Trixie and her mom were in the car, headed back to Crabapple Farm. It was a hot, muggy day in early June. Much to Trixie's chagrin, she'd had a dental appointment that afternoon and they'd had gone there after lunch. Now as they were driving towards the farm, angry stoem clouds boiled up around them. The rumbles of thunder rolled across the steaming summer landscape. Trixie watched as big, fat raindrops began pelting the windshield. Soon horizontal sheets of rain blew across the road in front of them. Trixie held her breath as her mother fought for control of the car in the fierce winds. At last, Moms made the turn into the driveway of Crabapple Farm and Trixie sighed in relief. Moms parked the car and the two sat and looked at each other, hesitant to step out into the deluge. In addition to the rain, there was the constant crashing of thunder. Lightening flashed, not only in the sky, but also pierced the area surrounding the vehicle. Finally, Moms and Trixie opened their car doors and dashed to the safety of the house. Inside, they found Mart and Bobby sitting calmly at the kitchen table, licking their fingers as they finished off two Crabapple Farm specials. Moms and Trixie wiped the rain water from their dripping arms and legs.
"Kids," Moms gasped, "go make sure all the windows are shut."
Trixie turned to go check the house when Mart stopped her.
"I already did that, Squaw."
"Did you get the window over my desk?" Trixie asked.
Not waiting for a response, Trixie left the kitchen and sprinted up the stairs towards her room. As her feet pounded on the old staircase, she heard Mart yelling that he had indeed shut her window.
Trixie continued into her room to ascertain that the window was closed. As she stood at the side of her curtains, she was mesmerized by the scene outside. The rain pummeled the roof of the farm, the strong winds buffeted the trees, and the house creaked as it resisted the storm's force. Trixie glanced up at the tumultuous clouds above her.
"Moms," Trixie shrieked, "come here, quick."
Moms hurried into Trixie's room alarmed by the sound of Trixie's voice. Trixie pointed out the window at the clouds above the old farm.
"Is that a funnel cloud?" she asked.
Moms took one look at the swirling, green mass above them. She grabbed Trixie's arm and propelled her down the stairs and into the kitchen.
"Mart, grab the dog. Bobby, get up. We need to go now," she ordered as the tornado sirens wound up and started their loud wail. The door to the basement slammed shut as the four tore down the stairs.