Max was ready to insert his cameo cuff links into his French cuffs. A dazzling bolt of lightning lit up the room. Thunder rumbled, shook his 3500 square foot rancher. He sat down on his bed and waited for the oncoming rain to wash out his gala evening. With the storm breaking he couldn’t call Tess to tell her he’d be late. His mother’s ghost would never let him go. ‘Sonny, don’t use the phone when it is lightning. Stay away from windows. Don’t use the tap or bathe.’ Tess knew his fetishes and wouldn’t expect his call.
The wooden slats on his windows were closed tightly yet each bolt let danger leak in. He sat erect, hands on his knees, his eyes squeezed shut. No question, the almost fearless Max, shook. Calm came to the skies and to him.
Tree limbs cluttered the brick road, made him extra careful dodging the big ones. The delayed setting sun tossed a beautiful arcing rainbow across his path. It was too wondrous for him to let it slip through his fingers. The bike lane invited him to pull over, stop and make a wish. A teen, on a shiny just washed bike, came close enough to scratch Max’s Jag. Lucky, lucky this time. The sure damage didn’t happen. As the young boy pedaled past the car window, he tapped on it, gave Max the finger and scrammed.
Tess saw the Jag’s headlights coming up her driveway. She was already pissed off but didn’t dare open the door for until Max gave his usual lucky three knocks. No kiss, no hug, just a glare and a question did she have for him. ‘Why the devil didn’t you call me? You knew I would be waiting.’ ‘Aw, common, Tess,’ he stuttered. ‘You, you, you know very well I don’t go out when lightning is within seeable distance. Remember that mail man two weeks ago who stepped in a puddle of water on his rounds? You know, the one who became toast? Well, I’m not going to be next. You want an apology? I’ll give you one. I’m sorry. Carl will hold our table for us.
Ready?’ He got another cold glare from Tess. ‘Good evening, Sir. Glad you made it. Your table is ready. As you can see that storm has kept many of our customers away. Enjoy your dinner.’ Service was impeccable. Dinner, as usual, delicious except for Tess’s poached salmon. She said it needed a little salt, reached for it and knocked the shaker on the floor. A passing waiter picked it up and returned it to our table. Tess was about to sprinkle it on her fish when Max startled her. ‘I stopped you just in time. Wait. Shake the salt over your shoulder three times before you use it or bad luck will get you.’ Tess hit the ceiling. ‘Cut out this crap, Max or I’m cutting you out of my life!’ They left without dessert. He didn’t get any when he reached her house either.
Two fire engines were in front of his house. Hoses were over his manicured lawn. The Fire Chief stopped him to explain what was going on. ‘Everything is under control, Mr. Hendrix. A young boy riding his bike called 911 when he saw smoke coming out your broken front window. It looks like you got a jolt of lightning down your chimney. Want us to board up the window before we pull out? You were really lucky. It could have been far worse.’ The trucks left without blaring their sirens.
Max thought over his semi-good fortune. Max also thought there would have been no fire if Tess had shaken the salt over her shoulder. He never told her that.
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