The wrath of nature lighting up the night sky
Mom’s 24 hour Cafe in Altus was the concluding gig for some members of the Rythm Tamers Band after playing the Pink Elephant or Colony Club. The band found the name of the pleasant elderly lady behind the counter, who everyone addressed as Mom, was very fitting. Most often the band members would enjoy breakfast, including Mom’s famous “Sop’in gravy”, before beginning their highway travel. It was nearing 3:30 a.m., the weather remaining stormy, tornado watches having been in effect thru most of the night. Guitarist Jerry Willis having made a decision to travel home to Frederick instead of returning to Lawton, providing Gary could determine a means of transportation. The Pianist concluding with the rain abating, he could thumb a ride at the junction, four miles east of town, where Jerry would turn south towards Tipton and Frederick.
Disembarking at the Junction, watching as the tail lights of Jerry’s recently purchased Ford Convertible faded from view. Gary taking notice, the wind beginning to gather some momentum and a rumbling in the distance, the sound of thunder giving notice of another approaching disturbance. Confident of thumbing a ride, the only destination of consequence traversing east on highway 64 was Lawton and with a presumed certainty, he knew that availability would soon appear.
Across the highway standing solitude was the remains of a once proud service station, its reason and purpose forgotten, the pumps long ago removed, a shattered building still erect, standing watch over its domain. On the corner by the station rested a derelict wooden wagon, standing barren, its tongue affixed, hounds still fastened, a reminisce of a by-gone era, yet still baring witness to reality. The night sky suddenly coming alive, a crackling, the forked spears of lightning cresting the shadowed clouds with their transient illumination. A blue flash, a bolt having struck nearby, the atmosphere vibrating with a thunderous sound, a wind filled gust, blatant movement being disclosed, the regal wagon regaining its heritage and beckoned before the wind to signal its display of esteem.
Sequestered on the highway, the rain once again resuming the night sky a showplace, natures caliber on exposition, the figure still awaiting passage east but to no avail, then twice the approaching glow of headlight, but traversing west the direction he had departed from. The volley from the heavens descending its fury with rapture, the musician scurrying, seeking shelter, the relic from the past, the remnants of the gas station according hospitality, an asylum from the liquid profusion. The structure shuttered with the gale, the sky perforated with suffused streaks of radiant spears, the resolute wagon continuing to stay its post, the scene finally broadcasting a conclusion.
Another hour having advanced and again oncoming headlights, but as before approaching from the east, a quick decision made to acknowledge an excursion back to Mom’s Cafe. Once again at the cafe, the ascendancy of sunrise finding Gary having no difficulty securing transportation to Lawton. ‘Mother nature having indelibly inscribed a lasting presentation.
Inquisitive Quest 
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