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Show Twisters . . , 53 He looked up at me so bright-eyed and solemn I had to smile. "Isn't he something?" Stacey said with a grin, "I think he likes the ride." And then we were off again. When Arthur yelled "A person could get lost!" a little later, I knew what he meant. With everybody's rubble overlapping, we'd long since lost track of who lived where. At last we reached the corner of Fonda Way and Sand Crane, only to find the intersection there strewn with the litter of Aunt Goldie's house. All she had left was the bottom half of her yellow split-level. Not even that. Most of the lower level had been sheared off, too. Maybe Goldie had lucked out for once, not being home when it happened, I had to remind myself that none of us had lucked out. Not that night. My heart was pounding hard as I leaped over the splintered wood covering Goldie's front yard. We were getting close to Smiley's place, I had stopped being careful by then and was yelling for mom once more, I couldn't get that picture out of my mind . . . her flying through the air . . . she could be buried anywhere, how would we know? Arthur trailed me, both of us leaving Stacey behind. Then I saw Mom's car and my heart quit beating altogether. It was next door in Miss Stevens' yard, a battered wreck wrapped in a length of chainlink fence, "Mom!" I screamed, clambering over everything to get to it. My hands shook wildly as I shone the light inside, over the back seat, across the floor. It was empty. Her purse lay on the front seat covered with broken glass. |