An Orphan After A Storm

An Orphan After A Storm: Day 2

April 7, 1935

Early the next morning, after a small serving of potatoes for breakfast, I sat on the porch to watch Beth run and play. The potatoes had been so thickly mixed with dust, I couldn't even remember what food tasted like without dust. It had been about spring two years ago since it got really bad. I hadn't had fresh food or water in weeks. Everything was so thickly engulfed in the musty grime, it was almost repulsive.

I guess I had zoned out, because before I knew it, my father was shouting for us to take cover inside the house. I ran in to start plugging up the cracks and crevices of the walls. Thinking everyone was securely inside, I closed the door. A sudden, horrifying realization came to me when I looked out the window. Due to the fact that I had neglected the responsibility of supervising Beth, she had been too far away to hear my father holler at us. As I was fiddling with the door handle, my father also saw what was wrong.

"No matter what happens, stay here," He pushed past me, flung the door open, and darted to where Beth was happily digging in the dirt. In absolute distress and helplessness, I stared at the 7,000 foot wave of dust and rubbish about to envelope the remaining members of my family. I knew I shouldn't try to help, and even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to. My feet felt glued to the ground. I felt an immense fear encompass my entire being, sealing the imminent fate of my future. Pa and Beth were going to die. I was going to die.

With despair, I could hardly watch as the wave came over my Pa, sprinting as fast as his legs would allow, back towards the house. Beth was in his arms, crying and screaming. They became one with the sea of dust. There was nothing I could do about it, but I could save myself. I mustered all my courage and slammed the door closed with all my might. I threw myself underneath the table, gripping to its old wooden legs.

For two hours, I held back the boiling tears. My stomach felt like it was going burst, but I stayed as still as I could. Finally, the storm passed. Diluted sunlight filtered through the cracked window. When the reality sunk in, a wave of intense emotion washed over me. I felt relieved that I had survived the storm, but the feeling of complete and utter despair was much greater. I couldn't describe the absolute sadness I was experiencing. It felt like a black hole, sucking all positivity away from my life. A total nothingness, a void, where my heart used to be.

I sat on the dusty wood floor and just sobbed. I cried for Ma, and for Pa. For John, Delilah, and Bethany. I shed all the tears I could. Probably thousands. I rested there on the floor, completely still, until the orange sun hung low in the sky. Slowly, and shakily, I rose from the filthy floor. With a deep breath, I told myself I had to be strong. I just had to. I couldn't go against my parent's wishes, even if they were deceased. I knew, that somewhere up in the sky, my whole family were gazing through the hazy screen of dust, watching me, observing my every action and choice.

I slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning. I couldn't get the image of Pa and Beth out of my head. The horrifying scene replayed itself constantly in my head. The look of terror on my sister's face, the look of fear and desperation on Pa's. How on earth was I to live without my family? The empowering words of my parents creeped into my brain, Pa's voice booming, "We gotta stay strong..." and Ma's voice crooning, "You can always do whatever you put your mind to. Just tell yourself that you do believe." I knew that these few phrases were what was going to get me through this hard time.

I was a capable young man, as my mother always said. Tall for a 12 year old, I was already 6'2. I had unruly brown hair and green eyes like young grain seedlings. I wasn't weak at all, with pretty good biceps for my age. Quiet, observant, and I knew who I was. I was James Doyle Royce, and I was going to survive this drought. I had always looked up to my brother, John, and I wanted to be like him.