Cut to the Chase (18 page)

*

Three hours later, the jet touched down in Oklahoma City. Paige had no idea what the name of the airport was as they taxied to a small building whose sign read
Executive Charter
. Though it was only one o’clock in the afternoon, the cloudy skies were battleship gray. A few droplets of rain tapped against the windows, as if wanting to get her attention.

They deplaned and the pilot confirmed that Avalon had his cell-phone number to contact him for their return. She didn’t give him a time, which intrigued Paige.

A large, black SUV was parked close by and someone who looked like the Marlboro man stepped out. He wore a wide-brimmed cowboy hat, jeans, and a checkered shirt under his brown vest. His scruffy boots looked like they’d seen more than a few cattle drives.

Avalon walked Paige over to him.

“Paige, this is Rusty McNamara. Rusty, this is Paige Cornish.”

He tipped his hat, saying, “Ma’am.” Turning to Avalon, he said, “We’d better get going. I’ve got a good feeling about today.”

He opened the SUV’s back door for them to climb in. As they did, Paige’s curiosity spiked even higher when she saw that the front seat and dashboard were filled with strange-looking equipment that blinked and hummed and hissed of static.

“Okay,” she finally said. “What’s going on?”

Rusty climbed in the car and started the engine.

“You and I,” Avalon said, hardly containing her excitement, “are going storm chasing!”

“What?”

“We’re in tornado alley and Rusty is an expert chaser. He’s also a meteorologist. We’re on the hunt for supercells!”

“Are you serious?”

“You said you’d like to do this one day, and today’s the day.”

“Are you serious?”

Avalon nodded enthusiastically.

“I can’t believe it!”

Christmas had arrived early and she had the best present of all. As she hugged Avalon, Rusty drove out of the airport and they were on their way.

“We’re heading to Elk City, Oklahoma,” Rusty said when they were on the interstate. “The largest tornado there was in 1955. A category F4 blew through, killing two people and injuring eighteen, I believe.”

“Will we see a tornado?” Paige asked.

“It’s not a guarantee, but hopefully we’ll find a supercell.”

Paige felt giddy with anticipation. “How does this work?”

“It’s all about forecasting and trying to understand the inner workings of weather,” Rusty said as he stared at the road ahead of him. Rain began to fall harder and he turned on his windshield wipers. “We study severe weather outlooks, computer model forecasts, and things like that. All this equipment around me here helps with that.” He pointed to things without looking down. “This is my anemometer to measure wind speed, there’s the thermometer, and that hygristor is for taking humidity readings.”

Paige said, “What do you look for?”

“A storm worth chasing will have the right combination of moisture, instability, lift, and wind shear. For the storm that’s forming in Elk City, I’ve been analyzing surface and upper-air data for the last three days. I look to see where the four factors are setting up and where they may shift. As of this morning, I’ve been able to narrow down the data and that’s where we’re heading. I’ll keep watch over the weather maps and satellite pictures on my laptop, but when we get there, the real data ends up in the sky itself. She’ll tell us where to go.”

“And what exactly is a supercell?”

“It’s the presence of a mesocyclone, which is a deep, persistently rotating updraft. It’s a special class of thunderstorms that tend to produce the most and strongest tornadoes. We’re looking for vertical wind shear, which is a change in wind direction and speed with height.”

Avalon snuggled close to Paige. “You are so attractive when you’re curious.”

As they watched lightning flicker on the western horizon, Paige pointed to it. “I imagine running into a tornado is the most dangerous part of storm chasing.”

“Not really. Running into chase crowds is. Those are made up of inexperienced yee-haws who are unpleasant and very hazardous. They drive crazy, park in the middle of the road, and cause a lot of accidents. Lightning is also dangerous, and so is hail. A softball-size chunk of ice can cause some major damage.”

“Do you expect any of those things today?” Avalon said.

“I know how to avoid the chase crowds, but I can’t vouch for Mother Nature.”

A walkie-talkie came to life as a static-filled voice called out some numbers. Rusty picked up the radio and began talking to someone called Bud.

Paige turned to Avalon. “I can’t thank you enough for this. I’m astonished that you did it for me.”

“I’m glad you were open to an adventure.”

“This is more than that. You remembered my crazy dream of storm chasing.”

“I remember all of our talks.”

Paige kissed her, and the sweetness of their touch was more perfect than anything she could imagine. “Aren’t your…people wondering where you are?”

“I told Michele D. and Billy I was going rogue today. I assured them I wouldn’t be around any paparazzi, so they calmed down.”

Rusty signed off the radio. “Well, ladies, a couple of friends of mine are just to the west of us, and they tell me we’re heading in the right direction. If we’re lucky, there could be a convective development within a couple of hours."

“What’s that?”

“It’s the rising or sinking of air. You see, hot air weighs less than cold air, so when both hot and cold air are in the same place, the cold air sinks and the hot air rises. That’s what makes a hot-air balloon float. As hot air rises, it pushes the cold air out of the way. Then it hits more cold air and pushes that down and keeps rising. That’s what’s called a thermal.”

Avalon said, “It sounds like a lot of waiting around.”

Rusty laughed. “It is. But there’s still a lot to see. The skies are always magnificent when they’re active. Keep looking west.” He pointed in the direction they were heading. “When lightning streaks overhead and casts a silver glow across the landscape, that’s called an anvil crawler.”

For the next twenty minutes, they watched in silence. The sky resembled a huge Morse code machine with dots and dashes of lightning punctuating the oncoming darkness. The message was clear that an approaching storm was building. They were starting to get closer and could hear the low rumble of thunder.

A half hour later, the storm was much nearer and Rusty pointed toward the northwest. “Do you see those clouds that have globes hanging down from them? That’s called a cumulonimbus mammatus. They’re a good sign because they can indicate a particularly strong storm, even a tornadic storm.”

“So we might see a tornado after all?”

“Possibly.”

“And look. Up ahead.”

A large white truck, carrying a flatbed that housed a radar, had just turned onto the interstate.

“That’s a DOW, a Doppler on Wheels. They map tornado winds and can analyze tornado structure.”

“So we’re on the right track?” Paige said.

“I’d say we definitely are.”

They passed the Elk City sign and Paige’s excitement grew. She scanned the flat landscape dotted with scrub trees bowing to what must have been fairly strong winds. The rain continued to fall, pelting the top of the SUV in a staccato rhythm that seemed to be tapping out the details of an unfolding electrifying prophecy.

Avalon gripped her arm and they snuggled as close as their seat belts would allow.

Rusty caught up with the Doppler on Wheels and radioed them.

“DOW7447, this is KA4ERO listening on 24.119 Elk City. Copy?”

“DOW7447. Rusty, is that you?”

“I’m right behind you, Phil.”

“Great day for a performance from the heavens.”

“It sure is.”

“We’re turning off at North 1980 and heading toward Beaver Dam Creek.”

“Great minds think alike. We’ve got your back.”

“Great. We could use your noggin.”

“It’s free to you, Phil.”

Rusty signed off. “Their presence in this vicinity is a good thing. We’re going to join forces on this one.”

As they left the interstate, the road became less and less taken care of. She couldn’t see any signs, just a long stretch of barbed wire fences on either side of them. The ride became rough and bouncy as the hard-packed gravel kicked up dust around them. Soon, potholes punctuated the asphalt like Morse code spelling out the words
here we go!

A whirl of excitement coursed through Paige. She thought of her first roller-coaster ride when she was eleven years old. She was with her best friend and they were heading for a corn-dog stand when her friend diverted them to the coaster queue. She’d never considered going on such a monstrous attraction, but with the voices of all her friends ramping up in excitement, she went along with it without thinking about how tall the steel tracks soared above her. It wasn’t until she got in the coaster car and began to ascend that she regretted her spur-of-the-moment decision. She’d never been so scared, thoroughly believing that every drop would be her last and that every turn would be the one that caused the car to jump the tracks, plummeting her to her death. She screamed so loudly that she spent the rest of the day drinking sodas to soothe her sore, raw throat. And while that coaster ride had been her last, she was proud she’d survived it.

Here she was again, following someone to the coaster queue. And she felt proud again. She leaned over and kissed Avalon. “I guess this trip is forcing me to be a little more impulsive.”

“I hope. When we first talked about your fantasy of storm chasing, you said that being impulsive doesn’t come easily to you. I knew if I asked you beforehand, you might think too much about the consequences and not go. So I hope you’ll be glad you did.”

“As long as we don’t end up flying through the air like Dorothy from Kansas, I’ll be fine.”

Avalon looked at her with the same bedroom eyes she’d seen when she photographed her in her room. “Don’t look at me that way or I’ll have to tell Rusty to drop us off at an Elk City motel, and pronto.”

“I just love the way spontaneous looks on you.”

“Does it go with my eyes?”

Avalon kissed her. “Yes. And your lips and your ears, and your…” She strained to bury her head in Paige’s neck but the seat belt made her grunt. “Damn. Backseats aren’t as much fun as they used to be.”

“Well, if there’s a tornado, everyone will be focused on that, so we can stay right here and take care of things.”

Avalon raised her eyebrows dramatically. “You wouldn’t miss the opportunity to see a tornado, would you?”

“Hmm,” Paige said, scrunching her lips together in deliberation. “Difficult decision.”

The truck shook forcefully and Paige jumped. Outside her window, branches and large chunks of green and brown material buffeted the SUV. The rain had let up a bit, but the ferocity of the elements surprised her.

“This is a good place,” Rusty said, and radioed Phil. They concurred, and both vehicles pulled over to the side of the road.

“Be careful when you get out. Watch for flying objects and listen to me. If I tell you to get back into the car, don’t wait to take a few more pictures. Get back in, okay?”

Paige and Avalon nodded.

The wind made it difficult to open the door, but Paige finally pushed it hard and she and Avalon stepped out onto the shoulder. Phil and a couple of other men darted over to them and started talking to Rusty.

The countryside was alive with commotion. Trees swayed in unison and a highway sign shimmied like a drug addict in withdrawal. Squinting against the pelting rain, Paige listened to the sharp whir of wind as it buffeted her ears and foretold the approach of things much more mighty.

Rusty came over to them and pointed up. “That big dark cloud about two or three miles away, right there, is called a cumulonimbus. See the black flat base and extremely high top? The warm air that has risen has met warmer air and can’t go any higher, so the bottom spreads out. The anvil shape is a good sign that we’ll see some spectacular things.”

“The cloud itself is amazing.”

“She’s a beauty, all right. Updrafts are happening inside, and the rain that’s falling is creating a downdraft. The simultaneous presence of both tells us we’re in the mature stage of the storm.” He stopped and stared at the cloud. “Man, the internal turbulence is ripe! Look at the movement!”

The cloud roiled like a magnificent beast reacting to someone stirring it from slumber. Its brute force both mesmerized and frightened Paige.

The wind picked up again and the gusts forced them to sway forward for balance.

They watched it for about forty-five minutes, and Paige and Avalon took pictures on their cell phones. The Doppler guys were in and out of their truck, probably recording information and watching for developments.

“Earlier,” Rusty said, “I talked about using visual clues from the sky. The radar and weather information can get us to a general vicinity, but then we have to actually look for visual clues and,” he said as he pointed again, “that one’s starting to rotate.”

Just then, Phil yelled, “We got rotation!”

Rusty started back toward the car. “Stay right here.”

When he returned, he said, “I’m picking up wind speeds of up to sixty miles an hour. Since visibility is pretty good, I’m going to move us back a bit.” He hollered to Phil and made a jerking motion with his arm. Phil obviously understood because he waved.

Rusty drove them backward a ways and they got back out of the SUV. As they did, the sound of a popcorn machine made Paige and Avalon look around.

“That’s hail,” he said. “Not too big, but it’s another good sign.”

Paige was awestruck. Nothing she’d ever seen on television or the Internet could sufficiently portray what she was feeling. Mother Nature was flexing her muscles and reminding the world that she was in control.

The cloud slowly revolved, seeming to grow larger, and then Paige saw a forelock-type of wisp descend from the bottom.

“Rusty, what’s that?”

“The spinning is pulling the cloud down. That’s the start of a tornado.”

“Holy cow!” Avalon yelled. “That’s freakin’ awesome!”