The Storm Brewing (G)
Jared stands in his new room and watches the rain pelt down against the window. The thunder cracking overhead makes him jump and he wants to run to Daddy. But Daddy’s gone, and Mamma gets a sad look in her eyes when he talks about him. So he just clutches Teddy and watches the rain.
Above the noise of the storm, Jared can hear Mamma and Greg moving around downstairs. They’re busying shuffling boxes around on the first floor. They are trying to find things. He hears Greg curse loudly when something crashes. He hears Mamma’s soothing voice washing over them both, calming and gentle.
The rain had caught them by surprise and they’d had to just shove everything in the door. Now the living room, the kitchen, even the dining room, are all full of scattered boxes and dismantled furniture. His bed is down there somewhere. His big boy bed that Daddy built for him right before he went away. It’s in little pieces all over the house. He saw the headboard leaning against the living room wall. The mattress was in the kitchen.
He wants to go downstairs and bring it up. He wants to go to sleep. He is so tired, so lonely. Mamma and Greg always have too many things to do, and he’s had no one to play with, not since Jeff left with Daddy, not since Mamma started being sad all the time.
“Hey there, tiger,” Mamma says. She stands in the open doorway with a box. It says ‘toys’ written across it in his untidy black scrawl. His writing looks nothing like Jeff’s used to, but Mamma had made him do what he could. “You want dinner? Greg’s ordering pizza.”
Jared stares at her. She seems to shimmer, to waver, but then he blinks and the water in his eyes collects into fat tears that run down his face. He nods. Mamma leaves the box in the corner. It mocks him with his messy writing and the dented, damp corner. It smells like wet cardboard. It smells like the storm brewing outside.
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Above the noise of the storm, Jared can hear Mamma and Greg moving around downstairs. They’re busying shuffling boxes around on the first floor. They are trying to find things. He hears Greg curse loudly when something crashes. He hears Mamma’s soothing voice washing over them both, calming and gentle.
The rain had caught them by surprise and they’d had to just shove everything in the door. Now the living room, the kitchen, even the dining room, are all full of scattered boxes and dismantled furniture. His bed is down there somewhere. His big boy bed that Daddy built for him right before he went away. It’s in little pieces all over the house. He saw the headboard leaning against the living room wall. The mattress was in the kitchen.
He wants to go downstairs and bring it up. He wants to go to sleep. He is so tired, so lonely. Mamma and Greg always have too many things to do, and he’s had no one to play with, not since Jeff left with Daddy, not since Mamma started being sad all the time.
“Hey there, tiger,” Mamma says. She stands in the open doorway with a box. It says ‘toys’ written across it in his untidy black scrawl. His writing looks nothing like Jeff’s used to, but Mamma had made him do what he could. “You want dinner? Greg’s ordering pizza.”
Jared stares at her. She seems to shimmer, to waver, but then he blinks and the water in his eyes collects into fat tears that run down his face. He nods. Mamma leaves the box in the corner. It mocks him with his messy writing and the dented, damp corner. It smells like wet cardboard. It smells like the storm brewing outside.
Back to Master Post