My Easter With Jill

MY EASTER WITH JILL

The rain pelted the window with a force that sounded like pebbles striking hard against the pane. The wind accompanied the rain, like percussion instruments in a symphony.
I stood at the large picture window watching the magnolia tree sway back and forth. The branches scraping the roof with each gust of wind. Across the street smaller versions of the tree that stood in our yard, bowed with the wind. Limbs of the miniatures were breaking and landing in the street.
The weather seemed to be a constant companion to my mood. Easter Sunday alone in the house with just my little dog Jill. I don’t know how long we stood there watching as cars got stuck in the waters flooding the street.
My parents and younger brother had been gone since the early morning. They had decided to spend Easter in San Diego with my grandparents. Why I wasn’t invited I never asked.
As the wind built up more power, I scooped up Jill and went down the hall. I had stored up on candy, chips, and soda for this day, this would be my Easter Sunday dinner. Not anything illustrious like a roasted capon, fresh green beans, new potatoes, and strawberry pie,just a junk food binge.
We climbed in my parents bed and I turned on the TV. I didn’t want to watch the news, I was already gloomy. So we turned to channel 5. It was always good for old movies. Today it was the Wax Museum. Vincent Price’s voice boomed in the empty house. Jill and I snuggled under the covers.
The one thing about Jill was she thought that she was human, and should have all the human comforts. So she was the first under the covers wiggling, and scooting till she became apart of my chest.
On the chair that sat next to the bed was a bag of M&M’s with peanuts. I grabbed the bag and began popping the candy in my mouth,not willing to feel sorry for myself. Jill stared at me as if I had been remised in my duties by not sharing. I had placed a bag of imitation bacon strips for dogs, on the chair. I opened the bag and gave Jill her piece.
Together we laid there watching the movie. My interest began to fade as the sun disappeared from the sky. Over the detergent commercial I could hear the wind howl as it traveled between our house and the house next door. I kept praying that the phone would ring. It remained silent.
As the movie started again a crack of lightening lit the room, and the thunder rumbled shaking the windows. Jill climbed on my chest so I could protect her. Holding her close I managed to get out of the bed to see the limb of the lemon tree in the backyard fall with a distinct crash.
I took a deep breath more to settle my nerves than anything else. Then a sound of metal smashing and a large bang, echoed through the house. I ran up front holding Jill as close as I could. There in the middle of the street our neighbors tree had fallen.
The tree was old and taller than most of the trees on the block. When it fell it smashed two parked cars, and blocked the street. The water now was rising very high.
I prayed that we wouldn’t get blown away, or that Jill wouldn’t want to go potty.
Sirens rang out and people battled the weather to reach the cars that lay beneath the fallen giant. I stood in the house watching from the safety of the picture window. Fingers of lightening stretched out over the dark sky as the rumbling and growling of thunder traveling with the wind shook the house.
I stood there watching the water rise up the driveway. Fear reigned and I decided to call my parents just for a touch of sanity. Going into the kitchen I looked out the breakfast room window, Jill still held close as she shook with fear. I picked up the phone and dialed my grandparents number.

The line was dead. No phone service, alone in the house with a terrified dog and the weather raining havoc on an unsuspecting world I felt totally cut off from all civilization. Once again I wondered why I was alone.
By 11:00 that night the storm had finally abated. Jill and I had fallen asleep while we waited for the return of the family. When we awoke my parents were standing over us. I smiled sheepishly and removed Jill from the bed.
The next morning the water had receded till there were small puddles here and there. The big tree still lay in the street, encapsulating the two cars. Debris filled the streets. Jill and I were still breathing and Easter had passed.
I promised Jill that next Easter we would be going to San Diego with the family.