The level of engrossment here in this moment is multi layered. The boys camped out in the space behind the ancient tree not either anticipating the scope's use or completing use of same have found another distraction now to deal with, each them in their own way. Isaac is resting after his triumph of a proof which has and will again make grown men cry real tears of pain and suffering, his puffy eyes shut and his brain now thinking of eating apple after apple until his pale belly bloats. And lastly, the mother, the well intentioned and innocent mother doing her chores, just trying to cool off from the midday heat, is highly distracted by the feeling the water brings to her skin. Not in a sexually pleasurable way in which the goons would imagine it, but in a simple and pure way, one similar to the pleasure of lying in a bed in the dark with a window open and rain falling nearby.
As the men of the village are all off making pens or wine or cheese or whatever else the French make, and the late May boys and girls not hiding behind trees or inside of math books are in a schoolhouse learning, and the other maidens of the outdoors are being swept up into the hearty tornado fast approaching, there is really no one else here in the village to warn of the imminent danger facing them all.
It is important to remember that this scene is unfolding in a matter of moments. It was Isaac whose personal spell was first broken by the sound of the tornado, a hollow rushing noise. Without knowing it was a tornado, he knew deep down that something bad was about to happen and felt a sense of urgency pulling him outside to check on the location of his mother. What he saw all at once was the scene just now described. First he saw his mother and the ladle of water falling onto her breasts, his first actual gander at the breasts since his forgotten suckling days of youth. And then in avoidance of this intrusion on his part, he spies the glint of glass reflecting the last ray of sun in a sky of dark clouds common to pre-tornadic weather patterns. Only a brief instance until he sees who is holding the scope he constructed now being used to spy the nakedness of his mother. By the time it registers what it going on here in the yard, the tornado funnel is upon them and Isaac is forced to decide between his mother's safety and vengeance.
As the tornado makes its way to the scene, Isaac begins to dive toward his mother in an effort to push her out of the way. As he does this, two chickens are shot from the churning tornado like bullets from a chicken gun. One chicken strikes his topless mother in the side of the head, knocking her down into an as yet unseen ravine running north-south along the property. The thought of how this low lying area is perfect for the safety of a loved one in times of tornados in yards has just begun the first stages of recognition in Isaac's mind when the second chicken completes its path from tornado to Isaac's mid thigh region on his left leg. But instead of merely striking him and knocking him down, the chicken's positioning is more linear and face first, allowing the unconscious beak of the chicken to insert itself knife like, deep into the muscle of the thigh of the boy genius at a frighteningly perfect ninety degree angle. If x-ray technology were available in these times, the developed film would show the outline of a chicken with its head inside of the leg of a boy, and somehow even stranger than this, with its beak clamping onto the femur like a dog chews on a juicy bone.
With his quick analytical mind and perception of the physical world, Isaac is able to discern, as if by magic to the outside observer, that the tornado is getting ready to make a change which will not reduce him in its path. He knows this because he knows the earliest underlying principles of both fluid dynamics and what will one day be called Chaos theory. For the ease of the transition of this story into the New History, the reader will need to ignore the now possibly braying thought that there is just no way. If this were a movie, at most you would be confused, but would soon forget all about it when everything begins to explode, including things which would never even dream of exploding.
And so, to continue, the reasons Isaac can predict the direction of the tornado in the next few moments is twofold. A) He feels the chicken which is lodged in his leg muscle and clamped to his femur begin to pull ever so slightly, indicating that the rotation of the tornado is shifting back onto itself, causing it to spin in a clockwise fashion, as compared to its previous counter-clockwise one. And, B) this reversal of tornado rotation, which excellent for his well-being, is going to be pretty terrible for the newly doomed, the gaggle of misspent youth.
Regardless of Isaac's feelings up to this point in time regarding his classmates, he uses this two second delay in tornado redirection to act in a heroic way. (As all of this has been happening in the space of three to five seconds, the boys are still fighting for possession of the telescope, and have yet not established as a group that the woman of their teen affection is now unconscious and prone due to a chicken club to the head, her most feminine and motherly features now hidden from view, and, as if by some miracle, have also not noticed the very gruesome tornado (with wind speeds, if measurable, of up to 400 kph, beginning to make its way to them and their rooted hideout.)) What he does is instinctive and true to his nature. He runs to the base of the tree and grabs the scope from its possessor, throwing it behind him, only to be swallowed by the maw of spinning air, cows, chickens, farm maidens, and other detritus. The sudden loudness of wind and churning in the air prevents him from speaking, even yelling is pointless. He grabs the lead boy by the scruff and begins to drag him toward the gully, the other boys following like the lemmings they are.
At this point the tornado shifts position and engulfs the oak tree and its surrounding area. When the tornado departs and begins to move down the valley toward the village, there is no longer an ancient and wise old tree standing, but rather there is an enormous crater where the root system used to reside. There are piles of earth surrounding the hole, and large amounts of 16th century style farm related tools and materials scattered on the ground. The requisite number of unconscious chickens and cows are littered about the site; a neighboring farm wife resides in an unharmed Ginkgo just on the other side of the residence.
As the boys and mother exit the ravine, shaking from shock, the mother covering herself again to no one's notice, they as a group look around and toward the village located in the valley. The giant oak is lying inside and all over a house, and more of the same debris field lines the walls of the narrow slope defining the course between them and the village below. Isaac grasps the chicken by the neck and removes it from his leg in one swift motion, tossing it aside. As if by some prearranged plot, all of the chickens and cows and farm maidens displaced by the tornado begin to regain consciousness, including Isaac's, once thought surely for dead. No one speaks. They all just stand and stare about, not able yet to realize each other's presence, or what they may have been doing just ten minutes ago. The boys begin to walk off, each to his damaged home and mother.
Isaac's leg is bleeding as he limps to his mother and stands next to her, beginning now to think clearly of what has just happened. As his mother sees his wound and rushes to stop the bleeding, Isaac can only stand in silence and watch her frantic motions, thinking not of his injured leg and pain, but more of the day before him, the sun once again present and hot, birds returning to their work, insects burrowing to elude birds. He picks up the discarded telescope lying next to him, its forward lens a spider web of cracks. He holds the scope up to the world before him and sees it for the first time as it was meant to be seen. Jagged edges falling into a distracted blur, confusing and perfect.
