Carl gently handed Ellie off the bus, picnic basket secure in the crook of his other arm and one eye on the threatening clouds on the horizon. So far they were just a smudge of gray and black, and the breeze was still light and sultry, but he had had hopes for a perfect day today. Even the chance of rain could spoil that, not that Ellie seemed to agree.
Looking back over her shoulder, she laughingly told the driver, "Of course we want to get off here; we'll be fine. There's a nice little shelter not far from here if the weather turns. Oh, and the next bus is scheduled in two hours, right? Besides it's a public park. I'm sure some good Samaritan will offer us a lift if we're standing here on the curb looking like a pair of drowned rats. And if that doesn't happen, well, it's only a little water after all. We won't melt!"
She stepped onto the sidewalk, missing the bemused look Carl and the bus driver exchanged. "Okay, lady," the driver said. "Enjoy your picnic."
With a little wave good-bye, Ellie said, "Oh, I'm sure we will." She hooked her arm through Carl's, hugging it close and propelling him toward the gates, having already forgotten the bus and its driver. "Maybe we'll find ourselves a special place somewhere around here. We haven't explored this park hardly at all. And since it's on the outskirts of town, there's a good chance it won't be that busy, or at least not as busy as some of the other parks get on a Sunday."
Mischievously snuggling in as they walked, she added, "I don't know. Personally, I'm hoping that the chance of storms discourages other people from coming out. Not that I mind a crowd, but really," and she squeezed in closer, "I'd like a few private moments with you, scandalous as your parents feel that is. Maybe we can find a spot that's quiet and secluded."
Making a pushing away gesture, Carl expressed very clearly, in his opinion, what he thought of his parents' view on anything. Ellie hugged his arm a little more tightly and laughed. A moment later she saw a bird that she couldn't identify right away and ran after it, Carl following at a more sedate pace, which was very much par for the course for any of their outings, he mused contentedly.
They wound their way over all the marked paths and trails, stepping off from time to time as Ellie's whim and will decreed. While they found several lovely locations, including a tiny vale filled with an abundance of wild-flowers, none tempted her to do more than inspect the site in detail before moving along toward the next discovery. None of them were quite right his purposes, either, and he was beginning to despair of ever finding the best place, let along the best words for what he'd been planning. Eventually they stood on a ridge over-looking most of the park and enjoyed the vista stretching out in front of them, reaching forever it seemed, though Carl knew that it was only to the next county over.
A cool wind washed over him, refreshing after brief the climb up, and he smiled as Ellie opened her arms to it as if it could lift her into flight. His grin died slowly; the wind wasn't the only thing that had changed. The sun was hidden by the heavy clouds that had blown in, giving the day a gray, heavy feel; yet, at the same time, the light had taken on a peculiar cast that lent a too-sharp edge to everything around them.
"Storm's a coming," he said calmly, catching Ellie's hand to lead her to safety.
"Wait a minute! Look! You can see the lightning coloring the clouds in the distance." She held onto him, but refused to be budged. "Can't hear the thunder, yet. Wow! Look at that one. It's like the flash is echoing through the entire bank of them. There goes another!"
Looking around anxiously at the exposed area where they stood, Carl tugged at Ellie's hand again, but then a particularly splendid bolt of lightning fractured over the horizon, drawing a gasp of wonder from him. Despite his unease, he was soon as lost as Ellie was in Nature's pyrotechnic display, leaning into the currents of air that buffeted them now and again.
It took the first sharp crack of thunder overhead to bring him back to earth and the danger inherent in standing in a storm, and this time he would not be denied when he pulled Ellie down the hill. He kept an eye out for cover as they went, listening with half an ear to her excited chatter about different kinds of hazardous weather and growing more worried by the second. To his relief the main path led straight to a picnic shelter in a small stand of trees near a pond that was the heart of the park.
"Oh, good," Ellie said happily. "Now we can watch the rain blow through and have a bite to eat at the same time. Food always tastes better when there's a show to go with it. Besides, I worked up quite an appetite getting to the top of that hill. Want to have dessert first? I made an apple pie for us and I actually managed to escape the house with the entire thing intact."
"Mmmm," Carl said noncommittally, a slight grin forming. Ellie had many talents, but so far, cooking hadn't proved to be one of them.
She giggled in answer, admitting as much herself. "Don't worry. Auntie made the meatloaf for the sandwiches."
Carl couldn't help a grimace; he suspected Ellie's aunt, who had raised her, was the reason she wasn't much in the kitchen. Her meatloaf was proof positive of that.
Laughing outright, Ellie took the basket from him and raced ahead, spinning once or twice in answer to the mad swirling of the breezes. By the time Carl joined her, she had their meal spread out on the nearest table, the ground blanket folded over the bench seat to cushion it. Sitting astride in a most unlady-like manner that let Carl secretly admire the length of leg showing, Ellie took a healthy bite of her sandwich as she handed one to him. Beaming at her in approval because it was his favorite and not the meatloaf she'd threatened him with, he sat on the other end so that he could face her while they ate and they could both look out from under the pavilion and watch the oncoming tempest.
Before too long, though, they were caught up again in the fury swarming toward them, amazed at the speed and contortions of both the clouds and the lightning. The thunder came fast and hard in heavy blows that hurt the ears and struck at the bone without touching the skin. The rain, when it hit, hit suddenly. The only warning was a hint of mist in the air, then the skies opened up in a deluge of biblical proportions.
It splattered onto the concrete skirts of their refuge, splashing hard enough to drench the floor for several feet. Without discussion they quickly gathered together their mostly untouched meal and moved deeper into the shelter. It wasn't enough. The next gust of wind carried a full load of the driving sheets which was more than strong enough to reach completely across the small area under the roof.
Soaked through to the skin, Carl peered through the near-solid curtain from the downfall, more than a little alarmed at the intensity of the storm. The thunder was darned near constant, now, and the lightning shattered and reformed the sky from one breath to the next, with the clouds releasing a burden of water that could have come from Niagara Falls. Worse of all was the hurricane-force gale that bent trees down to the ground as if they were grass.
With the realization of the very real possibility that the picnic shelter might be pulled to pieces by the wind or shattered by a falling tree, Carl hustled Ellie to the center pillar in hopes of gaining a fragment more protection thanks to its substantial size and weight. She went willingly enough, shouting in elation at the blasts of light and noise and trying to look everywhere at once. For a split second he considered pressing her face-first into the pillar and wrapping himself around it and her, but he didn't need to actually hear her protests to know they would come if he did. Instead he planted both feet as solidly as his sturdy frame would allow, dug his shoulder blades into wood of the support, and hung onto her with all he had as the storm battered them.
To his amazement he found himself crying out in triumph and delight with Ellie as they endured what the elements threw at them. Occasionally he caught a portion of a word from her as she yelled, but all he truly understood was her excitement, her absolute fearlessness, and her joy that she shared the weather's madness with him. It made him fearless and proud in return, despite the icy cold from being so thoroughly wet and wind-torn.
He was almost disappointed when the lull came, as they sometimes could during a tempest. Wiping a shaking hand over a face graced with an ear-to-ear grin, he stretched in place, well-aware he was going to be sore tomorrow from pushing so hard into the wooden column. Ellie bent over at the waist, breath whooping a little as she shivered from both the chill and nerves.
"Oh," she gasped, "I can't wait to hear what Auntie has to say when I come home looking like I jumped into an ocean and swam for South America. Thank heavens we made it here on time or we would have been blown there and spared the airplane tickets." She lovingly patted the beam that had done its best to protect them. "In a crazy way this reminds me of the club house we had when we were kids: ramshackle, but ours."
Her tone changed slightly to something wistful and yearning. "I miss that house. I don't see why that family bought it if all they were gonna to do was fix it halfway, then quit." Ellie managed pixish smile. "I know the neighborhood kids are playing in it, now. Maybe we should try to reclaim it from them."
It was the perfect cue, sparing him from trying to find words for the many confusing, wonderful, overwhelming feelings she always roused in him. Carl reached into his pocket and pulled out the small velvet-lined box he'd been carrying all day. He opened it and showed the matching rings inside to her. "Maybe we should. Explorers need a home base, after all. Even Muntz has his Spirit of Adventure."
Screaming deliriously Ellie leaped on him, arms in a strangle hold on his neck. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes...."
He didn't try to tell her that he'd saved every penny he could earn for as long as he could remember, working every odd job that came along, or that his parents had told him point blank that if he married now, there would be no further schooling, let alone any money help for him and his so-called wife. He didn't say anything about her working until they were blessed so that they could afford the repairs on the house.
He just held on tight and silently thanked every holy thing that she was willing to go on this adventure with him.