Eye of the Storm (29 page)

I nod. I remember. I could never forget the first time I ever saw my father cry.

“He loves you. Nothing excuses what he's done, but he's damaged, Jaden. His thinking. Athena is—was—I can't get used to the idea of having her alive and now gone again—she was larger than life somehow. It's like . . . I don't know . . . like she had some spell cast over him.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. And I almost understand. I know that feeling of wanting a parent back so badly. Wanting to be celebrated and loved. It's a feeling he never really knew. Mom pushes my hair behind my ear, and all at once, I'm filled up with tears at how lucky I am that I do know.

The house videophone buzzes in the hallway, and as Mom leaves to answer it, my DataSlate dings with a video-message from Alex.

“Hey, Jaden! I gotta show you what came in the mail today.”

Video-Alex holds up a fat off-white envelope, and I cheer, even though I know he can't hear me. “All
right
!” Risha and I both got similar envelopes two days ago, invitations to spend three weeks interning at the National Storm Center's new weather modification research facility this winter, and permission documents for Mom to sign. According to the paperwork, Ms. Walpole recommended all three of us, based on our “outstanding commitment to research.” Everything in the NSC envelope makes me hope this is the program that Eye on Tomorrow was supposed to be.

“So I guess I'll be seeing you in a couple months!” Video-Alex winks, and the screen goes black.

I stare out the window and smile at the rain, just thin trickles down the glass now, and the clouds are thinning. It really was a small storm this time. Nothing more.

I pick up the longer of the two pencil pieces and go back to Dad's letter.

I ask him about Mirielle and Remi. They've been to visit him, Mom says, even though Mirielle isn't sure if she'll stay or take Remi back to France. I write a few lines about school, about the new schedule I'm on this fall with home connection three days a week and morning classes in person the other two. I ask how things are at the energy farm, then erase that because they're probably not great.

I'm about to sign it when Mom comes back through the door. The lines in her face are tight.

“Who was on the videophone?” I ask.

“Logan County Sheriff's office. They finished clearing all the debris from StormSafe, and Grandma . . .” Mom pauses.

They must have found the body.

Mom bites her lip. “I'm . . . not sure how to tell you this.”

I stare at her for a second. Does she think I'm going to be that upset over losing a grandmother I never knew, until the night she almost killed me? “Mom, it's okay. I was there when the building went down. I know she never could have survived. Is the funeral going to be soon?”

“We'll go down for a service on Monday,” Mom says. “Closed casket.”

I nod, remembering the flying debris, the minefield of broken glass and twisted metal that night. “Her body was in pretty bad shape, huh?”

Mom shakes her head. “They didn't find her body.”

A million thoughts swim through my head. The storm was huge; it could have picked her up and dropped her anywhere. But one thought rises to the surface—not so much a thought in words as a mental movie of Grandma Athena, standing in the outbuilding, her mouth a straight line, her hands on her hips.

Her laugh.

Never trust a death certificate.

Could she possibly have survived that monster?

My stomach twists.

Could she still be out there somewhere?

Mom goes on. “We can still have the service. But closed casket. It's not a problem.”

Not a problem. I let Mom go on thinking that. She's probably right.

“When will we leave?”

“Sunday. You should call your friends. You'll have some time to see them, too.” Mom leaves and closes the door behind her.

An image of Grandma's face floats through my mind, but I imagine the wind blowing it away like Risha's dandelion fluff. Like the magical numbers on her bracelet, zeros and ones, swirling through the air until the ceiling lifts away, and they arrange themselves into something that makes sense, into a world mended and whole again.

But it took decades to make this mess. It will take time for us to go back.

No. To move forward.

It'll take time and research and work. And hope. Failing and trying again and probably wanting to scream because it can't happen fast enough. It won't be impossible, but it will feel that way sometimes; I already know that. And I know I want to be part of it. I need to be.

I reach for my DataSlate to call Alex and Risha. Outside, the sun streams through a gap in the clouds. Puddles glimmer on the sidewalk, and half a rainbow arcs over the woods. This one is brighter than before.

And today feels like a good day to start.

Many thanks to all whose work, research, and support helped me to write this book, especially Dr. Howard Bluestein from the University of Oklahoma's School of Meteorology, who took time out of a stormy week in September 2010 to meet with me and answer my long list of questions, most of which began with the words, “So what if . . .” Dr. Bluestein also reviewed sections of this manuscript for scientific accuracy relating to the formation of tornadoes (even though the actual weather manipulation that happens in the book isn't possible at this time). His meteorological expertise is most appreciated, and any errors that remain are my responsibility alone.

I'm grateful to senior meteorology student Tim Marquis for the weather school and National Severe Storms Laboratory tour that provided much of the inspiration for the Eye on Tomorrow campus. The following books were also helpful:
Tornado Alley: Monster Storms of the Great Plains
by Howard B. Bluestein (Oxford University Press, 2006),
The Tornado: Nature's Ultimate Windstorm
by Thomas P. Grazulis (University of Oklahoma Press, 2003), and
Storm Warning: The Story of a Killer Tornado
by Nancy Mathis (Touchstone, 2008).

As someone who loves both science and art, I am fascinated by the idea of intersections between the two. Richard Holmes's
The Age of Wonder: How the Romantic Generation Discovered the Beauty and Terror of Science
(Pantheon, 2009) got me thinking about it in new ways.

I am grateful to poet Rita Dove for the gift of her work and for permission to include the excerpt from “Geometry” that Jaden reads in her faded paper book.

Thanks to student beta-reader Theo Gardner-Puschak for sharing his thoughts on the manuscript and to critique partners and writer friends Loree Griffin Burns, Eric Luper, Liza Martz, Ammi-Joan Paquette, Marjorie Light, Stephanie Gorin, and Linda Urban. You all make me a more thoughtful writer, and I'm grateful for your friendship.

Thanks to my agent, Jennifer Laughran, for supporting my writing, helping me weather storms, and generally being amazing; to my brilliant editor, Mary Kate Castellani, for asking just the right questions; and to Emily Easton, Beth Eller, Katie Fee, Kate Lied, Amanda Hong, Nicole Gastonguay, and the rest of the team at Walker/Bloomsbury, and to cover illustrator Vincent Chong.

A special thanks to Elizabeth Bluemle and Josie Leavitt of Flying Pig Bookstore, Marc and Sarah Galvin of The Bookstore Plus, and all the other independent booksellers who work hard for authors, books, kids, and communities every day. You rock.

Finally, thanks to Tom, Jake, and Ella. I saved you for last because the very best part of this book journey is sharing it with you.

Also By Kate Messner

The Brilliant Fall of Gianna Z.
Sugar and Ice

Copyright © 2012 by Kate Messner

Electronic edition published in March 2012

All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or
by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any
information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

First published in the United States of America in March 2012
by Walker Publishing Company, Inc., a division of Bloomsbury Publishing, Inc.
www.bloomsburykids.com

For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to
Permissions, Walker BFYR, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010

“Geometry” from
The Yellow House on the Corner
, Carnegie Mellon University Press, Pittsburgh, PA.
© 1980 by Rita Dove. Reprinted by permission of the author.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Messner, Kate.

Eye of the storm / by Kate Messner. —1st U.S. ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Jaden's summer visit with her meteorologist father, who has just returned from
spending four years in Russia conducting weather experiments not permitted in the United States,
fills her with apprehension and fear as she discovers that living at her father's planned
community, Placid Meadows, is anything but placid.
ISBN 978-0-8027-2313-0 (hardcover)
[1. Fathers and daughters—Fiction. 2. Storms—Fiction. 3. Weather—Fiction. 4. Climatology—Fiction.
5. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Title.
PZ7.M5615Ey 2012          [Fic]—dc22          2011006393

ISBN 978-0-80272-389-5 (ebook)