The storm was over, and we could come up from the storm cellar. I’d gotten used to being down there as I grew up. Dad made it feel like another room in our house. The furniture we no longer needed upstairs ended up down there. An old couch pushed into the corner, blankets my mother knitted lay folded on top. Under the shelf lay a tub filled with games we’d played as kids. The shelves lined with dry goods, fruits, and veggies mom had canned. Dad had even made a small bathroom down there. He’d spent days running the electricity and plumbing, and a friend helped him build the walls out of drywall. An orange bucket filled with water in case a tornado took out the power. The radio, sat atop a beat up end table would inform us where the storm was over, and we’d head upstairs to see what the damage was.

This time was different though. My wife, Elizabeth, and I were in town to sort things out since my dad passed away. Mom passed a few years ago from a stroke. Dad wasn’t the same without her; he was much quieter and seemed to go with the flow. He’d passed away on the porch in his rocking chair. It was comforting to know that he was with mom again. Liz and I had visited often, but we lived an hour and a half away. We had brought some of our stuff over and added it to the cellar in case we were ever there when a storm happened. As I aged, toys wouldn’t keep me busy anymore.

Liz opened the doors to the storm cellar, and we climbed out onto the lawn. It was warm, and the damage was indescribable. Long branches and siding from houses lined the ground. The neighbor’s house had taken a big hit. We split up and assessed the damage to dad’s house. She returned to tell me that the siding to the house had taken a hit, but nothing too bad. Cleanup was never easy and would take a community effort to get things back to normal. Small tornadoes were common here in Kansas, and we’d gotten used to them. Many people, including myself, would sometimes chase the storms and take pictures. Bigger tornadoes were rare, but they happened, and this was one of them.

We got into the car after loading up with garbage bags and two cases of water to give out as we cleaned. We drove around to the main road and spotted an elderly man struggling to pick up bricks from the road. A nearby building suffered immense water damage to the interior. This seemed to be where the bricks were from. We parked as close to the side of the road as we could, stepping on piles of things as we exited the vehicle and walked over.

“Need some help?” I asked the man.

“Oh, yes, please. M’names Benjamin.” He nodded as he reached out for a handshake. I took his hand, calluses made them feel rough, and I knew right then that Benjamin had worked hard in his old age.

“Sean” I replied.

He looked sad, and as we spoke more, I realized his entire life had crumbled before him.

“Do you work here?” I asked, sweeping papers and food items into a pile.

He laughed, “I own it. My wife Edna and I bought this place about twenty years ago. She loved to bake. Since she passed away, I’ve been running it on my own.”

“Oh, wow. I’m so sorry to hear about your wife.”

Benjamin gave me a grim smile and continued cleaning. Now and then he’d pause and turn toward the bakery, tears welling in his eyes. He’d nod his head, wipe them away, and continue with cleaning. By the time we finished, it was dark. I checked my watch, 8:30 pm.

“Hey, Ben, do you have anywhere to go? I know there was an apartment above the bakery, was it yours?”

“Yes, yes it was. I suppose I’ll have to find a hotel to stay in; the stairs took a wallop.”

After a quick consult with Elizabeth, we offered Benjamin to stay with us at dad’s house. He accepted, happy as ever to have someone to talk to. We took him to the closest Walmart and bought him some new clothes to get through the week. Then, we headed home.

Once we arrived, I showed Ben into dad’s room and explained to him he was free to make himself at home. There was no need for him to worry about bothering us. He seemed to settle in well, and Liz and I headed to bed.

In the morning, I woke to Liz making breakfast. Ben was sitting at the table reading a book he’d taken from the shelf in the living room. I sat down across from him and sipped on some orange juice.

“Morning all,” I said grumpily, still tired and sore from the cleanup. I was never a morning person.

They both perked up, “Good morning!” smiles on their faces.

“How d’ya sleep, Ben?” I asked, grabbing a piece of toast.

“Oh, excellent! I am grateful you two opened your home to me. I tell ya what, that bed up there is a hundred times better than mine. I haven’t slept so well in a long time.” he replied, grabbing his coffee cup, hands shaking as he brought it to his mouth.

We ate breakfast and chatted about what his plans for the bakery were. Surprised that I’d never been there since I’d passed it a bunch of times. I’d always been too busy to stop. After breakfast, I got dressed and headed down to the storm cellar to take inventory. Supplies would be running low now.

We had spent two days downstairs. It was comfortable, having added things to keep us busy. Elizabeth and I curled up under the blankets and talked under the candlelight. An old wood stove kept us warm, and heated our meals. Board games kept us busy for a while, and Elizabeth caught up on some crocheting as well. I prefer to pass the time doing crossword or sudoku. Now and then we’d catch music from a radio station, but usually just static. The worst part was when we could feel the ground rumbling as the storm passed overhead. Liz couldn’t get used to that and held me tight as it happened. We’d almost lost the house when I was younger due to a massive tornado, so I wasn’t as worried as she was.

As I was making a list of supplies to restock, I remembered something from my childhood. There was a red necklace I’d found, when I showed mom she took it away in a rush. I assumed it was because she was angry with me for playing with it, but I swore I heard whispers when I held it. Where would she put it? Curiosity pulled at me.

A basket mom had kept under the sink in the bathroom filled with useless items: Makeup, magazines, romance books, hair curlers. Even in the worst moments, mom loved to look beautiful. It was tucked away under all that was a small box, which to my surprise, contained the necklace.

I felt drunk, and couldn’t focus on anything when I held it. I let go, unable to stand the feeling for much longer. I was nauseous and couldn’t stand for a few minutes. I lay there, my mind wanting to know what caused this reaction. Was it from somewhere foreign, and I was reacting to something it was made from? I held it again, and the same feelings crept over my body. There had to be a way for me to hold this thing for longer. I found some tape and placed the necklace in one hand. I wrapped the necklace into the hand, fighting against the groggy feelings it was causing.

Sweating and nauseous, I fought back vomit and was transported. I no longer lay on the floor of the storm cellar. I was at my grandmother’s house, in her living room, and I felt fine! I could hear music playing in the distance. I stood up, confused as to what was going on, and headed to the kitchen where the music was coming from. To my surprise, everyone was there. Grandma, my mom, grandpa, dad, a strange woman I didn’t recognize, and my sister Kourtney. She looked beautiful as ever. They all stopped talking and looked up at me, smiling.

“Sean!” Kourtney yelled, jumping up from the table and rushing to over to hug me.

“Hi, sweetie!” I said, embracing her.

She was cold, but I was so happy to see her. I held her for a long time before she let go. This couldn’t be real. They’d all passed away. Kourtney had died in an unfortunate car accident after she had gotten her license when she was sixteen.

Later on, I went to sit in the spare bedroom. Being in this house was weird. Everything in the same place it had been before grandma and grandpa had died. Kourtney came up and sat at the end of the bed.

“Let me look at you,” I said. I studied her face, filled with small scars.

“It’s not always like this ya know. Sometimes… it’s scary here.” she said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Everything seemed perfect here. I could see my family, touch them once again!

“Sometimes everything is out of place. Our voices get slurred and what we see is blurry. We haven’t figured out why.” She responded, staring off into the distance.

“Sean, you can’t stay here. You have a wonderful wife to get back to. If you stay here too long, too much time will go by down there.”

“Time passes by while I’m here? Do all people come here?” I asked.

“All dead people, yes, and you, because you have the necklace.”

She was staring right at me now, taken aback by her beauty; I stared too. I missed her; how could I ever leave this place? My sister was here, alive.