Uprooted

It was a warm spring evening in the country home where Beth and Marie shared their lives with dogs, cats, cows, chickens, and many beautiful birds flittering in the trees. Beth sat under a huge oak tree and relaxed after chores were done, animals fed, and the evening light fading. Marie had left that morning with her brother to visit family up north. Beth was planning to catch up at home, with HAM radio operators, spend some quality time fishing in the nearby river, and write a few stories to share with friends.

She wrapped up the evening with some work on a jigsaw puzzle and placed her fishing tackle near the back door. The pets followed her to the bedroom and settled for the night. Beth fell asleep with nostalgic dreams of favorite things.

There was a loud screaming from the HAM radio down the hall around four in the morning. "Mayday, Mayday!" Beth sprang out of bed and stumbled down the dimly lit hallway. It was her friend Vet Gary on the radio, and his message was frantic. He shared news of catastrophe and widespread panic but no information of what the cause was, but something destructive was happening. His message was clear. "Get somewhere safe now!"

Beth grabbed a few necessities and her pets and headed to the safest nearby space she knew--the storm cellar. She thought of Marie traveling and prayed they too would be safe.

A new journey was beginning, and there could be no preparation for unpredictable destruction. Many lives were to be forever uprooted.