Where...in the Rain?
A mother scolds her little son harshly…...............something a boy his age would do. She regrets her action soon afterwards.
‘Sammy’, Ada yelled out frantically, raising her voice above the noise of the splattering rain outside. She ran out of the kitchen, rubbing her hands on the bosom of her apron. He wasn’t in his room. She’d scolded her 7 year old son earlier, for packing dirt unto the front porch, telling him to stay unnoticed for a while. ‘What if he’d gone to hide somewhere, what if he was hurt?’ As the thoughts crossed her mind, she sped into his playroom. Sammy’s toys lay scattered about, with the dirt from the sole of his shoes, he wasn’t there either.
‘Oh no!’ she gasped in a frozen panic. Looking out the water-drop covered window, she saw the lid of the old well a distance away, pulled open. ‘Oh no, Sammy no,’ she muttered, dashing out the back door. The heavy patter of the rain was like an ocean passing through a sieve.
She ran across the slippery footpath of her backyard garden. The blades of grass sparkled with dullness, as the rains poured down even harder. She slipped once, her feet sliding into a split position, violating the rocky hiding place of a frog as it hopped out to safety.
‘Ri-bb-id,’ it croaked staring up angrily at her.
‘Shut up,’ she screamed pulling herself up, ‘where’s my son?’
Looking around the yard toward the plains, hoping to see him soaking out the cold painful drops, she began to shiver, imagining him cry out, stuck somewhere, needing her warm and assuring embrace. A gust of wind blew, her wet hair flew across her face; the branches on the surrounding trees swayed, then bowed in mastered synchrony. ‘Where is my son?’ she yelled at them hysterically, not expecting an answer. She just wanted to hold him in her arm, and kiss away his fright, this was all her fault.
The old well, was just a few quick steps away. She shivered again as she neared it. Hot salty tears ran down her cheeks as they turned pinkish-blue in the cold. The tears made no difference, she was in the rain. A dirty brown puddle formed around the well. Probably due to the sand her husband had used for repairs yesterday. He’d stacked it just beside the well. What if her little son had climbed atop, and slipped in. She shook her head at her wild imaginations. Wading through the puddle, she gazed in. It was empty. At least it looked empty and forlorn, except for the activity from the rain drops. She had to lean in closer, she thought, even if it meant jumping in, to make sure her son was not in there. There was no time to call for help.
An odd shaped rock lay at the side. Funny she had never seen it before. She stumbled close, placed her foot on its soft rump. All of a sudden………….’Ouch mum that hurt’
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