And just like a locomotive was near, the ground shook with the storm’s vibrations. In the storm cellar, some of the paneling that lined the walls creaked and groaned, making their haven feel even more precarious. Above their heads, the lamp swung wildly back and forth, casting flashes of light into the shadows.John eyed it worriedly. He momentarily considered standing up and lifting it off the hook, but ultimately decided against it. Though he was trying hard to act unflustered, the deafening roar above them was scaring him something awful.Beside him, Mary flinched as they heard a crash.“Do you think that was the house?” Abel asked. “Do you think that was our house coming apart?”Though John ached to tell the boy what he wanted to hear, he was even less willing to give him false hope. Only God knew what was happening above them.“I don’t know. Perhaps it was just some shingles.” As more debris thumped above them, and the ground continued to shake, John added more loudly, “Abel, Mary, I’m afraid this sounds bad.
