Page 123 of The Only Seconds that Matter
Victor struggled to find his voice.“What do you meangone?”
“I mean reduced to sticks.The whole damn thing.”
“Fucking Christ, Johnny.I’m driving over there now.”Victor pulled a U-turn and took off down the opposite lane, stomach in his throat.Fuck.Goddamn.
“Ain’t nothin’ to be done, really.”Johnny’s voice was soft and defeated, like he was close to tears.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, okay?We’ll figure it out.”
Johnny didn’t respond, so Victor assumed he’d hung up.But after a long silence, he spoke again.“You know, I ain’t that religious, but maybe God is tryin’ to tell me somethin’.”
“Like what?”
“I been tryin’ to figure that out.”
Victor didn’t know what comforting thing he could possibly say, so he resorted to practicality, which probably wasn’t what Johnny needed but it was the best Victor could do.“Do you want me to call your sister?Sarah, maybe?”Victor paused.“Are your sister and Taylor alright?”
“Yeah, her house is fine.”Johnny sniffed.“Maybe call Sarah.”
“I’ll do that.Okay?I’m here for you.We’re going to figure it out.”
“Yeah,” Johnny replied, then hung up.Victor gripped the wheel of his truck tight, squinting in the sunlight.The sky had turned bright blue again, as if nothing had happened.That was the nature of disaster though—the world moved on, even if you didn’t.
* * *
Johnny’s house had in fact been obliterated—lifted up, tossed, and torn to sticks.All his belongings were strewn across his property, as well as the next one over, and probably further than that.When Victor looked at the news, he saw aerial footage of what the tornado had left behind, and it wasn’t pretty.It had been big—not exceptionally so, but nothing to scoff at.If Johnny had lived in a solid brick house, it might have survived, but trailers and tornadoes didn’t mix, and Johnny’s had been old and fragile already.It didn’t stand a chance.As they picked through the wreckage, all Victor could think of was how thankful he was that Taylor had run away.Because if she hadn’t, Johnny might have beenhere, and he might have been killed.Unlike Victor, he had no storm shelter.
Johnny was shut down and cold the few hours Victor and Sarah spent with him.He was still in shock.Victor was able to find several of his rodeo trophies still intact, even if others had been bent or crushed.It was a small thing, but Victor knew how fondly Johnny looked back on his rodeo days, and how their rescue might bring comfort.After Sarah and Victor had already picked through the mess, Johnny’s sister showed up.She yanked Johnny into a hug with uncharacteristic warmth, then started crying—also unusual for her.Johnny didn’t cry though.Victor wished he would.He hated to see Johnny’s face so devoid of expression.
Once it got dark, there was nothing more that could be done.All three of them offered to let Johnny stay with them.Victor half-expected Johnny to go with Sarah, since he slept over at her place after their argument.But he accepted Victor’s offer instead, and as the last vestiges of sunlight faded from the sky, Johnny’s truck trundled along behind Victor’s on the way to Victor’s farm, where horses still needed to be fed before Victor could collapse into bed.To his surprise and some dismay, Johnny offered to help, as Hannah was still MIA and there were twenty-nine horses in need of care.He also had a slew of text from boarders asking if their horse was okay, some asking if they could visit to see for themselves.
All in all, it was one hell of a day.Victor didn’t make it back into his house until ten, which is around the time they got power back.Johnny took a shower, then sat on the couch and stared blankly ahead.Victor knew that the painting hanging there wasn’t that interesting.So Victor rounded the couch, sinking into it slowly like Johnny was an easily startled deer.
“How are you holding up?”Victor asked.
“Still feel like this is some kinda dream.”Johnny curled a knee up onto the couch, holding his foot with both hands.“That was the place I grew up in.And it’s just… gone.”He looked down at his lap.“How am I supposed to feel about this?”
Victor didn’t know what to tell him.It was hard find the words when someone else was suffering, so all he could do was reach out and squeeze the back of Johnny’s neck, hoping he derived some comfort from touch in the same way Victor did.
“Picked the wrong time to stop drinkin’,” Johnny muttered with a bit of a strangled, halfhearted laugh before he bowed his head and inhaled shakily.“Goddamn.Goddamn.”
“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to,” Victor said.
“After what I said and did to you?”Johnny’s head turned and wet, anguished eyes met his.
“We can talk about all that, but I’m not going to throw you out for it.”
“You don’t gotta if you don’t wanna.I can live with Sarah, maybe.Or my sister for a bit.”
“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.You can accept it without feeling like a burden.”
Johnny forced a laugh again.“You sure got me figured out, huh.”His lower lip wobbled for a second before he turned away, shoulders hunched.“Fuck.It’s all been too much.”
Victor considered leaving him to it—just getting up and walking off and letting Johnny sleep off some of the shock before facing it head on tomorrow, but he also wanted to sit there and share the burden of Johnny’s grief without feeling the need to run from it.Diego had been one of those men who wanted tofixthings instead of letting Victor be sad in his presence.Loss was hard to see someone else go through, but there was no lever Victor could pull to make it better.
“It’s probably for the best, in the end,” Johnny muttered, never one to let silence stretch on.“It was all a bunch of crap in that place anyway.”
“It was your life,” Victor said, rubbing a thumb through the hair on Johnny’s nape.“It meant a lot to you.”
