waited until the girls were in the kitchen before saying, “Oh good, we’re all here. Your aunt and I were thinking we should do an early dinner tonight, what with the storm coming in. We’ll probably lose power like we always do, so best to be done with everything before it happens.”
We worked together to get dinner made and in the oven. There was no camaraderie or joking like there had been the night before. The aunts left in a hurry to “check on things” and Martha was tense and silent. Minnie tried to pull her out of her shell and finally fell silent herself. I could tell her feelings were hurt but I was preoccupied. Something was very wrong.
The aunts came back into the kitchen to help set the table and each plate they set down rattled for a second as they laid it down. From across the room I could see how badly their hands were shaking.
Minnie and I watched, growing more and more puzzled. “You guys expecting a major storm or something?” Minnie finally asked.
“You never know—” Viola said, right atop Hazel.
“—better safe than sorry.”
I turned to Martha for a real explanation but her huge shining eyes and milk white face stopped me from asking. She looked terrified.
Dinner was tense. Martha stared at her plate and didn’t eat a bite. The aunts wolfed their food down, tossed their dishes in the sink and began emptying the cupboards of candles and boxes of matches. Minnie and I ate in silence and exchanged worried glances. I had been through winter storms in Michigan before. Maybe because they were out in the middle of nowhere they lost electricity more and it took longer to get restored. But that sounded hollow in my own mind and didn’t explain why Martha looked so panicked.
As I washed dishes, I watched everyone’s reflection in the darkening window. Martha’s shoulders were hunched and her corn silk hair was curtaining her face. Occasionally one of the aunts would whisper something in her ear as they passed her by in rush to collect candles or stacks of old newspapers.
An electric web of lightning cracked through the whole sky, lighting up the entire yard. Martha let out an unearthly wail and Minnie began crying. I blinked furiously, trying to get my sight back.
“Bixby, Minnie, you two girls go up to bed. If the storm comes it comes, we’ll be just fine in here,” one of the aunts snapped. Her comforting words were at odd with her tone and furrowed eyebrows.
I took a long look at Martha and her pinched face and shaking hands. “Martha—”
“Martha will be fine, she just doesn’t like storms. Now get upstairs,” Viola snapped.
I stared her down, opening my mouth to demand an explanation, to know what had Martha so frightened. From behind her Hazel shook her head gently and mouthed “later.” As she put her arm around Martha’s shoulder I thought I heard her whisper, “You can’t know it will be you this time, honey; it’ll be okay.”
Minnie grabbed my hand and dragged me upstairs. She burst into the bedroom winded and wild eyed. “Do you really think the storm will be that bad?” she asked.
“I don’t think so, it’s just a bad snowstorm,” I said, pulling my clothes off and leaving them in a heap on the floor. My old lady nightgown was a little thin so I put the cardigan back on over it.
“Then why was it lightning?” She stood in the middle of the room, still clothed, biting her lip.
“Are you afraid of storms?”
She nodded.
“Not snowstorms?”
She shook her head.
“Just lightning?”
She nodded. “Since I was a little kid.”
“Didn’t your parents tell you it was just God putting on a light show?” I teased.
She gave me a flat look. “No. My dad just told me to piss off and I would spend the rest of the storm hiding under my bed.”
I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m sorry, Minnie, I wasn’t thinking. Why don’t you push your bed up against mine tonight?”
She smiled and changed quickly. It took both of us to shove
We worked together to get dinner made and in the oven. There was no camaraderie or joking like there had been the night before. The aunts left in a hurry to “check on things” and Martha was tense and silent. Minnie tried to pull her out of her shell and finally fell silent herself. I could tell her feelings were hurt but I was preoccupied. Something was very wrong.
The aunts came back into the kitchen to help set the table and each plate they set down rattled for a second as they laid it down. From across the room I could see how badly their hands were shaking.
Minnie and I watched, growing more and more puzzled. “You guys expecting a major storm or something?” Minnie finally asked.
“You never know—” Viola said, right atop Hazel.
“—better safe than sorry.”
I turned to Martha for a real explanation but her huge shining eyes and milk white face stopped me from asking. She looked terrified.
Dinner was tense. Martha stared at her plate and didn’t eat a bite. The aunts wolfed their food down, tossed their dishes in the sink and began emptying the cupboards of candles and boxes of matches. Minnie and I ate in silence and exchanged worried glances. I had been through winter storms in Michigan before. Maybe because they were out in the middle of nowhere they lost electricity more and it took longer to get restored. But that sounded hollow in my own mind and didn’t explain why Martha looked so panicked.
As I washed dishes, I watched everyone’s reflection in the darkening window. Martha’s shoulders were hunched and her corn silk hair was curtaining her face. Occasionally one of the aunts would whisper something in her ear as they passed her by in rush to collect candles or stacks of old newspapers.
An electric web of lightning cracked through the whole sky, lighting up the entire yard. Martha let out an unearthly wail and Minnie began crying. I blinked furiously, trying to get my sight back.
“Bixby, Minnie, you two girls go up to bed. If the storm comes it comes, we’ll be just fine in here,” one of the aunts snapped. Her comforting words were at odd with her tone and furrowed eyebrows.
I took a long look at Martha and her pinched face and shaking hands. “Martha—”
“Martha will be fine, she just doesn’t like storms. Now get upstairs,” Viola snapped.
I stared her down, opening my mouth to demand an explanation, to know what had Martha so frightened. From behind her Hazel shook her head gently and mouthed “later.” As she put her arm around Martha’s shoulder I thought I heard her whisper, “You can’t know it will be you this time, honey; it’ll be okay.”
Minnie grabbed my hand and dragged me upstairs. She burst into the bedroom winded and wild eyed. “Do you really think the storm will be that bad?” she asked.
“I don’t think so, it’s just a bad snowstorm,” I said, pulling my clothes off and leaving them in a heap on the floor. My old lady nightgown was a little thin so I put the cardigan back on over it.
“Then why was it lightning?” She stood in the middle of the room, still clothed, biting her lip.
“Are you afraid of storms?”
She nodded.
“Not snowstorms?”
She shook her head.
“Just lightning?”
She nodded. “Since I was a little kid.”
“Didn’t your parents tell you it was just God putting on a light show?” I teased.
She gave me a flat look. “No. My dad just told me to piss off and I would spend the rest of the storm hiding under my bed.”
I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m sorry, Minnie, I wasn’t thinking. Why don’t you push your bed up against mine tonight?”
She smiled and changed quickly. It took both of us to shove
Similar Books
