Thunder and Lightning
"I woke last night to the sound of thunder.
How far off I sat and wondered...
Ain't it funny how the night moves."
- Bob Seger / Night Moves
Chapter one -
A loud clap of thunder woke me. Blinking my eyes, and rubbing my face, I turned to look out my bedroom window. A flash of lightning lit up my room, followed by an instantaneous repeat of a thunderclap, telling me the storm was close - very close. Moments later, I heard my father's voice.
"No, God dammit! She's too old for this shit! Go to your room, Julie - now!"
Julie, wailing in protest, ran past my room with her feet pounding down the hallway. The storm, the argument, and the crying all served to fully wake me, and I sat up in bed. This family storm had been building for quite some time. My father's reaction on that night, in 1976, was akin to a volcanic eruption - he'd had enough.
Swinging my legs off the bed, I stretched and yawned, before reaching for my water glass. Holding the glass after drinking, I waited for the inevitable. Sure enough, it came as a soft, barely audible, knock on my door.
Rising, I went to the door, and opened it, finding Julie - not unsurprisingly. With a sweep of my arm, I invited her in, just as another lightning discharge happened. The resultant thunderclap sent her running to the chair at my desk, shaking like a windblown leaf, with legs drawn up, and arms wrapped around her knees.
"He's right, you know," I whispered, taking a seat on the edge of my bed.
Still sniffling, she nodded her head. "Yeah, but he didn't have to be so mean, and swear," she whispered back.
"Maybe, but you are sixteen after all... so look, you can stay here until the storm Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β ends."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, take the bed. I have a sleeping bag in the closet."
I grinned, watching her rapid, one-foot hop from chair to bed.
With just her eyes, and nose visible from under the bedding, I heard a muffled question. "You are sleeping by the bed, right?"
"Go to sleep, chicken little," I said, but nodded at her question.
Waking to my mother's touch, I rose up resting on my elbow.
"She been here all night?"
Half rolling, I looked up to see Julie's arm hanging off the bed.
"Guess so, I told her she could stay until the storm stopped," I replied, yawning.
At my mother's urging, I got up, leaving Julie to sleep, it was the weekend. We were alone, in the kitchen, when Julie became the topic for discussion.
With arms crossed, holding a coffee cup to her lips, she began.
"So, how did the night go?"
"All right... there were a couple of claps that got to her," I commented, pouring a cup for myself.
"You're a good man, Charlie Brown, not many brothers would be so kind, thank you."
I grinned, having always liked my mother's reference to the cartoon character, when she felt I'd done something good. Fact being, my name is Charlie, well Charles to be exact.
"Thanks, dad got a bit hostile last night, huh?"
With a worried nod, she acknowledged my question. "You heard, I take it?"
Offering a warm smile, I said, "Yes," without elaborating, and watched my mother turn, looking out the kitchen window.
"You know, Charlie, I really thought she'd have gotten over this..." her voice trailed off, and she sighed, leaving what she was going to say hanging.
"Look, I don't mind if she comes to my room. I mean, it's not like there's storms every night."
My mother, Emma, turned around to face me, and I thought I could see relief on her face.
"Charlie, I can't ask that of you. Julie really needs to come to grips with her fear," she replied.
Chuckling, I had to agree, but told my mom that Julie coming to grips might be a long time off, and then added,
"Besides, I sleep alone, unlike you and dad, so she wouldn't be interrupting anything," and threw in a grin for good measure.
"Charles Newsome, just what are you hinting at!?" she said, as a blush formed on her cheeks.
Laughing, I was about to ease my mother's concern, when Julie walked in, yawning and stretching.
"Morning," she announced, heading straight for the refrigerator, as we greeted her in kind.
The look on my mother's face seemed obvious, she intended to talk with Julie, but I shook my head, and waved her off. Julie, with head buried inside the refrigerator, was none the wiser. Pouring a second cup of coffee, our mother left, mouthing the words 'good luck' to me, as she left.
"So, Jules... you got a minute?" I began.
My plan was simple. I hoped I might ease her fear if I got her to understand more about storms. To that end, I pushed a chair away from the kitchen table, when she closed the refrigerator.
"Have a seat, sis."
"What's up?" she asked, holding off on joining me.
"Nothing much, just wanted to talk," I explained, tapping on the table.
"This about last night?" she questioned, rolling her eyes, already forming an attitude.
"Yes... and no, sit down - please."
With obvious reluctance, she took a seat, and dug into the yogurt she'd retrieved.
I began with a question.
"Sis, do you know anything about storms?"
"No, not really... why?" she asked, pausing her eating.
"Well, I thought if you understood more about them, it might help with your - "
"Problem," she said, in a rather snotty way, cutting off my comment.
"I was going to say - fear."
"Oh, sorry."
Accepting her apology, I began to explain...
"So, there you have it, simple right?" I said, ending the explanation and plan, I thought might help her.
"Seriously? Are you bullshitting me?"
I shook my head.
"Okay, so you're telling me I can count the seconds between a lightning flash, and thunder, and know how far off or close a storm is?"
"Yup, swear to God."
"And just how is that supposed to help me?" she asked, still sounding skeptical.