Tuesday, July 8, 2008
bubbles in the storm
She notices that the room has gotten darker and so she turns from the stove to look out of the dining room window. The blue sky and puffy clouds are gone, replaced by boiling dark ones. On the horizon the sky is black except for flashes of lightening. The wind has picked up considerably and she hears the metal bucket on the porch slam against the back door.
“Mama?” She looks down into the wary eyes of four year old Emily.
“Baby its fine, just a little wind. Should we get the bubbles?’ The little girl smiles at her as she goes into the pantry and pulls out a large yellow plastic bottle. She pours some of the liquid in a glass and they head out to the porch.
The dogs are pacing nervously but she ignores them. Pushing the fear down she opens the backdoor. There’s a blast of wind but she chatters to the little girl about fairies and flowers. Soon the two of them are engrossed in watching the bubbles dance around the yard. They dip the bubble wand into the liquid and hold it up for the wind to blow dozens of bubbles, big and small across the yard.
Lightening flashes and the thunder rumbles but they barely hear it. Soon the rain starts the they watch as the bubbles come to rest on the wet grass until the rain drops pop them or a gust of wind sends them off flying again.
She scans the horizon, pleased to see the boiling clouds have passed and the sky has lightened. It seems the worst of the storm is past. Her shoulders relax a bit and soon they head back into the house. She goes back into the kitchen to finish dinner. The two of them eat together then bath time and soon its time for bed. Once all the doors are locked and the lights are off she lays down, smiles as she recalls the bubbles, happy to have survived another storm in this lonely, isolated place. Before she falls asleep she wonders if anyone else knows the fear that she hides behind bubbles and smiles.