When travelling in America and it is one's first visit to Florida, it is advisable to consult the projected weather forecast. I did just that in '97 and arrived at Orlando executive airport on a fine April morning. The obligatory car hire sorted (all visitors are told they can't go anywhere in Orlando without one) I dumped my luggage in the hotel room and followed the receptionist's directions to the nearest giant shopping mall. She'd given me a brochure which had a map of the building and assured me there were lots of bargains to be had, so I set off to buy presents and mementos.
It was now four in the afternoon and I was exhausted. I was stacked to the gunnels with packages and bags of all sizes. I trundled towards the exit nearest to my car park, eager to get back to the hotel and have a shower and a snooze before the evening meal. As. I got nearer to the exit the path to it was clogged with people standing about. I wove around them as best I could, like an overweight ballerina learning a new routine. My baggage got stuck between me and the round behind of someone bending over a pram. The Americans are big people and some are wide too. I came to a reluctant halt and dropped my purchases at my feet, suddenly drained of the reserves which had kept me going.
"Excuse me," I said to the owner of that ample bottom, as she straightened up sharply and gave me a stern look, "Sorry I startled you but do you know what the problem is?"
She was quite small by American standards but she made up for it in width. She wore a self-patterned magenta scarf, bandeau style, tied to one side of her head with a floppy bow. Lipstick and nail varnish matched the scarf with astonishing accuracy as if they had all been dipped in the same paint pot. Her crinkly hair stood straight up and out as it grew and made her face look even rounder than it already was.
"Why girl, ain't you heard? That door boy there's just given a tornado warning."
"You ain't allowed to go through for your own safety. It's heading for us, he says. Tampa to Daytona Beach via Macey's shopping mall. That's what the boy says."
 This last piece of information was given with a confident smile by the owner of the pram. She was even stouter than her friend and was dressed in a luminous apricot that played lyrically with her dark brown skin tones.
"Tornado" I said stupidly as my brain did a rapid replay of the advice I'd been given; when it was, and when it was not, a good time to visit Florida.
"Ah, tu'll be a fluke. Ain't tornado season til June. This'll be a warm up so's we be ready when the big 'uns come. See." Magenta said with an omnipotent nod of her head.
With this assurance ably delivered, the weather was promptly dismissed and they got down to the important discussions of the day.
"What you hidin' in them there bags?" Asked Apricot as she pushed what smelled like a lump of sausage or something similar into the depths of the pram. The titbit was gratefully received, for the howling that had been a constant accompaniment to the discourse suddenly stopped. One by one Magenta opened her carrier bags and presented at least seven voluminous tops which she fixed in turn onto her front like one of those cardboard dolls which you can dress in different paper outfits by slotting tabs on its shoulders.
"Hay, woman. Aint that somethin'." Apricot suddenly snatched a silver lame halter neck off Magenta's rippling bosom and put it over her head so it hung down her front on its own.
"What you think? Suits me don't it." She started to parade round the pram. "Can a wear it Friday night?"
Magenta looked as if she needed more time to think and she got it. The door boy, who must have been nearing sixty, called for attention.
"Hi everyone. Here's the latest from our head office. The met boys are in full swing. Everybody's to keep their heads down. It's just passed through Kissimmee and its heading straight for us. I'll keep you all posted folks."
The news hit the pit of my stomach like a bad attack of indigestion. Magenta and Apricot greeted this latest news with a shrug then continued with their debate. Apricot did a shimmy in the silver top which she'd tied at the back whilst the door boy had been talking. When the stage was hers she said,
"This little number just ma style. Ah come on. Let me wear it. I'll let you wear ma lacy bolero. Don't look so dumb. You know you been eyein' it for weeks."
"O.K., o.k. you wearing me out wi your squawkin' woman." Magenta conceded with a pout. She looked my way though, and I saw the twinkle of anticipation in her eye. They were happily rummaging through each other's shopping when the door boy clapped his hands and the assembled fell silent.
"Up date on the twister folks. She's a big un. Still coming for us. So everybody on the floor please. Keep as far as poss from the doors. We got about five minutes."
There was a buzz of muffled conversation as people seated themselves into little huddles on the white marbled floor. I thought it was a pointless exercise. If the tornado struck we'd all go with it whether we were sitting or standing, but I was the only person not preparing and felt drawn into the ritual, so I sat down next to the two women.
"What we gonna do wi Leroy junior?" asked Magenta.
"We takes im out of that there pram an puts it upside down on top of him." Apricot said knowledgeably.
"A little breeze 'ull blow that away. Its just so light weight." Magenta argued.
"It won't blow away that easy if you sits on the 'andle and I sits on the wheels."
With this plan agreed Apricot pulled out of the pram the cuddliest ball of a chocolate box baby you'd ever wish to see. His fat curls were stuck moistly about his head and glistened with the sweat of his exhaustive crying. Tiny tears still clung to his curly lashes, but he looked triumphant as he was drawn into the light, as if he knew that anyone who saw those tears would want to kiss them away.
Everyone was organised in their selected places and looking through the huge panel of glass doors as if they were watching a giant TV, when the tornado struck. It didn't actually hit the building but it passed close enough, and threatened to scare that morning's breakfast out of me. The funnel proper was about half a mile away, churning and sucking all in its path then spitting out debris like a nightmarish combined harvester.
All sorts of missiles kept hitting the doors and every time this happened the door boy shouted something reassuring.
Wham... "Don't worry folks, this building's tornado proof!"
Bang... "Don't worry folks; these doors were specially built to withstand a bomb blast!"
Twang... "Don't worry folks, this is the tenth near miss since it was built and we've never had any damage."
Maybe he knew the buildings worth but I and the rest of the crowd were played like a voiceover, screaming when something hit the doors and gasping with relief when the doors held their ground. The biggest missile to land on the doors was a car. It leant at a crazy angle as if it were trying to drive up them.
"Anybody own a bright yella Buick. It's come to pick you up." Joked the door man.
At this remark Magenta looked alarmed and shook Apricot who was kneeling on the floor with her head in the gap at the side of the pram. I'll never know if she was doing this to console the baby, to say a private prayer, or out of sheer fright.
"Hay gal. Ain't that your Buick?"
Apricot's braided head came out of hiding. She gave a nod of confirmation and for the first time in my acquaintance was speechless.
"You better get your bags packed. Your Leroy sure gonna be mad when he sees the state of that there car. Hasn't he told ya not to park in a shopping mall cus folks don't care if they scratch ya wheels."
There was a further silence whilst Apricot adjusted her skirt which had ridden up, and then she let out a triumphant squawk as she remembered something quite significant.
"Ahhh. A paid fur insurance wi ma Christmas bonus." Apricot suddenly stood her full height and grabbed hold of Magenta's arms. "Paid full, top-notch, swanky, platinum insurance, I did" She beamed a brilliant smile. "Know what? That there car's tornado proof."
The women were now both standing. They were squealing, laughing and hugging each other. Apricot hoisted Leroy Junior out of his tornado shelter. The two women held him between them and did a little jig around the pram. It was just what was needed to break the awful tension which had gripped us all.
Assignment — the use of weather as a dramatic backdrop 1573 words
|
