Twister Crime

By Jody Worsham
All rights reserved for bail.

I am, by all accounts, an honest law abiding person; but last night during the Festival of Tornadoes, I knowingly and willing committed a crime.

I was at Longview High School at the one-act play competition, which really isn’t a one-act play competition because nobody does one-acts, just 40 minutes from a longer play. The last play had finished and the winners were announced. The judge had just finished critiquing the first play when the Longview host came in and said we all had to get to an interior room because the tornado sirens were going off. Well, that auditorium emptied faster than a Sunday service when the Cowboys kicked-off at noon.

The interior choir room was too full, so the company I was following was sent to the back of the auditorium to huddle behind a half brick wall where the spotlight sits. The cast members were crammed together so tightly that I think everybody now has a date for the prom.

If you are from Texas, you know nothing stops a Texas UIL contest except a direct hit. As the tornado spotted was a good 13 miles away, we continued. The judge who was judging the not-really –one-act play contest went right on telling the kids what they did that was good and what they needed to work on. The kids were peering over that half brick wall at the judge listening to every word. They looked like those little hermit crabs peeping out of a shell. All you could see where their eye-balls. After about ten minutes, the contest manager took the judge in search of the other play companies.

We didn’t know what to do next. We knew a tornado was close by cause our ears were popping; plus a boy that didn’t have an Afro haircut a few minutes ago, had one now. We hadn’t heard the all clear sound so it was possible the tornado warning system had already been taken out.

And that’s when I knowingly and willingly committed a passionate crime.

On tax payer funded public school property, I lead the group in prayer. I don’t mean one of those moments of silence type things; I mean an all-out call to the Lord at the top of my voice. I know. I know. What was I thinking? I'll tell you what I was thinking. I was thinking a Texas tornado can suck you up in East Texas and spit you out in Arkansas; where, if you wake up, you’ll think you’ve died and gone to Hell. Jail time was preferable over landing in Arkansas.

The tornado tuckered out before it got to us. By 10:00 the wind had died down enough for me to head for home. I guess jail time will be in store for me next. I’ll just sit on the front porch with the light on and wait for Dog the Bounty Hunter to show up. Don’t want him breaking down any doors unnecessarily.