The Dust Devils
They had just returned home from the doctor's office when they saw the whirlwind. Earl's hands were crippled with arthritis, and he steered with his wrists and knuckles, unable to grip the wheel. Helen was worried, wondering how much longer he would be able to drive, whether they would be in a wreck. She had been trying to pursuade him to sell what was left of the farm for years now, but he kept stubbornly hanging on.
It was dark by the time they got back. Earl stopped at the mailbox before pulling into the drive. He turned on the dome light as Helen examined the mail.
"Anything good?" he said, "Anything from the kids?"
"Christmas cards. There's one from Mary."
Earl pulled in the driveway and shifted into park with the heel of his hand. He pawed the door handle and climbed out. The wheelchair was in the trunk. It took him five minutes to fumble it out and lower it to the ground. He brought it around and Helen pulled herself up, gripping the open door and the roof of the car to pull herself into a crouching shaky stand, then falling into the wheelchair.
"What's that?" she said.
Earl turned to see the whirlwind, in the dead cornfield behind the house. It was filled with cornstalks and leaves and bits of paper and dust, glowing in the moonlight. It was huge, nearly a tornado, although the stars shone above with perfect clarity.
"That's a sign of hot, dry weather," Earl said slowly, "I never heard tell of one in winter. Or at night."
It approached them and hesitated, drifting from side to side in the back yard as though considering the house. It was then that they heard the sound of it, a murmuring beneath the rustle of dry leaves and dust, many voices fighting to be heard.
"It's full of evil spirits," Helen said.
Earl nodded. They stood watching it a long time, until their toes were numb with cold.
Finally, the whirlwind circled the house, narrowly missing the old couple and their car. It lifted a few shingles off the deserted chicken coop in the back yard, then swirled across the yard to collide with the house and disappear. There was the sharp report of doors slamming inside, and the house was filled with shrieking and laughter. Clusters of flashing sparks like fireflies moved from window to window as though peering out.
"The house is evil now," Earl said.
They stood there awhile longer, shivering.
"Earl, I'm cold."
He nodded. He got behind her wheelchair, and then, since there was no place else to go, they went inside.
Copyright 2002 by John Clinbrohf. Permission is granted to print single copies of this story to read or share with others. The story may not be altered in any way, and must include this copyright notice.
