Severe Thunderstorm Alert

From: Mia Cope

I’ve only been living here a few months and Abilene seems to be a dry town.¹ I can only remember it raining once since I’ve been here — until last week.

We’d had a run on 100º+ days for almost two weeks. In fact, Abilene set a record high of 113º one day. It was hot. So hot that I only went out and laid in the sun four or five times that day. Every night at dinner, Momma would ask Daddy, “Is there any rain in sight?” And Daddy would answer, “Nothing in the forecast for the next several weeks.”

But there was that one night when Daddy changed his answer, “Well, earlier the weather app on my phone said that we could see some rain about 7 p.m. tonight. But looking now, it seems that chance is gone.”

Momma sighed. And I did, too. Mainly because Momma did. She’s my best friend and I do my best to empathize with her whenever I can.

All three of us went out in the back yard after supper. Daddy always tries to get me to zoom around the yard. Sometimes I do. But not that night. It was still 107º. I encouraged Momma and Daddy to go back inside and I made sure that I was in before they closed the door.

I kept wondering about that earlier prediction for rain. Who in their right mind would call it off?

I have sentry duty every night. I post myself in the hallway and look out the storm door to make certain that all is well in the neighborhood. Mostly I keep a sharp eye out for dogs and their owners walking by. I have a great gift for this work. There has been no mayhem created on my watch.

It was a slow night. Despite my best efforts to stay awake, I slipped into a bit of a snooze mode.

Me, on the edge of consciousness.

And then I heard it. That rolling, rumbling sound. Not unlike Daddy’s stomach sometimes, but out of place since I knew he had just eaten. Then the wind picked up and I could hear the wind chimes on the front porch banging and clanging their haphazard melody.

And then a sharp cracking noise. From Daddy’s study I could hear the emergency tone. “This is a severe weather alert. A powerful thunderstorm is in your area.” I came to attention.

Another flash of lightning and an immediate BOOM! of thunder . . . and it started to rain. At least I was pretty sure it was rain.

Daddy walked into the hall and looked out the door. “This can’t be right. The weather app said there is no chance for precipitation tonight. What do you think, Mia?”

“I think the best predictor is looking outside. And it appears to me that we have 100% chance of rain.”

Daddy smiled, “You should get a job at the weather station.”

I figured I might need a little more experience. After all, this was only the second time I had seen rain since I’d been here. And if I was working at the weather station, who would defend our neighborhood from mayhem? No, I think it’s best just to be surprised by the rain — and thankful.

1. For most of its existence, Abilene was a dry town. Not a drop of the demon rum was sold here except in a small enclave — an incorporated village named Impact. While the package store in Impact did a lot of business during those years, apparently there were other outlets for beer and spirits. Daddy says he knows that because when Abilene voted to allow alcoholic beverages to be sold, almost everyone was already pretty good at drinking. That however, is not what this story is about.