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    Lee Wilson
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
This story is an original work of gay fiction. None of the people or events are real. While some of the town names used may be real, any other geographic references (school, events) are purely fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is completely coincidental. This work is the property of the author, Lee R Wilson, and shall not be reproduced and/or re-posted without his permission. Story ©2024 Lee R Wilson.

Peter the Meteor(ologist) - 4. A Visit to Miami

Well, she looked at me
And I, I could see
That before too long, I'd fall in love with her
She wouldn't dance with another
Woo, when I saw her standin' there

The Beatles - 1963


11

I was booked at the Courtyard Miami at Dolphin Mall, about four miles from the National Hurricane Center, so I wasted the afternoon walking around the mall. I'd forgotten to pack a tie, so the mall being right near the hotel was quite fortuitous. It became so for a second, completely unexpected reason. There was a Brooks Brothers Factory Store near the entrance closest to the hotel, so I targeted that. Fate apparently saved my ass in Port Lavaca for a reason.

The saleswoman was tall, dark, early twenties, and drop-dead gorgeous, "Can I help you?"

"Yes, hello. I'm probably going to be your worst sale of the day; I only need a tie. I have an interview tomorrow and I forgot to pack one."

"Let's go see what might work. What color is the suit you're wearing? I assume you're wearing a suit."

"Yes. It's charcoal gray."

"And your shirt?"

"Um, pink, actually."

"Dark or light?"

"It's quite pale."

"Then we should go with a burgundy. Perhaps with gray stripes."

"I'm really not crazy about striped ties."

"Solid burgundy it is. With a matching pocket square. Um, no offense, but are those the shoes you'll be wearing?"

"Ye-ah?"

"They're a little beat up, aren't they?"

"Yeah. I was caught in a hurricane a couple weeks ago. I guess I should have thought to buy another pair."

"Hmm. What can we do? Oh, yeah. We're in a men's clothing store. Let's go look at shoes."

"You're good at this."

"Just wait until I show you our jewelry collection."

"Jewelry?"

"Just kidding. Where are you interviewing, if you don't mind me asking?"

"No problem, at the National Hurricane Center."

"Caught in a hurricane, interv... Oh, my God. You're that guy!"

"That guy?"

"Yeah. The one that almost got blown away in Texas, right?"

"Guilty as charged. Peter Noonan."

"I'm Rebecca. Oh, my name tag says that already. Rebecca Carlton."

"Pleased to meet you, Rebecca."

She just stood and stared at me for a few moments, "Um, the shoes?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry. I've never met anybody famous before."

"I don't know, sixty seconds in a hurricane and a few minutes on the World News. I don't think I'd say famous."

"I would. Okay, shoes. I think a traditional pair of black shoes would work best."

I tried on a few pairs, and unfortunately for my budget, liked the most expensive ones best. I hesitated.

"Don't worry about the price, we're a factory store. The actual price is half the marked price."

"Oh, wow. That's great then."

She stared again. I took a chance, "You wouldn't want to have dinner with me tonight, would you?"

"Really? Yes. I'd love to. I don't get off until seven though."

"That's not a problem; that's six o'clock to my stomach."

"Oh, yeah. Great then."

"I'm obviously not from the area, so you'll have to suggest something."

"I've always... No that's too expensive, I couldn't say that. But it's too much of a coincidence."

"Try me."

"It's a Brazilian steakhouse, Texas de Brazil Churrascaria."

I wanted to make a good impression, so I agreed, "That sounds wonderful. How long does it take to get there?"

"It's maybe a three-minute walk. It's just outside the mall here."

"Sounds perfect."

"Let's get you checked out, oh, um, I'll ring up your purchases."

I chuckled, "Yeah, I guess you already checked me out. Um, how about we add a polo shirt. I wasn't really expecting to need a second dressy shirt."

She picked something out for me, middle of the road pricewise and 'checked me out.'

"I'll be back here at seven to walk you over."

"I'm looking forward to it."

So was I.

12

I arrived a couple minutes to seven. She said goodbye to a co-worker, who looked at me as if I was about to steal his wife. 'Oh well buddy, you snooze, you lose.'

"You're right on time. I like that."

"Well, a couple minutes early."

"You could have been twenty minutes early and you'd still have been right on time."

I blushed, because I know flirting when I hear it.

"You're cute when you blush, but I'm sorry."

"It's quite alright."

We walked to the restaurant. Over the course of the next two and half hours, we talked, we laughed, and we stuffed ourselves on the awesome food. I discovered she was a senior at the South Florida College of Nursing, working at the store only part-time. She took a year off after high school to work and save some money for school, so she was actually my age, twenty-two. I found out her birthday was only two days after mine. I took another chance.

"It's still early, I'd ask if you wanted to go out for coffee, but, well, been there, done that, here. I'd really love to keep talking with you, and this isn't an effort to do anything other than talk, but would you like to come back to my hotel room and continue our conversation? I think the staff here wishes we were already gone."

"As long as it's just talk. My last date didn't know how to take no for an answer until he felt it."

"Felt it?"

"Yeah, a knee to the groin."

I snorted, "Not to worry. My intentions are completely honorable."

"Let's go then."

We went to the hotel, I put a soft-rock music channel on the television, at low volume, and we talked. When it was time to say goodnight, I walked her to her car, which she drove over after dinner. We traded phone numbers.

"Do you have classes, or working tomorrow night?"

"Yes, and no. Classes, not working."

"I didn't know how long my interviews would last, so I'm not flying back until Thursday morning. Do you think we could maybe go out again tomorrow night?"

"Yes, I'd love to. I want to hear all about your interview tomorrow."

"Great. Pick somewhere nice to go, and I'll call you after I'm done at the NHC."

"I do have to request we make it an early night. I have an eight o'clock class Thursday morning and I live almost a half-hour away from the school."

"Not a problem. I'll probably be leaving for the airport the same time you're leaving your house. I have a nine-fifty flight."

We stared at one another for a long moment. Before it became too awkward, I leaned in to kiss her. She mirrored my motion, and we shared a simple kiss.

"Drive safe. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll call probably between five and six."

"Thanks for dinner, and a lovely evening."

"You're quite welcome. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

13

I didn't have to be up tremendously early Wednesday morning, they wanted me there at ten o'clock, so they could take care of anything that came up from the overnight crew. I walked into the lobby at ten minutes to ten and announced myself to the receptionist. I was told to take a seat and wait. A couple minutes after ten, a young lady came into the lobby and said my name.

"Good morning, I'm Desiree Cagle, part of the Administrative Support staff here. If you'll follow me, your meeting is in our small conference room."

I followed her to the conference room, which wasn't small by any definition I was aware of. The table could probably seat fourteen or sixteen people, but there was only one man there.

"Thanks, Desiree... Mr. Noonan, welcome to Florida. I'm Keith Johnston, a Hurricane Specialist here. The others are doing some last-minute observations of hurricane Natalie. If you want a coffee, tea, or water, please help yourself. The others shouldn't be more than a few minutes."

"Thank you, Mr. Johnston."

"Keith, please. We'd essentially be peers if you were already working here."

"And I'm Peter, or PC if you prefer."

"PC?"

"My middle name is Carey. I was just a kid when my brother tagged me with it. He was AJ, so I ended up being PC."

"PC works."

Keith and I made some more small talk for about three minutes, then people started walking in. When the six people I'd expected walked in, Keith stood up to leave.

Jonathan Barclay, the director, halted him, "You can stay, Keith. I think getting a peer's impression of Mr. Noonan would be useful."

"Okay. Thanks."

Elena Young, the deputy director walked me through what I might be doing here as a Hurricane Specialist. Then the questions started. They asked about my schooling, my experiences at KDF-TV, and hurricane Lorraine. Then the hard question was thrown at me by Jonathan.

"Can you describe exactly how you determined Lorraine would do what she did?"

"Well, to be honest, I simply just knew. You'll probably think I'm crazy, but I can 'see' where the hurricane will actually travel."

After a couple seconds of hesitation, Jonathan continued, "See?"

"Yes. I was fifteen when I noticed it. I've been able to look at the maps and models and see its path and where the hurricane will touch land."

Jonathan looked around the room. Everybody was obviously as surprised as he was.

"No offense, Peter, if I may call you Peter?"

I nodded.

"I find that extremely hard to believe."

"I know. And I even considered hiding that fact. I do understand the science, calculations, et cetera, and have independently checked the data that way, and I am always within a few miles of where the most prevalent models indicate for landfall. Sometimes, I just see it differently."

"Interesting. How about a test, Peter?"

"Whatever you wish."

"Turn on monitor 1, if you wouldn't mind, Keith."

"Not at all."

Keith picked up a remote, pushed a couple buttons and a satellite image of tropical storm Natalie appeared on one of the large monitors on the wall.

"Could you zoom out a bit?"

Keith did so.

"And now the latest trajectory map?"

Jonathan nodded at Keith. The second monitor lit up, centered on the east coast of central Florida. The most prevalent paths were calling for landfall just north of Satellite Beach.

"This one is pretty much on target, but landfall will be about eight miles further south, near Indialantic, rather than Satellite Beach or even more slightly north."

Jonathan looked across the table at the Senior Hurricane Specialists, "Comments?"

Their consensus was that it couldn't hit land anything more than three miles south of the current southernmost projection. Jonathan agreed, as did the rest of the staff present.

Jonathan looked directly at me, focused on my eyes, "And you're sure of this?"

"Completely."

He watched me for a few more seconds. I don't know if he expected me to say something, but then he spoke again, "Landfall is expected around one AM Friday. Will you stay until Friday afternoon?"

"I'm sure I can check with my boss, and..."

"If you give me his name and number, I will ensure he approves a longer stay. The NHC will cover your additional expenses."

"In that case, yes, I will stay until Friday."

"Octavious is a little further out. Do you think you can tell us where he's headed?

I said I could. He again nodded to Keith; the two screens changed. Octavious was headed for the gulf.

"He's a little trickier, because based on where he is going, there will be three sites. Can you zoom in on the east coast of Andros Island, Bahamas please Keith? Overlay town names, if you can?"

"It will cross Andros south of Moxey Town. Now the Keys?" I waited until the view changed, "It will cross there at Duck Key. Finally, the Florida panhandle?"

I waited until that view was in place, "The westernmost point of St. Vincent Island will be the third."

"Miguel, can you set him up with a space in the Atlantic observation room from now through Friday?"

Miguel Chavez was the Hurricane Specialist Unit Branch Chief, "Of course."

"Peter, for the next three days, you will be a guest of the NHC. I'll see that you get credentials to enter and leave the building, and the Atlantic observation room. Keith, will you show him to the room? I'd like you to keep tabs on these two storms, Peter."

Keith nodded, and I replied, "I can do that."

"Fine. I'll check back with you at the end of the day, I'll say four o'clock, and see if you have anything different to share."

Copyright © 2024 Lee Wilson; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

The possible problem I see for Peter is that if he proves to be gifted there will be an expectation he will always be right, and if he is ever wrong, even just once, he will be crucified. Should he have disclosed his gift? I think he was foolish to do so, but then I have little faith in my own species as there will be those who will want to benefit from Peter's gift by whatever means it takes.

I am not familiar with Dennis Yost & Classics IV @Lee Wilson, but I did like a few songs by Atlanta Rhythm Section, especially So Into You and to a lesser extent, Imaginary Lover. They had no success in Australia at all, I only knew of them because I listened to Casey Kasem's American Top 40. 

Edited by Summerabbacat
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1 hour ago, Summerabbacat said:

The possible problem I see for Peter is that if he proves to be gifted there will be an expectation he will always be right, and if he is ever wrong, even just once, he will be crucified. Should he have disclosed his gift? I think he was foolish to do so, but then I have little faith in my own species as there will be those who will want to benefit from Peter's gift by whatever means it takes.

I am not familiar with Dennis Yost & Classics IV @Lee Wilson, but I did like a few songs by Atlanta Rhythm Section, especially So Into You and to a lesser extent, Imaginary Lover. They had no success in Australia at all, I only knew of them because I listened to Casey Kasem's American Top 40. 

So far, I haven’t had any thoughts of him being wrong, so we needn’t go down that path.

The Classics IV big hit was “Stormy.” And I bet there are lots of groups popular here and not in Australia.

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