'Dad, you've seen the changes my writing has brought to this town, I know I can do more out there.'
'I know, Clark, I know, but...you're barely seventeen. Focus on college for now, please?'
'Dad, come on, I-'
'He has almost graduated, Jonathan,' interrupts Martha.
'Those are remote classes, Martha, and you heard Mr Phillips: Clark could be a great scientist or even an inventor. He can make a difference that way, the way he did when he fixed our thresher.'
'That's not fair, Dad. Please?'
'Son, just...give me this for now. Please? I just...it feels like you're growing up too fast.'
'Fine,' mumbles Clark, slumping into his seat.
Ahead of them they see the storm, and the abandoned cars. Clark leans forward, his eyes wide at first and then squinting, and then wide again. 'It's turning, Pa. It's going to head this way.'
'You're sure?'
'Positive.' Clark looks out of the back of the truck. 'There are too many cars back there to get everyone to turn around, and...no, it's picking up speed.'
'The ditch. Go. Go!'
They clamour out of the car and head to the ditch. Seeing a woman struggling with her children, Jonathan hurries forward to help. All around them panicking people are running, stumbling, falling, and children are crying and struggling.
'Pa!' shouts Clark, and Jonathan nods and shouts back, 'Be careful!'
Clark hurries to the nearest car and tugs at the belt holding in the child safety seat. The belt snaps and Clark pulls out the seat and hands it the child's mother, and tells her to get to the ditch. Martha ushers people to the ditch while Jonathan, Clark, and other people try to help those around them.
A woman stumbles and hurts her leg, and her daughters scream and try to help her up. Clark shouts to his father and the others: 'These are the last ones! Get to the ditch!' and hurries over to her and tells her to get on his back while he carries two of the girls under this arms and the third against his chest. The woman and the girls are screaming against the wind as Clark easily makes his way to the ditch. At the ditch, the woman, helped by Martha, slides off and slumps painfully to the ground, and Clark places two of the girls onto the ground and tries to coax off the one clinging to his neck. From the corner of his eye he sees Jonathan stumble and struggle against the wind.
'Honey, please, you have to let go. I need to go back and help.' The girl is screaming, crying into Clark's chest and Clark sees the winds getting stronger and Jonathan struggling more. 'Please, honey, let me go.' Cars are getting tossed into the air and the other two girls suddenly grab onto Clark's legs.
'Ma!' shouts Clark, desperately. 'Take them. I can save him.' Martha and the girls' mother try to get the girls to let Clark go and Clark, helpless, watches his father struggle.
'Don't,' Jonathan coughs, as he struggles to stand upright. 'You did good, son,' he whispers as he grabs at the side of a car. 'I'm proud of you.'
Clark screams in anguish, fighting every urge to pull the girls off him and rush to his father's aid, and Martha hides her face against his back.
'I made a choice that day, Ms Lane. A choice I knew my father would have me wanted to make, but it was the hardest one I had ever had to make. I could have removed the girls, but I would have hurt them in doing so. I could have rushed to him and saved him, but I would have hurt him and others around me in doing so.
'My father taught me that there is a right and a wrong in the universe and that the distinction isn't a difficult one, but that day the right felt so wrong. My father died in order to keep this secret. He died because the world wasn't ready for something like me.'
'I think the world's ready now, Clark. I really do.'