Under the Threat of Thunder

by Magdalen Aithne Arkwright

Selma stood restlessly at the window, looking anxiously for the first flash of what was to come.  Her father was in the city and her mother at the church, and Selma was left in charge of the house while they were gone.  It was interesting to think that Mrs. Kearney had gone, even with the threat of danger approaching on her heels, but if the danger came, it would likely hit the house and the church.  It would be just as well if she were praying in the chapel.  Anyway, Selma was responsible and level-headed.

Then it came - flash!  Selma waited on the edge of her toes.  Rumble! came the thunder.  "It's getting closer," she mumbled.

"You need to move the boxes back on the porch," said a voice stretched out on a bed.  Ruby was six years younger and hated thunderstorms.  She shared a room with Selma.

"I did," said Selma.

Ruby shook her head, gazing stupidly at her.  "No, you didn't." she said.  This was rather a bad habit of hers.

Selma looked back out the window, irritated.  A cool breeze came in through the window, stale and moist.

"Shouldn't we close the windows?" asked Ruby.

"We don't need to yet," said Selma.  Thunder continued to roll.  Then, suddenly, the robin, who had a nest nearby, chirruped.  Selma relaxed a bit.  The bird sounded alarmed, but Selma was alarmed when all the wildlife was quiet.  After a moment, the obnoxious mating call of the toads started up again.  Nature resumed, but not without hesitation.  This wind that blew the trees was talking vicious, not nice.

"If mommy and daddy died, what would happen to us?" asked Ruby.

"We'd go to the Smiths," said Selma, turning away from the window.  She thought she saw lightning.

"But what would happen to the house?" Ruby persisted.

"I think the house would be sold," Selma said slowly.  "I don't remember all the details."

"But all that hard work!" protested Ruby, referring to all the renovations.

"Don't worry about that," scolded Selma.  "They're not going to die.  What you need to worry about is that math test."  Ruby fell back again with an exasperated sigh, and Selma noticed that all she could hear now were the cars on the main road.  The wildlife was silent again.

There had been reports of really bad weather down south - weather so bad it left hundreds homeless, and other hundreds dead.  Meteorologists said it was heading north, but no one had shown any real concern.  Now there was a bad storm forming just west and a little south of where they lived, and there was a tornado watch until 8 P.M.

Then there was a female voice in the den, and Selma wondered what could have made Amber come away from the TV.  Ruby looked into the hall and jumped out of bed.  "Mom!" she exclaimed.  "I thought you were at Adoration."

"Daddy met me down there and I brought his car back," said Mom.  "He didn't want me out driving."

She straightened Ruby's bed and Selma noticed the birds had resumed their singing.  "Come on, Rube, just finish the test!"  And then she was gone again.

"Mom, where's D -"  Ruby started to follow her.

"Ruby, it's not important," Selma said, frustrated.  "What's important is you finishing that math test."

"I just gotta ask Momma a question," said Ruby.

"It's not important!" Selma repeated.

"It's not what you think," said Ruby.

"What is it then?"

"It's - It's - hard to explain.  You wouldn't understand."  Ruby tried to leave.

Selma heard a few splatters on leaves outside.  "Ruby," she said.

"I'm just going to ask if I can take this off," said Ruby.  She tapped her brace and disappeared.  Ruby had scoliosis and had to wear a brace most of the time.  In a moment she was back, dejected, only for a minute before the garage door beneath them opened.  Ruby grabbed up her math and rushed off.  "Gotta ask Mom something."

Selma let her go.  For a while, she just sat in her desk chair, listening to the thunder and bird calls which both came and went.  The breeze spoke mean words but it felt refreshing.  The rain had ending before it began.

The loud clomping of Ruby's footsteps could soon be heard coming up the stairs and across the den.  "Mommy wants you down in the living room - for some... I don't know why.  And apparently we're having breakfast for - uh - brunch.  The storm passed us!  We're safe."

Selma nodded violently to stop Ruby's endless string of noise and followed her downstairs.  Mom was making waffles, Dad was making bacon, and the siblings were watching TV.  The dog was wandering around, panting hard.  The storm was indeed passing: thunder rolled somewhere off in the distance and birds had gone back to chirping.

Selma looked out at the clouds that were getting lighter and thinner.  The wind wasn't swearing anymore; it only had nice things to say.  Strangely, it was very quiet, except for some distant thundering, but things were calm and not suffocating.  Nothing had happened.

What a disappointment.