Florence

by ahorsewithnoname

The shrill sound of the coastal town's emergency whistle was muted somewhat by both the wind and the surf, their increasing roil powerful testament to nature's impending fury.

Jake looked toward the east, the normally dark blue placid waters an ugly, forbidding green-gray, the typical morning stillness mired by the coming hurricane. Storms weren't new to him, having lived his whole life at the beach, and certainly added spice to his somewhat mundane existence despite the element of terror that each one brought when it struck close to home.

Jake Bower was at one point the prodigal son of Winston Thomas Bower III and his wife Eloise Trudell Bower. He was bright and likable as a child, and his parents guided his growth with books and nannies and tutors and private schools and it was expected that he would follow in his father's footsteps and become a doctor, hopefully, a surgeon.

Life has a funny way of throwing curveballs into plans, and with Jake, it was dyslexia. In normal day-to-day life, Jake's brain worked like everyone else's, but in pressured situations, including taking exams, neurons misfired and the battles being fought inside his head were on a different plane than the questions on the paper. Jake dropped out of school at 15 and, as an extreme disappointment to his parents, was relegated to menial tasks about the house while his parents concentrated their efforts now solely on his younger sister.

At first, Jake was hurt and became sullen and full of anger. But over time he realized that since his parents didn't care, he could pretty much write his own ticket so long as he stayed clear of them and didn't cause too many issues.

At 18, blonde-haired, in good shape, and with engaging azure eyes, Jake spent half the year on the beach, engaging in his three favorite hobbies: girl-watching, sketching, and Pokemon Go. His art was top-notch, easily his favorite subject when he was in school, much to the chagrin of his math/science-oriented parents. At Level 40, he was currently as far as he could proceed in Pokemon Go, a legend of sorts among other local players.

Jake was very successful with girl-watching, but, not so much with getting any further along toward losing his virginity. He was shy when it came to girls; they seemed just as difficult as a math test, so most of his time was spent just watching them strutting along on the beach or the boardwalk.

He lived on Ocean Boulevard in one of the posh sections of Myrtle Beach and drove his moped down to Hotel Row each day when it wasn't raining. There were plenty of spots to sit and sketch and he'd alternate between beach scenes and hotel scenes and sketches of people. When he needed a break he'd drop his pad and pencils off with his best friend's Mom who worked at a small souvenir shop along the boardwalk, and then he'd be off hunting Charmanders and Pikachus with his smartphone.

Not today, he thought, as in the distance across the turbulent water he saw the dark, towering clouds that signaled the threat named Florence, a category three hurricane that was bearing down on the Carolina coast like a dog with a bone.

His parents were gone, off to a conference in San Francisco, and would be gone for ten days. His sister was at her private school in New York, so it was just him at the house. Jake wasn't concerned. He'd been through storms before, and, he knew his parent's house could take any wind that mother nature through at it. But there were tasks to be performed; his parents had faxed him a list and they were very emphatic that he get everything done before the storm arrived. He noted that there wasn't any concern for him, but there was a lot of concern about the house and him needing to put up the plywood to cover the windows, protect the vehicles, and of course his mom's prized plants and flowers.

Jake just rolled his eyes but there was no disbelief. He knew his parents sucked, but there was nothing to be done about that. So while the wind notched up a bit in speed, Jake set out to board up all of the windows and doors, save for the front one facing the street as he needed a means of egress. What normally would have taken an hour with help took several hours by himself, his arms aching. The rain didn't help matters, pelting him with a minor stinging brought on by the strong breeze. After the boarding, it was a matter of bringing inside anything on the decks that could turn into a projectile or simply get hammered by the strong winds. That ate up nearly the rest of the afternoon, that and a quick trip to Walmart before it closed for the storm.

That was a preview of FLORENCE!. To read the rest purchase the book.

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