scream all day long. I’m not lucky enough to have a generator so that is probably why I like hurricanes so much. A little stop in time, not having to worry about anything but survival. I arrived in the kitchen to see my mom and dad huddled next to our fireplace.

“Good morning Clark!” my mom screams from the fireplace. “Good morning mom, My room got dumped yesterday. I think I forgot to close the window. Sorry”

I say

“Dang it Clark,” she says. “I’ll go clean it up after breakfast.” I pour myself a bowl of cereal and sit at the table. The fumes of the lavender candle infiltrate the cold air that coats my house. I quickly finish my breakfast and head back to my room to get prepared for my day. My feet splash on the damp floor as I reach for my flashlight and bathing suit. I grab all of my things and give one last call to Ricky to make sure he is ready. “Ready to go, dude?” I ask “I was born ready, Clark,” Ricky murmurs from the other side of the phone. I burst out of the front door and immediately got punched in the face by the wind. “Holy crap,” I think to myself. “This is one of the worst winds I’ve seen” My favorite thing about summer hurricanes is that they are very wet and warm. Perfect for land sledding. I and Ricky met at the tennis courts. “There you are! Let’s get to it.” Ricky shouts as we come closer. “I’ve never seen it this bad. This will be a fun one.” I say back. We make our way to the second hole on the golf course which has a huge dip that is perfect for sledding. We stand at the top over the daunting drop-off. We both dive in immediately. One thing about us is that we are way too competitive. We fight over any competition. So there is little babying out between the two of us. We decided to make our way towards the beach to play in the waves. This activity we are about to do is by far the most dangerous we try. We park our bikes and run out to the end of the pier. As we made our way near the end of the pier Ricky saw something weird. “Hey. Did you see that?” Ricky asked. “No, what was it?” I said. “It was someone out here in a black raincoat. I thought no one really came out here during hurricanes.” Ricky said. “They don’t,” I said. We continue to walk thinking it was maybe someone who had the same idea as us. But that seemed to be far from the case. When we made it to the end and got ready to jump in we wanted to see what this guy looked like.

“Hey man.” Ricky said. “What’s a creep like you doing out right now?” Ricky said, trying to get a reaction out of the man. He did just that. After Ricky said this the man slowly turned around to reveal a half-burnt face. Frantically Ricky and I leaped into the ocean out of pure fear. “It’s him! It’s the hurricane killer!!” I shouted. We both frantically started swimming to shore as the killer slowly walked down the pier. We got out of the water and sprinted to our bikes. We both jolt out of there and look back one more time to see where the man was. There he was slowly walking toward the house next to the beach. I did not think anyone ever lived in that house. I stop my bike and yell to Ricky to watch the man. I turn my bike around and slowly ride closer and closer. Once I got within five feet or so I squeezed my breaks and came to a stop. “Hey, Who are you?” I ask. “Jimbo Smith is the name.” the stranger said. “Alright, Jimbo Smith what are you doing just standing out here in a hurricane,” I questioned. “25 years ago my house right down the street burned down. Leaving the marks you see on my face today. After my house burned down no one could bear to really even look at me because of my scar. The one thing I truly ever knew was this ocean. I always felt comfortable near it. So I went ahead and bought this house.” Jimbo said. “I am so sorry for Judging you. I Was told this weird story from my…” “The hurricane killer?” Jimbo asked. “How did you know?” I responded. “You’re not the first group of kids that have run away crying from me,” Jimbo said. There was a bit of an awkward silence. “Why do you only go out in the storm,” I asked. “No one is out to see me and make me feel bad. No one is around during hurricanes. It’s almost a peaceful time for me.” Jimbo said. “I’m going to go inside now. It was nice to meet you” Jimbo said as he walked up to his steps. I stood there in awe wondering what had just happened. Waves of emotions surged upon me as I felt bad but also relieved. I was left outright speechless. But, from then on I realized that people on this earth don’t have it as easy as I do. So every hurricane I made a promise for me and Ricky to knock on Jimbo’s door first. Not as a prank or a ding dong ditch. But to be his friend and be with him during the storm. “Hey, Ricky what’s up,” I said after picking up the phone. “Want to go to Jimbo’s house?” Ricky said. “Yes. Yes, I would like that.”

Charlie Coutts ’23