Page 9 of Out of the Storm

“Tornadoes, hurricanes, thunderstorms?”

“Tornadoes.”

“Okay, Ireallywant to know more, and I’m sure some of our listeners would too. What would you say to setting up an interview sometime?”

Blowing out a long breath, Jeff raked a hand through his hair. Going on the radio to chat with local radio star Gary Graham about his storm-chasing trips? Hm. Not exactly how he wanted to spend his free time.

“Come on, Billy, it’ll be fun.”

Jeff pursed his lips, turning the notion over in his head. Yeah, probably not the kind of fun he had suddenly found himself wanting to have with the radio man. But...

But he couldn’t resist the urge to spend some more time with him. In person.

“Yeah, okay,” Jeff said. “I’ll call.”

“Great!” Gary exclaimed. “So, ketchupor—”

Without responding, Jeff hung up.

After making his way back across the room, he flung himself onto the bed and let himself become lost in Gary’s voice.

***

When Gary’s radio show ended about one hour later, Jeff’s muscles were practically screaming from exhaustion, and he was still fighting to keep his eyes from fluttering closed, as he had been every couple of minutes since hanging up the phone. For the last hour, Jeff had continued to listen to the mind-numbing music of WKBR only so that he could hear Gary’s voice between songs. Each blip of Gary-commentary lasted less than thirty seconds (with the exception of the eight minutes he had spent talking about the upcoming events in town), and yet, somehow, Jeff couldn’t help but feel like it was worth it. During one of the brief commercial breaks, Gary had been crowing about a few local businesses, and,fucking hell, the sound of his voice had nearly sent Jeff over the edge. If he’d been feeling more energetic, he could have probably finished himself to the way Gary had said,“Come check out the new ceramic center! Thirty percent off of everything this weekend!”Wasted potential, that voice of his.

Now a little less intoxicated than he was earlier, Jeff dragged himself out of bed, stumbled across the room, and picked up the phone to schedule that interview, hoping he wouldn’t regret it in the morning. Gary answered right away.

“Hello?”

“Hey. I’m calling to set up that interview.”

Gary sucked in a breath, loud enough that Jeff could hear it over the phone.

“Billy McCoy. Good to hear from you.”

Jeff snorted. Jesus. Still oblivious.

“Bronco Billy,” he said.

“I’m sorry?”

Even though Gary couldn’t see him, Jeff still shook his head. “Billy McCoy is the stuntman inBronco Billy.”

“Wait, with Clint Eastwood?”

“Right.”

“Oh! Is it because I called you Eastwood earlier?”

“Yeah.”

Gary started to laugh. “Oh my God! He was a shoe salesman too, wasn’t he?”

“Only took you...” Jeff looked over at the clock, furrowing his brow as he tried to work out the math in his head. “... seven hours to figure it out.”

“Geez, everyone in Niles must think I’m thick in the head,” Gary lamented.

“Nah, I think they’re convinced that there’s some severe-weather fanatic named Billy McCoy living here now.”

---