The Perfect Storm

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I was awoken to what sounded like a large bell ringing in a low tone. As if it were being muffled by water as it submerged into the sea. Arousing, I realized that the bell was in fact a new hanging chair I recently bought from a neighbour. It was swinging from its chain and hitting against the glass of our upstairs balcony. Once fully awake, I realized that the winds were quite strong and that I had better remove the chair to prevent any damage. Reaching for something to put on, I grabbed my wife’s wolf motif blanket. Wrapped in the security of that wolf, I kissed my wife on the cheek and set off.

 

I slid open the balcony door just a crack and the bitter cold wind howled past my still moistened lips giving me a chill down my spine. Noticing that the wolf had stood fast wrapped tightly around my body like a mummy, I mustered all my courage and flung the door open wide. I knew the risks of passing through the door. Just the other night I was drenched by a sudden waterfall as my rooftop disembowelled on my unsuspecting body breaking the peaceful pleasures of the lighted ship parade.

 

Bracing myself for the worst, I realized I could barely breathe. It may have been the anxiousness of the moment or the torrent winds taking my very breath away or perhaps just the remnants of a hang-over from the previous night's activities. Guided by a light rope, I fought the winds and pushed my way past the patio table until I reached the hanging chair. Swinging like the gallows of days gone by I was reminded of what a brave act I was performing and how the consequences could in fact have grave results.

 

I hadn't noticed that my bare feet were gripping fast on the deck floor due the graces of a lost seagull who had landed there earlier that day. Possibly due to stress of feeling caged on the deck that he could not escape or perhaps divine intervention, he had emptied the contents of his stomach all over my deck floor. I eased my way around the carnage, and grabbed the top of the chair. With a single thrust I managed to disconnect the neck of the chair from its still body. As quickly as I came, I returned to the warmth and safety of inside. I thanked the wolf for being by my side and for cleaning my feet.  

 

But then it hit me. Perhaps the swinging chair was actually what I had first heard – a warning bell alerting me to danger. There must have been some other purpose for it’s ringing. I pressed my face to the large window upstairs that overlooks my neighbours’ float home, and for a moment couldn’t register what I saw. Or rather, what I didn’t see. Their home wasn’t in its spot. Instead, it was cast out and away from the dock as if ready to lift anchor and head out on a voyage.

 

Not wasting any time I threw on my shoes and quickly grabbed my boat pole. I raced dock-side and tried to pull the mighty beast in. But I didn't have the strength. He was too strong for me and each time I gained an inch the wind roared with laughter and swung the float home out some more. Realizing this was a David and Goliath tale, it dawned on me that perhaps I could outsmart that beast. What if rather than just one David I awoke my other neighbour who was also named David? Surely, two David's beat one Goliath. I had my plan - awaken David #2 and together we would slay the angry giant.

 

With trigger-like speed, Dave grabbed a rope and I jumped on to the float home to secure the rope to the small handrail about one third of the way up the house. It was like we had grabbed a leg but the arms were still flailing wildly. We managed to pull the beast in when the winds took a breath and the arms could be re-secured.

 

The pause in the winds was brief, as they quickly resumed battering force. Three ropes previously lashed to the corner were severed, snapping like a 6lb. test line when you finally snagged that trophy 60lb. salmon. Dave remembered a left-over rope on another dock and ran to retrieve it while I threw stones at the giant and his wretched collaborator the wind.

 

After what felt like an eternity, it was a welcome site as Dave rounded the corner of our dock with rope in hand. We began to draw in our ropes in order to subdue the mighty beast. Dave in his enlightened brilliance began to howl to the wind, as if to intimidate it. Shouting the names of the home’s occupants, the front door quickly burst open and we welcomed the needed help. A second rope was secured, this time around the waist of the beast, and finally he was subdued. We tied a third rope and then a fourth. Finally, Goliath gave up and was calm, heaving in the water, out of breathe from the battle.

 

Feeling somewhat triumphant, we thanked each other and said our good-nights even though the night was long gone and the morning was on its way. While laying in my bed, willing myself back to sleep, I thought about how great it was living in our community, knowing that together we have the strength of an army and the ability to conquer giants.

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