Tornado

         Mount Carmel was a wonderful gated community. It was the epitome of aloof perfection. The lawns were mowed in immaculate diagonals. The bushes were trimmed. The outside of the houses were clean and all the blinds were closed.

         Mr. And Mrs. McCarty were delighted at their new house and their new neighborhood. Their son and their dog were excited at the move as well. The family got out of the car as soon as it drove up the driveway, and began hurrying back and forth from the house to the car, carrying things, looking all about. Their large dog kept jumping up and down and barking at nothing in particular.

         "You'd think they've never seen a house before!" said Mrs. Barker disdainfully, peering out the window of her house across the street. "And that old car with all those dents and that rust! It's amazing they even let it in here." She shook her head and wrinkled her nose.

         "Mom! Mom! MA!" The yell was muffled by distance. It came from upstairs.

         Mrs. Barker spun around and glared at the ceiling. "If you want something, Fred, come down and talk to me like a human being!" she yelled back.

         "BUT MOM! I'M HUNGRY!" her son bellowed. Mrs. Barker rolled her eyes and walked off, stepping on a pile of laundry and nearly falling over a pile of Playskool toys on her way, leaving her observation of the new neighbors for another time.

*~*~*~*~*

         The first sign of destruction was picked up by the eagle eyes of Mrs. Barker. A single pile of dirt, a brown stain on an otherwise unsullied green lawn, appeared in just one week after the new family moved in. Beside the pile of dirt was a three-inch wide hole in the ground. Mrs. Barker's gasp was audible for an entire two blocks.

         The incident was the cause of much debate.

         "George, we can't have this kind of thing in our neighborhood!" cried Mrs. Barker, stumbling over some Legos, a Tonka truck, and a stray wireless Xbox controller in her rush through the front door and into the kitchen. Her husband sat at the table, drinking a soda and finishing some work on his laptop. He glanced up at his wife who came to stand over him, and grab his shoulders in earnest. "We must do something!"

         "What happened, Arrie?" he asked with a sigh. He didn't look up from his laptop. He was used to this sort of thing, certain that his wife was overreacting to something, as usual. "Did Arther or Fred mouth off to you again?"

         "No, George, no." She sat down next to him, one hand still on his shoulder, and quickly told him what had happened.

         His gasp was audible throughout the house.

*~*~*~*~*

         The second sign of destruction was even worse. It was early Tuesday morning, when Mr. Barker and Mrs. Barker were just about leave for work. The night before, all the garbage cans had been lined up at the ends of driveways for garbage pickup. The trash man hadn't been around yet. And there, at the end of the Barker's perfectly straight blacktop driveway, was their two garbage cans. And both were knocked over. Trash was everywhere. The houses next to them, on their right and on their left, and across the street where the new neighbors lived, had the same devastation.

         "What could have caused this?" shrieked Mrs. Barker. Mr. Barker just shook his head, his eyes wide with shock.

*~*~*~*~*

         The third and final sign of destruction was like nothing the community had ever experienced. It wasn't a visible sign of destruction; no, for this quiet and peaceful neighborhood, it was much, much worse.

         It was three in the morning when the noise began. What started it, no one could tell. It might have been a rabbit, running in the night. It might have been a cat that escaped out a window or an unlatched door. Whatever it was, the resulting noise was horrific. The bays, the howls, the barking!

         Across the community, sleeping families were jolted awake. Babies cried, parents rolled out of bed. Mrs. Barker rubbed her eyes red as she staggered out her bedroom door and down the hallway. The barking never let up even for a moment. It seemed to get louder and louder. Mrs. Barker never even tried to find the light switch. She began to make her way down the stairs. Suddenly, her foot stepped on a small toy racecar. She never had a chance to change her footing. She fell on her back and painfully tumbled down the entire stairway.

*~*~*~*~*

         Though resting on crutches and still in some pain, Mrs. Barker nonetheless had a smile on her face. Peeking out the front window, she watched as the family, just three weeks after moving in, were packing up their car. Some movers were packing furniture in a truck. This nightmare family was finally moving out.

         "Honestly, I'm glad we're moving." said Mrs. McCarty, frowning. She held a box of miscellany that had never been unpacked. She set it in the trunk of the car and paused a moment to stare at the house across from theirs. Its front curtain moved a little.

         "Me too, Mom." said nine-year-old Billy, coming up beside Mrs. McCarty holding the leash of his giant black dog. The dog panted cheerfully, wholly clueless as to what was going on, but happy to be in the middle of whatever-it-was, regardless. The dog, when standing on his hind legs, would tower over Billy, but the gentle dog would never dream of hurting Billy.

         Mrs. McCarty gave Billy and his four-legged cohort a smile. Billy had named the dog himself, and the two were inseparable friends. "Alright, go up to your room and make sure everything's out of there."

         Billy nodded and walked toward the house. "Come on, Tornado," he said, and the dog followed at his heels.

Word count: 997
Written for "The Writer's Cramp" .