"Get a grip, wimp." '
Screaming like a little girl? Really?' Sonja's self-chastisement did nothing to alleviate her embarrassment or her anxiety. She hated these storms; they triggered a deeper gremlin.
Breathe.
It was day, but the storm's gloom had left her room dusky and shadowed. She wafted her phone flashlight around her room like a lighthouse beam. The electronic light was ridiculously reassuring.
Seconds later, Sonja heard creaking and uncertain footfalls on the stairs. Then, from the doorway came,
"Sonja? You there, baby? I thought I heard a scream." Her mom, Jenny, appeared, also phone-lit. Dean, Sonja's stepdad, was two steps behind.
"Everyone okay then?" Her stepdad’s tone suggested concern, but Dean didn't wait for an answer. "Let's go find candles, batteries, and proper flashlights. I'll search the garage and the basement. You two search the rest of the house." Dean added, quickly taking charge of the situation.
'He should know, it's his house,' Sonja thought to herself, but complied wordlessly and began rummaging through kitchen drawers while Jenny foraged in the laundry room down the hall.
They found they were shamefully ill-equipped for an outage. Sonja located nubs of old birthday candles, a lighter, and a handful of stray batteries with unknown longevity rolling around in a drawer.
"Wrong size," Jenny told her, plucking the lighter from her hand.
"You find anything? You were in there a while." Sonja crossed her arms in the darkness.
"One D battery." Jenny chuckled. "But I found these lovely, tapered candles in the dining room, so we're saved for the moment." She flicked the lighter and then dipped the wick of one of the tapers into the white, flickering flame. She handed the candle to Sonja and lit her own from the first.
"We can get supplies tomorrow if we still need them. It'll be fine." Her mom reassured her.
"Conserve your phone power," Dean told them as he arrived on the scene, shaking a dead flashlight.
Nodding, Sonja knew neither her phone nor the sad assortment of candles they managed to dredge up were going to last long. She retreated to her room with her single candle and sulked in the stormy gloom. No TV, no internet, no music, no gaming. Not even any warm food or heat. Only her and her parents. Misery. It didn't take long for Sonja to exhaust her pitiful library of dog-eared comics and tween graphic novels. All her other books were electronic or in her school locker. So, there she sat, slumped on the fraying cushion of her window seat, with gangly adolescent legs outstretched, book distractedly in lap, looking, but not looking.
The slow, uneven ratcheting sound of the garage door opening drew her attention. Next, she heard a deep rev of a car engine followed by a rapid ratcheting, finally ending with a sharp thud. "Who is that?" Sonja wondered out loud as she rubbed her eyes to focus. Sheet lightning flicked across the sky, and she caught a glimpse of Dean's taillights rounding off the end of the drive and speeding onto the main street.
"In this? Where the hell is he going?" She found herself mumbling. She quickly checked her phone, "Great, it's only been an hour. I'm going insane... Stop talking to yourself, Sonja. Stop referring to yourself in the third person, Sonja." She rolled her eyes.
Sonja popped off the window seat and headed to her bedroom door. Reaching for the knob, she saw it turn noiselessly in front of her eyes, and the door began to creak open. Sonja stopped breathing, immobilized, eyes wide. "Sonja, baby, just checking on you," cooed her mom.
"Good God, Mother! Don't ever do that!" She yelped. "Sorry, were you scared? I thought you might be afraid by yourself in the dark." Jenny said, chuckling.
"Not funny. I'm not ten. Where did Dean go? I thought I saw him leave. Did he notice it's kinda nasty out there?" Sonja said, trying to regain her composure.
"Um, he needed to go back to the dealership for some paperwork and thought there might be supplies for us there too," Jenny said nonchalantly.
"Right." Sonja rolled her eyes in the darkness, but her mom still seemed to see it.
"No, really," Jenny said defiantly. "I told you about this already, Sonja. This is getting really serious, and he needs to check some documents, okay? You know how he is about his dealership."
"Obsessed? Neurotic? Zealous?" quipped Sonja.
"He's obviously upset. You think a little rain is going to bother him?"
"A little rain? Mother. The power is out. Trees are falling. And yeah, I noticed he's upset. Nothing's worth going out in this. It's only a dealership. He's already loaded. Is he stupid?"
"Not to him. And cool it. You have it pretty good here. Great house, a nice room, and you have friends. There's that girl... the one with the hair." Jenny said, snapping her fingers.
"Wow. You've got quite a keen eye there, Mom. Yes, I have a friend with hair. Now, if only I could go somewhere with my friend..." Sonja smiled and heard her mother vent a deep, exasperated sigh.
It was a sore point. Sonja was relentlessly nagging Jenny about using the car. It's not that she didn't like Hadleigh. It was a move up from their blink-and-miss-it last town. But most realized it catered to the ove-50 and under-ten crowd. The university students occupied themselves with work most of the summer and could reach their choice of big cities within an hour or two. When you're in the limbo of high school, escapism was more limited to gaming and the day-to-day with friends. Having access to a car was like no other feeling in the world. Freedom.
But Dean never let Sonja or his boys touch any of the six precious motor babies nesting in his garage, and Dean Jr. had yet to wrangle even a used vehicle from his father. Jenny's cherry-red Miata MX-5 convertible was also off limits. It was a wedding gift from Dean. Sonja loved the way it hugged sharp curves. She couldn't wait for the next couples-night event for her next adventure with Phoebe.
"Listen, we obviously won't be fussing for dinner, the whole town is out. So, no take-out either. I'll throw something together when Dean gets back. Okay?" Jenny did a one-eighty and closed the door behind her, not giving Sonja a chance to object or confirm. Sonja shrugged her shoulders and sighed. Before making it back to her bed, she'd whipped out her phone from her back pocket, texting app at the ready.
Sonja: somethings wrong they're fighting
Phoebe: bad?
Sonja: yeah
Phoebe: why what's happening
Sonja: IDK she's lying
Phoebe: just try and stay out of it. U OK?
Sonja: not great. U?
Phoebe:I'm ok chillin with Len. No parents yippee
"Oh yeah." Sonja smiled. How had she forgotten her best friend had been on her own since last night? Phoebe's parents had gone somewhere exotic for the break and left her to take care of the house and their ancient dog, Lenny, the useless black Lab, as she called him. Phoebe, her fellow homebody, had naturally offered to stay behind. She and Lenny had essentially grown up together, and now, she said, he needed her. It's not like it was a lot of work. He enjoyed a short and leisurely stroll, his rounded belly swaying with each step. Or he'd just curl up luxuriously for hours on his pillow, merely opening an eye at strange noises.
Sonja: I shoulda come over
Phoebe: ya idiot :)
Sonja: TTYL loser
Sonja clambered back into bed with a broody sigh and fixed her gaze on the low dancing flame of the taper candle on her side table. Her eyes followed the slow slide of melting wax droplets, aiming for the candle base. The gloomy greyness of her room grew darker against the flickering flame and the trickling drops. The sound of rain. The scent of lilac.
Sonja snapped awake just as Dean's headlights were inching back up the drive. She heard the uneven creaking and moaning of the garage door as Dean yanked the hand pull to draw it closed. Slow footsteps and the distinctive clicking of Dean's office doors followed. She thought she heard rustling or drawers opening, or maybe it was her mom moving around in the kitchen. Every noise sounded so intense and unidentifiable in the darkness. But Sonja wasn't going to check. Better to stay out of it, like Phoebe said. She didn't want to end up in the middle of things. At least for now, there was no more barking from Dean, no more muffled, frenzied arguing. Just the odd clinking or shuffling to interrupt an otherwise overwhelming silence and a taut peace.
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