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It Thundered
So dark it was, as murky and so gloomy that the world seemed to be swallowed by a mysterious higher power. It rained and stormed and thundered, continuously, for the two days and nights passed lately.
For the elderly it was such a depressing event to occur, because they could not go outside to do their daily jobs. But for the young ones, Josh, Henry, Anne and Peter, it was an occasion of celebration, since they hadn't had to go to school and could play all day long at home. Although Peter, the oldest of the youngests, didn't look much joyous that day.
“Should we bake a cake?” Was little Anne's suggestion.
“Let's.” The boys agreed, lastly did the motionless creature, Peter, for he had to answer his sister's glowing gaze.
“We have everything, though, leaving Milk. And we need milk,” he said. “And for your awareness, we don't have even a drop. Father could not go to the dairy, as you know.”
“Yeah, but we can ask some from aunt Helen, can't we?” Josh insisted hopefully.
But they couldn't. Even if they would have survived the storm, if they dared to venture outside, and successfully came back home, unpleasantness would have been waiting for them. They would jump from a tree, enter a lion's cage, gleefully walk down to hell-fire but wouldn't face Mr Henrique's inquiries—God saves, death promises to be much more pleasurable than that—For certainty.
“Uncle wouldn't know.”
“Josh.” Peter sighed, giggling, not negatively, neither in the affirmative.
“What should we do then,” Henry said. “Better let's leave the idea. Let's do something else. Let's—”
Let's what – It thundered hardly before he finished. And it thundered one more time. And for another time.
And again, it thundered.
Almost an hour passed in the Attic of Henriques' house, leaving four living-breathing spirits nothing to do, but to look outside from the window, as it rained and thundered. It rained cats and dogs and thundered hard.
“I will go.”
Three pairs of eyes could be seen looking out from the window eagerly, observing a shadow. 5.4 inches tall, a brave lad, was walking on. Did not he care about the lunatic wind, neither he feared enough the sky's barking, perhaps warnings, to stop his march. As a minute or five had passed, the shadow couldn't be glimpsed anymore – The indication that he has reached the other side of the road successfully.
It thundered.
But mysteriously enough, the shadow wasn't seen to put his footsteps in the domain reachable for the sight of human for the second time. It was expected from Peter to come back within half an hour, but three had passed, as did another one. The little ones became anxious, so were the aged folks.
“You pieces of – YOU DAMN PIECES OF – Why the hell did you let your brother – GO OUTSIDE – In this HORRIBLE WEATHER – WITHOUT TELLING ME?” The red-headed man had to pause between his yells, so furious he went, his words struggled to come out. He looked at his daughter, angrily, as fierce as he would eat her, and then at his nephews. For the three, the option was but to cry.
“What do I do now?” Annes's cousin's aunt's husband shrieked. “WHAT DO I DO NOW? WHERE DO I FIND MY SON – MY ONE AND ONLY SON.”
The women and the children sobbed, cried and moaned. Little prayers were being said once in a while, by the grown-ups, as the young ones Amened. Along them cried the sky, and thundered. In the midst of all the cries and prayers and whines, some men matured in age were in search of a young soul, a fresh one, as well as brave.
Anne's and Josh's sobbing stopped, as did the cries of women. Someone knocked on the door. It was morning by that time, the clouds in the sky had been cleared away. As the door was opened, men entered the house. Behind them, they could see something tall was wrapped in a white sheet. There were some drops of the colour red over it, as red as blood, which got Anne's feet's blood to her head, which made her nervous, and made her sink into ample disarray.
Although it wasn't storming anymore, she clearly heard it thunder. Yes, it thundered.
For the elderly it was such a depressing event to occur, because they could not go outside to do their daily jobs. But for the young ones, Josh, Henry, Anne and Peter, it was an occasion of celebration, since they hadn't had to go to school and could play all day long at home. Although Peter, the oldest of the youngests, didn't look much joyous that day.
“Should we bake a cake?” Was little Anne's suggestion.
“Let's.” The boys agreed, lastly did the motionless creature, Peter, for he had to answer his sister's glowing gaze.
“We have everything, though, leaving Milk. And we need milk,” he said. “And for your awareness, we don't have even a drop. Father could not go to the dairy, as you know.”
“Yeah, but we can ask some from aunt Helen, can't we?” Josh insisted hopefully.
But they couldn't. Even if they would have survived the storm, if they dared to venture outside, and successfully came back home, unpleasantness would have been waiting for them. They would jump from a tree, enter a lion's cage, gleefully walk down to hell-fire but wouldn't face Mr Henrique's inquiries—God saves, death promises to be much more pleasurable than that—For certainty.
“Uncle wouldn't know.”
“Josh.” Peter sighed, giggling, not negatively, neither in the affirmative.
“What should we do then,” Henry said. “Better let's leave the idea. Let's do something else. Let's—”
Let's what – It thundered hardly before he finished. And it thundered one more time. And for another time.
And again, it thundered.
Almost an hour passed in the Attic of Henriques' house, leaving four living-breathing spirits nothing to do, but to look outside from the window, as it rained and thundered. It rained cats and dogs and thundered hard.
“I will go.”
Three pairs of eyes could be seen looking out from the window eagerly, observing a shadow. 5.4 inches tall, a brave lad, was walking on. Did not he care about the lunatic wind, neither he feared enough the sky's barking, perhaps warnings, to stop his march. As a minute or five had passed, the shadow couldn't be glimpsed anymore – The indication that he has reached the other side of the road successfully.
It thundered.
But mysteriously enough, the shadow wasn't seen to put his footsteps in the domain reachable for the sight of human for the second time. It was expected from Peter to come back within half an hour, but three had passed, as did another one. The little ones became anxious, so were the aged folks.
“You pieces of – YOU DAMN PIECES OF – Why the hell did you let your brother – GO OUTSIDE – In this HORRIBLE WEATHER – WITHOUT TELLING ME?” The red-headed man had to pause between his yells, so furious he went, his words struggled to come out. He looked at his daughter, angrily, as fierce as he would eat her, and then at his nephews. For the three, the option was but to cry.
“What do I do now?” Annes's cousin's aunt's husband shrieked. “WHAT DO I DO NOW? WHERE DO I FIND MY SON – MY ONE AND ONLY SON.”
The women and the children sobbed, cried and moaned. Little prayers were being said once in a while, by the grown-ups, as the young ones Amened. Along them cried the sky, and thundered. In the midst of all the cries and prayers and whines, some men matured in age were in search of a young soul, a fresh one, as well as brave.
Anne's and Josh's sobbing stopped, as did the cries of women. Someone knocked on the door. It was morning by that time, the clouds in the sky had been cleared away. As the door was opened, men entered the house. Behind them, they could see something tall was wrapped in a white sheet. There were some drops of the colour red over it, as red as blood, which got Anne's feet's blood to her head, which made her nervous, and made her sink into ample disarray.
Although it wasn't storming anymore, she clearly heard it thunder. Yes, it thundered.
