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| >> Static Item >> Short Story >> Family >> ID #1433521 |   |
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This item was written for the "15 for 15 Contest --- Starts June 6"
 contest where participants are given a photograph and can write about it for 15 minutes only.Today's picture showed a little girl splashing in water. To see the picture, visit the contest forum linked above. Look for "Past Image Prompts" beneath the current prompt photo, and click on "June 1" - Water. The park was always the perfect place to be when hot weather came. The concrete around the shaded building was always cool to the touch and on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays a volunteer would open the building and the neighborhood kids could do arts and crafts projects. Sometimes they would even turn on the sprinklers and we'd run through the misting water to cool off. This year was different. It had been a dry spring with very little snow. Even during spring thaw the river, which usually swelled and outgrew its banks, was only a foot deeper than usual. Spring was dry as well; the flowers were small and deformed from the lack of water and yards stayed brown. Trees budded, but the leaves quickly withered in the heat of the sun. As summer approached, a film of dust covered everything in sight; it would billow behind my brothers when they rode their bikes down the street. A stranger came to our door one day handing out fliers from the city, telling residents to limit their use of water because the reservoir was low. My friends and I hiked up to have a look at it for ourselves; it was lower than we'd ever seen it, and we hiked up to see if every summer since we turned ten. We were teenagers now and knew the damage a shortage of water could inflict on a town. The dry warmth of late spring turned to the scorching heat of summer. It radiated off the roofs, cars, and streets, creating mirages of water in the distance. The grass at the park was dry and brittle, crackling as we walked across it to the building. We were old enough to volunteer so my friends and I opened the building and taught the neighborhood youngsters arts and crafts in the cool dimness of the shade. One afternoon we saw a cloud forming over the mesa; we'd watched cumulonimbus clouds form there in years past. The moisture would billow in and the cloud would grow tall and fat; the bottom would flatten like an anvil and change from white to dark gray. Lightning and thunder were sure to follow, bringing heavy rain. "Do you think it will keep growing?" Craig asked, eying the cloud. "Dunno. There have been other clouds form there this year but the heat drives them back," Lori reminded. "Let's kep an eye on it," I suggested, handing each of my friends a package of art supplies. As the children worked on their projects, we forgot about the cloud. In the darkness of the shade, we didn't realize the diminishing light until we were frightened by a clap of thunder that shook the ground and echoed around the valley, reverberating off the surrounding mountains. "Get inside!" Craig shouted. We switched on the single light bulb and huddled inside the crowded building with ten frightened children. Through the crack beneath the door and the screened ventilation holes, we saw the lightening flash. The thunder roared; you could hear it begin as a low growl at one end of the valley and roll across the sky until it broke on the facing mountain range. The sound of the rain was deafening, but grew even louder when hail began to fall. "I'm looking out," Craig said bravely. He opened the door as huge hailstones crashed to the pavement. The park grounds were filled with baseball-sized chunks of ice. Lori held the door open as Craig used the push broom to pull a few chunks inside to show the children. The storm passed quickly and square beams of sunshine penetrated the dark interior of the building through the ventilation holes. Outside, a vibrant rainbow stretched from one side of the valley to the other ending somewhere behind the mesa. We could see parents rushing toward the park from surrounding streets, looking for their children. Hail dotted the yards and water flowed down the sides of the streets. The dust that had covered everything for months was washed away, making everything look clean and bright. The water was as refreshing for us as it was for the earth. Children splashed in the puddles on their way home and this time, parents didn't seem to mind. It would take quite a bit more rain to make up for the dry spring and summer we had experienced, but this storm was the beginning of a weather pattern that would bring some relief.
© Copyright 2008 justme (UN: debwrites at Writing.Com).
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