The Wizard and the Quient

By T. J. Lemmer

Fifteen year-old Thomas Wisby was enjoying summer vacation on a ranch where he lived alone with his mother. He was looking forward to the start of soccer practice a few weeks away, but, he didnt know that his life was about to change, as he embarks on a magical adventure that takes him where only dreams were thought to go. He didnt know what happened to his father, who went missing five years ago, but he was going to find out, and have to come to grips with many things he didnt know, including who he really was and where he truly belonged. To Thomas, magic was only illusions performed by magicians. He was about to discover how wrong he was. There was a place waiting for him, so far removed from his world, that it would be challenging for any normal person to comprehend. But Thomas wasnt normal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Jun 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781490745732

T. J. Lemmer

Thomas Lemmer started writing after his wife asked him why he read so few books. Thomas replied, “I have enough stories in my head to last me a lifetime.” Knowing that Thomas had a wonderful and wild imagination, she asked him to write one of his stories down on paper. So he did. The Wizard and the Quient is Thomas’s first book, and the story doesn’t end there. The magical adventure of Thomas Wisby, the books main character, continues in a second book that is soon to follow.

Book preview

The Storm

A gentle breeze blew through Thomas’s hair as he sat tensely under the apple tree near his parents’ farmhouse on this warm summer afternoon.

His parents’ farm had been in the family since 1909 when his great-grandfather Thomas Jacob Wisby immigrated from Luxemburg and won the land in a horse race; so the story was told. His great-grandfather raised Morgan horses on this land, as did his grandfather Thomas Bane Wisby, who then gave it to Thomas’s father, Thomas Samuel Wisby, as a wedding gift shortly after his marriage to Elli Tormel, his childhood sweetheart, who had lived on the farm just to the west of the Wisby place.

Thomas had been staring at a thunderhead in the distance, watching as the mountain of clouds billowed into the blue sky like a giant rising from its slumber, stretching its massive arms up over its head. He had been sitting in this grassy spot for nearly an hour, and the green apples he had eaten earlier were now sitting heavy in his belly.

Something was troubling Thomas as he watched this storm brewing with a particular interest. Its clouds were now turning dark and threatening as it grew in strength and moved menacingly toward their farm. He knew it would bring welcome rain to the area, but storms also brought the possibility of something else… and it was this . . . that troubled Thomas.

Thomas teetered on being lost in this thought and was now staring, nonseeing, at the storm, a painful memory wrenching at his emotions.

Every time a storm came rolling their way, Thomas’s mind would pull him back to that July day five years earlier when Thomas, along with his father, Sam, as he was called, and his mother, Elli, were all in the barn with the horses.

A storm was brewing, making the horses restless, and the Wisbys were working quickly to secure the stables and calm the Morgans. Thomas was filling the watering troughs, and Elli was putting hay in the cribs, while Sam hammered nails into loose boards on the nearly one-hundred-year-old barn.

Sam grabbed a flashlight from his toolbox as the wind began to whistle through the cracks in the barn. Elli, I’m going to the house to get some more nails, he called from across the barn. He slid the barn door open just far enough to slip through and then sprinted off toward the farmhouse.

When Sam did not return after a half hour, Elli started to worry. She peered out through the partially opened barn door and scanned the barnyard up to the house for Sam. It was starting to rain hard now, and the wind hammered the raindrops against the side of the barn, making it hard to hear anything else. Elli waited a few seconds for a strong gust of wind to subside before yelling out the door, Saaam—Sam, where are yooou? Elli pulled her head back inside and wiped the rain from her face.

Mom, is Dad okay? asked Thomas with a concerned look on his face.

Elli, seeing the troubled look on Thomas’s face, tried to hide her concern. Oh, I think your father just got held up is all, said Elli. She then turned to look worriedly out through a crack in the door. But she knew her husband of twelve years would not have left them alone in the barn with this fierce storm now upon them. It just wasn’t like him.

Come, Tommy, we better go to the house. Quickly now, hold on to my belt, said Elli. Thomas grabbed the back of her belt as Elli slid the barn door open just far enough for the two of them to pass through and closed it, and they both ran toward the farmhouse. Pulling her hat down over her head as the wind grabbed at it, she struggled to make her way against the wind-driven rain, and Thomas, with his head down and a firm grip on his mother’s belt, helped by pushing her along.

When they reached the back door to the farmhouse, Thomas turned to look back toward the barn. He could hear debris hitting its metal roof as the storm intensified. The wind-driven rain tore at them as Elli opened the back door, and they both stumbled through into the kitchen. Elli pushed the door closed, and at that same instant, lightning flashed, followed immediately by a loud clap of thunder. The windows rattled, and the old farmhouse shuddered as the thunder reverberated through its wooden frame. The house fell dark.

Tommy, sit down—don’t move, said Elli in a troubled voice. Sam, Sam, are you in here? Please answer me, she called out nervously, her voice starting to break a little at the thought that Sam may still be outside in the storm. The wind howled, battering the house with debris, as Elli fumbled for the flashlight they kept in the cupboard next to the back door. She glanced out the kitchen window and saw what looked like the roof to the pump house cartwheel by then disintegrate into a thousand pieces as the wind slammed it against the side of the barn. Finding the flashlight, she turned it on. But the light was dim, as she now remembered that the last time they had used it, it needed batteries. "Darn," she said loudly.

Tommy, come with me, said Elli nervously, grabbing Thomas by the hand and pulling him through the kitchen toward the door leading to the cellar. It was open, so Sam had been in here, Elli thought. She pointed the flashlight down into the cellar, but with its dim light, she could barely see the cellar floor at the foot of the stairs. Sam, Sam, please answer me, she cried out. Are you down there? Are you okay?

Elli whipped around as a loud knock at the back door made her heart skip.

Sam, is that you? she called out automatically, her heart beating wildly with anticipation. She swung the dim light toward the back door.

No, it’s me, Pete.

Elli could now see her brother’s face as he turned his flashlight up toward his face so she could see who it was.

Elli closed her eyes and let out a moan of disappointment. Come in, Pete. Please, come in, she yelled over the howling wind and steady rumble of thunder.

When Pete opened the door, the wind rushed in and raced around the kitchen, rattling and moving everything it could, then pushed at the door defiantly as Pete closed it.

Pete Tormel was a big, strong man and was the local sheriff. He lived on the farm where Elli and he had grown up just to the west of the Wisby farm.

Is everyone all right? asked Pete, shining his light toward Elli and Thomas, who were still standing in the doorway leading to the cellar. But the look on his sister’s face answered his question. I saw your lights go out and thought I should make sure you were all okay, said Pete.

Did you see Sam out there? Elli asked, her voice now breaking as she began to cry.

No, I didn’t. Isn’t he here? asked Pete, looking at Elli and Thomas in turn.

No, we were working in the barn, and Sam went to the house to get some nails and didn’t return, and that was well over a half hour ago, said Elli, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Well, hell, Elli, he’s here someplace, said Pete authoritatively. Where do you keep the nails—down in the cellar?

Yes, just above the workbench, said Elli.

Pete pushed past Elli and Thomas and pointed his light down the cellar stairs.

Sam, you down there? yelled Pete sharply. A moment went by as they listened for a reply.

Well, let me take a look, said Pete as he started down the cellar stairs, with Elli and Thomas following close behind. Pete swung the flashlight side to side as if trying to see the whole cellar at once.

The damp cellar was largely empty, except for a few boxes of Christmas decorations sitting on wooden pallets against the south wall and a heavy wooden workbench under the window against the west wall.

Is that Sam’s flashlight? asked Pete, pointing his light toward the workbench.

I think so, said Elli nervously.

They had just reached the bottom of the stairs when Elli noticed something out of the corner of her eye. What is that? she said, pointing to the corner just to the right of the workbench.

Where? asked Pete, swinging his flashlight in the direction Elli was pointing.

There, in the corner, said Elli.

Pete swung the beam of light back and forth in the corner where Elli was pointing but could see nothing.

No, said Elli in a hushed voice, turn your light away. Pete turned the flashlight toward his belly to hide the light. The cellar was now completely dark, except for the intermittent flashes of lightning that momentarily blazed through the small windows set high in the cellar walls.

Suddenly, a dim blue slit of light appeared in the corner just to the right of the workbench.

What is it? Elli asked quickly in a low voice.

Hell if I know, said Pete.

It looked like a jagged rip, as if the darkness itself had somehow been torn; and from it, a dim blue light shined through. It hovered several inches off the floor. Pete swung his light back toward the object, and it disappeared. But when he turned the light away again, it reappeared.

Sam, are you there? Elli called softly.

Pete slowly moved the light across the entire cellar, but there was no sign of Sam. He then switched the flashlight off. The blue object appeared even brighter now and started to grow in size, seemingly ripping the fabric of darkness wider and higher. It then suddenly shrank back until it almost disappeared, with just a thin blue slit barely visible.

Pete, Thomas, and Elli jumped when another loud clap of thunder shook the house. The object in the dark corner split open again, this time wider and higher. They could now see through it, like peering through a rip in the window shade of a dark room, seeing the daylight outside.

They all froze, wide eyed. The blurred outline of a man’s face could now be seen. It was not Sam. The man was looking from side to side through the opening, as if searching desperately for something, or someone, in the dark cellar.

The thunder outside clapped loudly again, and Pete, Thomas, and Elli collectively jumped back toward the cellar stairway. The glowing object shrank slightly and then grew even larger. They could see the man’s face more clearly now. He was an older man with white hair and a weathered face. His yellow eyes glowed menacingly as he again looked frantically from side to side, searching the cellar. Then the old man spotted Pete, Elli, and Thomas standing together, staring bewilderedly back at him. His yellow eyes squinted slightly as he looked at each of them in turn. When he made eye contact with Thomas, the expression on his face indicated he had found what he was looking for. The man’s eyes widened as he stared nonblinking at Thomas. Thomas experienced a strange tingling sensation that washed over his whole body as the old man stared fixedly at him. He now felt as if he were being pulled by his eyeballs toward the corner of the cellar and found it strangely hard to turn his head or look away. Thomas leaned toward the old man in an effort to keep his eyes from being pulled out of their sockets, but then with all his might and determination, Thomas wrenched his head to one side, breaking eye contact with the old man. Rubbing his eyes, Thomas slowly looked back to see a furious look on the old man’s face.

Then as suddenly as the lights went out, they came back on, lighting up the cellar. The object in the corner was no longer visible.

Sam, are you down here? Elli called out automatically again, but sadly, she could see he was not.

Uncle Pete and Elli were unaware of what Thomas had just experienced, and Thomas himself couldn’t explain it. So he did not mention it.

Pete walked cautiously over to the corner and slowly waved his flashlight from side to side where the object had been. There seemed to be nothing there, except for a small handful of nails on the floor. Then suddenly, Pete pulled his hand back. What the hell! he said disconcertedly as he quickly stepped back from the corner.

What is it? Elli asked in a startled voice.

I don’t know. I felt a tug on my hand, said Pete as he anxiously looked from side to side for what he did not know. Pete then realized his flashlight was no longer in his hand. Where the hell did my flashlight go? said Pete angrily as he looked hurriedly back to where the object had been. Pete took a couple more steps back, then turned and ran for the stairs, his large arms sweeping Thomas and Elli along with him as he rushed up the stairs into the now brightly lit kitchen.

"What was that?" asked Elli with panic in her voice as they all turned to look back toward the doorway to the cellar.

I don’t know, but it took my sixty-five-dollar flashlight, said Pete heatedly as he pushed the cellar door closed.

But what about Sam… Where is he? We can’t leave him down there, said Elli quickly, looking searchingly up at her brother.

We don’t even know if Sam was down there tonight, and what we saw in the corner… must have been caused by the storm—or something, said Pete, looking down at the floor, his mind struggling to make sense of what had just happened.

"Pete, the light switch was on in the cellar. I didn’t turn it on. And that was Sam’s flashlight on the workbench, and the nails on the floor in the corner… how do you explain how they got there? Sam was in that cellar tonight, and he didn’t leave by the stairs. Now you’re the sheriff. You figure it out," said Elli angrily, her voice trembling. She then dropped her face into her hands and cried.

Pete struggled for words. I—I don’t know what happened down there tonight, Elli. I don’t even know where to start. You saw that, that thing in the corner. It wasn’t Sam, and I don’t know what to do about it, said Pete, shaking his head in frustration.

We have to do something, said Elli, looking at Pete wide eyed through her tear-soaked fingers.

We do know he’s not in the cellar… I’ll look around outside now that the storm has passed, said Pete.

But after searching the yard and the barn in vain, Pete reluctantly returned to the farmhouse.

Elli, I don’t know what could have happened to Sam. There’s no sign of him being anywhere, except for the cellar, said Pete, scratching the back of his head.

We must keep looking for him, said Elli tearfully.

It’s late. We’ll search for him in the morning when there’s light. Now come, you and Tommy can spend the night with me, said Pete.

No, I must be here when Sam returns, said Elli resolutely, composing herself and taking a deep breath. She wiped the tears from her face and stood up straight. We’ll be all right, Pete, really.

Then I’ll spend the night here on the couch, said Pete. He was determined not to leave them alone with Sam missing and with who knows what it was they saw in the cellar.

Early the next morning, after a near-sleepless night, Pete and Elli searched the entire farm for any sign of Sam but found nothing. Pete even brought his bloodhound, Barney, over to help look for Sam, but the dog didn’t find any scent outside of the farmhouse or the barn.

Elli, we need to look in the cellar again, said Pete.

I can’t go down there again, said Elli fearfully. I’m afraid of that thing we saw last night.

We don’t know if it was anything to be afraid of, said Pete, sounding unafraid.

Then where’s your flashlight, and where’s Sam? asked Elli pointedly.

I don’t know what happened down there last night, but we must try to find out, said Pete firmly.

Please, you go. I can’t, said Elli.

All right, I’ll go, but I think you should too to see that there’s nothing to be afraid of, said Pete.

"There is something to be afraid of, Pete. We both saw it last night," said Elli, her voice now trembling.

We don’t know what we saw. It could have been something to do with the storm, said Pete.

Then where’s Sam… and your flashlight? asked Elli, tears now running down her cheeks.

Okay, I’ll go down there, said Pete resolutely. Picking a shovel up off the ground, Pete turned and walked toward the farmhouse, with Barney lumbering close behind.

If there’s nothing to be afraid of, why the shovel? asked Elli.

Well, you never know—and a shovel always comes in handy, said Pete, now sounding slightly nervous.

Thomas was standing on the back porch, listening to their conversation. I’ll go with you, Uncle Pete, he said anxiously.

No, you will certainly not! said Elli sternly.

Mom, I’m not afraid, said Thomas.

Well, I am, and I don’t want you in that cellar! Do you understand?

But I want to help find Dad, said Thomas, looking disappointedly down at the ground.

"I need you to help me by not going down there, said Elli. She was crying more now, and Thomas could see he was going to get nowhere with her on this. He turned and looked away angrily. Elli put her arms around Thomas and pulled him close. I couldn’t stand to lose you too," she said tearfully.

Mom, you’re not going to lose me, said Thomas.

Elli pulled him even closer. That’s because I’m not going to let go of you, she said warmly. Please don’t go down there, Tommy.

Thomas let out a big sigh. Okay, I won’t. But can I at least watch from the cellar door? asked Thomas pleadingly.

If you stay at the top of the stairs, said Elli, relinquishing her grip on him.

Thomas turned to Pete, but he was not there. He ran into the house and stuck his head down the stairway to the cellar. Uncle Pete, you down there? he called.

You stay up there, said Pete sternly.

I will, groaned Thomas.

Pete was standing with his feet wide and a firm grip on the shovel as he waved it from side to side in the corner where they had seen the object the night before. But there was nothing there. He called Barney over, but the dog refused to go near the corner. Come on, Barney, hunt it up, insisted Pete. But Barney just paced back and forth, as if there was an invisible barrier he didn’t want to cross.

After twenty minutes or so of searching the cellar for clues, Pete climbed the stairs back to the kitchen. Not many clues, said Pete disappointedly. I don’t know what happened down there last night. Sam didn’t leave a trace except for the flashlight and the nails on the floor. Barney did pick up his scent near the workbench, but the dog won’t go near that corner where we saw—well, whatever it was. And, Elli, you said the light switch to the cellar was definitely on when you got to the house?

Yes, I didn’t turn it on, said Elli quickly.

Well, I do believe he was down there… I just don’t know what happened to him, said Pete with a puzzled look on his face as he scratched the back of his head.

Elli shook her head in despair as she started crying again. Pete put his arms around her. Sam’s missing Elli—not dead, said Pete consolingly.

We don’t know that he’s not, cried Elli.

But we still have hope that he is alive, said Pete encouragingly. Pete patted Elli gently on the back. Now look, you’re going to have to file a missing person report, and you need to think about what you are going to say, said Pete.

Say, what do you mean say? asked Elli, looking confused.

"Elli, think… If you tell anyone what we saw last night, this place will be crawling with reporters and curious onlookers. You don’t want that now, do you?" asked Pete, holding Elli at arm’s length and looking her straight in the eyes.

No, I don’t, agreed Elli indignantly. I just want my Sam back.

Yes, but telling the story of what we saw with no proof will only make your lives more difficult and will do nothing to help find Sam, said Pete.

Does that mean you’re not going to find my dad? asked Thomas, wiping a tear from his cheek. I mean—isn’t that what you do, Uncle Pete? Find people who are missing?

Listen to me, Tommy, it just means we’re not going to make things worse for ourselves in the meantime, that’s all, said Pete, putting his hand gently on Thomas’s shoulder. Now, Tommy, it is crucial that you say nothing of what you saw last night to anyone. Do you understand? asked Pete firmly.

Yes, I think so, said Thomas gloomily as he fought back his tears.

Good. Now let’s go down to my office and make that report, said Pete.

That was five years ago, and like his mother, Thomas did not speak of it to anyone. And that was the last time they saw Sam Wisby.

The rumor around town was that Thomas Samuel Wisby had run off with another woman, but no one seemed to know who the other woman might have been, and Elli just ignored the gossip.

With Sam gone, the Wisbys fell on to hard times and had to sell all but two of the Morgans to pay the bills. Elli now worked as a teacher at the high school in the small town of Cloverdale two miles down the road.

Thomas, now fifteen, was wiry and athletic and loved to ride his horse and climb the many trees in the gently rolling hills around their farm. He had just made the varsity squad for the Cloverdale High School soccer team and was looking forward to the start of team practice in a couple of weeks.

Thomas shook these thoughts from his head as the storm he had been watching was now approaching their farm. The thunder rumbled continuously, and the wind began to pick up.

Tommy, the storm is coming. Please get in here, called Elli from the back porch.

Thomas jumped to his feet. Come on, Sigs, he called to his dog, which had been lying lazily with him under the tree. The two of them sprinted to the farmhouse as the wind chased leaves past them.

Elli held the back door open as they scurried inside. Thomas hurried to the large garden window over the kitchen sink to watch as a dark cloud rolled ominously across his uncle Pete’s cornfield just west of their farm. He could see his uncle propping a board up against his barn door and then dashing for the safety of his house. Pete stopped momentarily when he had reached his back porch and looked toward their house, as if to see if they were okay. Thomas waved but doubted his uncle could see him. Pete then turned and disappeared inside as the black cloud seemingly consumed Pete’s barn and house.

Uncle Pete just made it inside, Mom, and look at the rain over at his place, said Thomas excitedly, watching the heavy rain wash Pete’s house from view.

Elli hurried from window to window, looking worriedly out at the storm. Large drops of rain now pelted the windows. Looking troubled, she turned to Thomas and opened her mouth to speak but then closed it again. She turned to look back out the window as a gust of wind swirled through the backyard, spinning leaves and dust as it rushed by. Wringing her hands nervously, Elli snapped back to look at Thomas.

Tommy, I don’t like the looks of this storm. You better take Sigs and go to the cellar, she said in a troubled voice.

"Mom, please, I want to watch the storm! Just then, a bright flash followed instantly by a loud clap of thunder shook the whole house, rattling the glass in the old window frames. Sigs, who had wedged himself in the corner between the firewood box and the wall, gave a whimper. Whoa, that was close," said Thomas.

Now a little shaken, he headed for the cellar door. Come, Sigs, we better go down.

Here, take this flashlight and go down under the stairs. I’ll join you in a few minutes, said Elli nervously.

Thomas and Sigs headed down into the cellar, and Elli headed to the dining room to open the windows on the leeward side of the house. This opening of windows was commonly believed to help relieve pressure in the house in the event of a tornado.

When Thomas and Sigs reached the cellar, he stopped momentarily to look at the corner, where five years earlier, they had seen that blue object hovering just above the floor. He stared hard, hoping to see even a flicker of that blue light. Unlike his mother, Thomas wanted to see it. If only he could, he might figure out a way to find his father, he thought.

Rarely in the past five years was Thomas sent down in the cellar and was always told sternly by his mother not to go near that corner or touch anything on the workbench. But the corner was still empty, except for the handful of nails on the dusty floor.

Thomas finally turned away and glanced around the cellar. It was mostly as it had been five years earlier. Not much was kept down here because of the dampness, just a few boxes of Christmas decorations and a heavy wooden workbench, where a row of small wooden boxes of assorted nails and screws were kept. Thomas’s mother had not been back down here since that day. When there was a storm severe enough to take shelter, Elli would send Thomas down with Sigs, saying she would be down in just a minute. But his mother would always remain upstairs, calling Thomas up after the storm had passed.

The lights began to flicker as the storm raged outside, and Thomas could hear the old wood-frame house creak as it strained from the high winds.

This must be a bad one, said Thomas out loud as he moved toward the backside of the staircase and sat cross-legged on the floor, with Sigs joining him at his side.

A flash of bright light flooded through the cellar windows, and the air cracked with a loud boom as lightning hit somewhere close to the house. The cellar suddenly fell dark. Thomas set his flashlight on the floor next to him as he turned his head to look at the corner next to the workbench. He strained his eyes, hoping to see something… anything. Suddenly, a dim bluish slit momentarily appeared in the corner but then quickly vanished. Thomas strained his eyes again to look for it. Did he really see it? Or did he want to see it so badly that he had imagined it? He slowly climbed out from under the stairway and got to his feet. Sigs gave a disapproving whimper and backed himself tightly under the stairway.

Thomas cautiously took a few steps closer to the corner, his eyes searching anxiously. Suddenly, there it was again. The thin jagged blue tear in the darkness had returned. Mom, come see… It’s back, Thomas yelled. But Elli was working at trying to free a stuck window and did not hear all of what Thomas had said over the noise from the storm. She stopped and turned her head, her heart now pounding in her chest as she listened intently to what Thomas was saying.

The tear quickly grew to three feet high and then shrank to only several inches. It almost disappeared but then suddenly grew back to three feet, then larger, as thunder again struck close by, making the farmhouse shake. Thomas moved closer as the bluish object now grew to fill the entire corner. It was translucent now, and Thomas could see through it, like looking through a blue-tinted glass. Dad, are you there? he called out softly as he inched closer. At first, a blue haze obscured the clarity. But as he watched, a strange landscape slowly came into focus. It was not a landscape he recognized. He leaned even closer, looking for a sign of his father. Thomas then noticed a familiar object on the ground just through the opening.

Mom, I see Uncle Pete’s flashlight, Thomas called out excitedly.

Horror filled Elli’s face as Thomas’s words thundered in her head. Oh no! she shrieked. Tommy, don’t go near that corner, screamed Elli as she dashed for the cellar door. Elli skied down the cellar stairs just as Thomas reached through the blue haze. Tommy, nooo, she screamed, but it was too late. As Thomas grabbed the flashlight, he heard a deafening roar of air rush past his ears, and he suddenly found himself standing on the other side. He quickly turned around to see his horror-stricken mother looking back at him.

I got it, he yelled, holding the flashlight out for her to see. But before he could step back through, the tear quickly shrank back to a thin jagged blue line and then vanished. Elli ran to the corner, grabbing wildly, screaming Thomas’s name over and over. But there was nothing there to grab, except a handful of nails lying on the floor next to Pete’s flashlight. Thomas was gone.

Tommy, please come back! Elli screamed, falling to her knees and pounding her fist on the concrete floor. Please come back, Tommy, please.

Elli, you down there? What’s going on? called Pete from the top of the stairs.

They’re gone, Pete, screamed Elli. They’re both gone.

Pete slid down the stairs on his heels, landing hard on his butt at the bottom. What? Where’s Tommy? he asked frantically, getting back to his feet.

He’s gone, cried Elli.

Are you sure? He could be . . .

I saw him go through that, that thing, and it closed… Now Tommy’s gone too, cried Elli sorrowfully.

The cellar lights flickered several times, then came back on. Pete could see that Thomas was nowhere to be seen.

Not Tommy too, said Pete despairingly, hurrying to the corner where Elli was kneeling. His eyes widened when he saw his flashlight lying on the floor in front of Elli, next to the handful of nails. Is that my flashlight? asked Pete as he cautiously reached down and picked it up.

Yes, Tommy saw it and reached for it, and now he’s gone. They’re both gone, cried Elli, pounding her fists hysterically on the cellar floor.

Pete quickly examined the flashlight to see his initials etched on the side. He then carefully put it back on the floor where he found it. With his massive arms, Pete scooped Elli up off the cellar and held her tight, her feet dangling several inches off the floor. Come on upstairs, Elli. There’s nothing you can do down here.

No, I can’t leave, screamed Elli as she tried in vain to pull free from Pete’s muscular arms.

Elli, please, come upstairs, said Pete as he gently but firmly guided her toward the stairs. Elli finally conceded, burying her face in his chest as she cried, grabbing fistfuls of Pete’s wet shirt. Pete helped her up the stairs to the kitchen, followed close by Sigs, his tail tucked tightly between his legs and his ears laid straight back.

Elli sat at the kitchen table, softly crying, while Pete made her a cup of tea. Here, drink this, said Pete, putting a steaming cup in front of Elli. Pete then sat across the table from his sister and stared sympathetically at her for a long while without speaking.

The storm was now rumbling in the distance as it moved off to the east.

Pete finally reached across the table and grasped Elli’s hands. Elli, listen, said Pete in a calm voice. "I know how devastated you are, and believe me, I feel the same.