Nuclear Tuesday

I repaired the front door a couple of days before, an' I'm glad I did.

It held through the blast.

We live in an old farmhouse in the middle of Texas. We chose to live out there
because we needed a sanctuary--a place of refuge--away from the 'rat race' of
American city life. That way, when we retired, we'd have a nice place to call
home.

I'm retired now, but I keep myself busy.

It was a warm, partly cloudy Tuesday--about 10 or so in the mornin'. I was
workin' out in the yard in the garden. Pullin' weeds is always a back breakin'
job, an' that day was no different. My back was gettin' tired as always, so I
stood up for a minute to massage it. My dogs were out there playin'--and
all-of-a-sudden, they stopped, jumped up and cocked their heads back and forth,
like they were listenin' to somethin'.

Then I saw it.

Off in the distance past the trees toward the big city, I saw a huge flash. Then
immediately a cloud rose up from the same place. I heard the distant BOOM--like
the finale of the fireworks display on July 4th in our little town. Several
seconds later a firestorm of wind rushed outward--toward me.

The fire stopped afer a couple of seconds, but the wind an' the black cloud of
death kept comin'. I ran an' called out to my wife an' our dogs an' we dove into
the tornado cellar.

I'd never seen anything like it.

We huddled in one corner of the shelter, an' we prayed together, like we always
did durin' a storm. We get a lot of 'em in Texas, an' God spared us from ever'
one. The dogs started barkin'...then they started howlin'. Then the wind roared
overhead like a tornado an' a hurricane combined. I heard trees crackle then
snap an' crash into our barn. Windows shattered. Then I heard one of our cars
flip over an' smash into the fence.

Then, suddenly after several minutes, the wind was jus' gone.

The sounds of destruction stopped, then our dogs stopped howlin' an' laid down
with a nervous whimper. I made my way up an' opened the cellar door, an' right
away started coughin' an' sneezin'. I pulled my shirt up over my nose an' mouth.

Unbelieveable.

Everywhere an' over everything was black an' gray soot. It was like I was
walkin' on the moon. What once was a green, grassy peaceful farm was now a place
of gray destruction. The roof on our old farmhouse held, thank God, but she lost
most of her shingles on one side. But, all the windows were blown out.

Then, after about an hour, somethin' special happened. It starting rainin'. Most
of the gray stuff washed away.

God spared my garden.

As the days passed, we ate everything in our 'fridge' an' fresh veggies from the
garden. I had a generator, but it only had about a week's worth of fuel.
I covered a bunch of windows an' part of the roof with plastic, an' we finally
got to sleep in our house.

Miraculously, our radio worked...an' one day I picked up a faint signal through
the heavy static of a station from Oklahoma.

The United States was now under 'Martial Law' after the bombs were detonated on
'Nuclear Tuesday', as they were now calling it. We were attacked by terrorists
who had ties with North Korea an' Iran. Somehow they came across the
U.S./Mexican border an' infiltrated our universities, where they recruited help
an' planned the attacks. People were ordered to stay in their homes, until they
could be relocated into tent cities out in the rural areas.

"Please stay calm." The radio announcer said unemotionally.

Wow.

Then our dogs jumped up an' started barkin' uncontrollably, headin' for the front
door. As they hopped an' scratched on the doorframe, I heard voices an' then
someone started bangin' on the door. BAM BAM BAM. BAM BAM BAM. The dogs went
wild, growlin' an' barkin' at the same time. I pulled back some plastic on the
window an' looked to see who it was.

I couldn't believe what I saw.

It looked like one of those crazy zombie movies. Dozens of burned, disfigured
people were hobbling out near the barn, then up onto our porch. I yelled an'
asked them what they wanted. They wanted food. They needed water. They wanted
to eat--anything, an' anyone, apparently.

I reached for my shotgun, an' loaded it.

One of uglier ones tore off the plastic I had on the porch window an' started to
step into my house with a growl. The dogs jumped up on him to tear him apart.

I lifted the gun to my shoulder an' started to aim to shoot--

+ + +

Instantly I woke up, wide awake, then lifted my head to see the clock. It was
3:16 a.m. I rolled back over, an' started prayin' intensely.

"Thank You Father for watchin' over me, my wife, my kids an' my gran'kids."
I started crying, feelin' His wonderful presence.
"Keep your hand on 'em, Lord, especially if this dream I had is true, or maybe
You just wanted me to pray for 'em. Dear Lord, send Your angels to watch over
them, an' keep 'em, Jesus, in the strong right hand of Your righteousness. Thank
You Lord. Thank You for savin' me an' my family. We love You. I love You,
Jesus, oh so much. Praise You Lord, Praise You Lord..."

My wife half woke up an' muttered somethin' like, "Is everything okay, honey?"

"Everything's okay."

Praise God it is.


 

--bro. tim pickl
November 12, 2007 A.D.

reference: FEMA: Are you ready? (for a nuclear blast)
http://www.fema.gov/areyouready/nuclear_blast.shtm

Return to Tim Pickl's Poetry Page

Acts 2

[38] Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost.
[39] For the promise is unto you, and to your children, and to all that are afar off, even as many as the Lord our God shall call.