Untitled New Fictional Series, Part One

An overweight young man and his sister return home from a day of fishing one Iowa Spring to find their mother gone...

Conrad's sister was disgruntled, as she peered up at him from the sodden riverbank, letting her little fishing rod droop toward the edge of the water. Ellie and the thunder grumbled simultaneously, though the thunder nearly muffled the little girl's displeasure. Along the wide horizon, a row of dark and brooding clouds began to block out the spring sun. He perhaps should have known it was a bad day for fishing, but momma always complained about how the weatherman was never right; and so Conrad had taken it for granted that the Iowa sky would be bright and sunny all day, since thunderstorms had actually been predicted. Besides, fishing kept Ellie busier than anything he could think up to do at home, while momma was busy working on her homework during the weekend. Keeping Ellie occupied was hard, when he had been dealing with her almost two days straight.

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            "We've only been fishing a little," Ellie whined,"why's it got to rain now?" Pouting as she was, she looked even younger than six, with thin stripes of dried mud on her arms and cheeks, and her ponytail in disarray. Her little pink t-shirt that said 'Princess' seemed very out of place to Conrad.  

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            Shaking his head, certain that his baby sister was more a boy than he, Conrad took her hand, pulling her to her feet. He wished his friend Gary had come along like he had last weekend. Ellie adored Gary, and actually listened to what he said, because Gary was in high school, and if you listened to little Ellie talk, all she ever wanted to be one day was "in high school". It had to be this weekend when Gary was on a band trip. It just had to be.

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            "Did you poop your pants?" Conrad laughed, as he looked at the brown stain on Ellie's rear. Teasing her made watching her all the time worth it. "I just knew I should've brought along some Pampers for my baby sis."

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            Predictably, Ellie stuck out her tongue, and pushed him across the chest with her free hand. "Least I'm not a sissy who is afraid to sit down on the bank cuz it's a little bit muddy!" Ellie retorted, just as the first raindrop splashed her in the right eye. She winced, and must have finally decided that it was time to go home.

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            Conrad tried to keep up with her as she ran toward home, but he was about 30 lbs over the recommended weight for his age, according to Dr. Bowman at his last checkup, and this was why he tired easily when he ran. By the time they neared the house, only three blocks from the river, he was panting and out of breath. Ellie had beaten him by a long shot. Sopping wet and angry as a swatted hornet, she stood on the front porch, banging on the ripped up screen door, groaning with frustration. The downpour had washed her face and arms clean, at least.

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            Soaked and desperate, they both screamed toward the house in unison "Momma, Momma!!"  A true downpour it was, the rain falling in sheets now, individual drops hardly visible. Conrad peered in the dining room window, where the curtains were parted. There were no lights on inside, though the day had grown dark. Momma's computer sat there staring back through the window, dark and blank. She should have been on it, typing her Thesis.

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            "She's not here, Ellie, and we gotta get out of the rain, let's go sneak into Mr. Thompson's shed," Conrad told his sister, trying to sound less worried about their mother than he was. 

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            Mr. Thompson was the nearest neighbor, and his old shed sat behind Conrad and Ellie's own house, just across the alley. There were a few loose boards, and if one knew how to wiggle it, a couple of kids, even including an obese thirteen-year-old boy, could finesse their way inside. Mr. Thompson was over 90, and rarely went outside. The nurse who cared for him rarely did either, when she was around. This left his shed untouched, except for by Conrad, Gary, and a few other boys, who used it for a hideout of sorts. It wasn't the best of structures, but in this weather, unable to get inside their house, it would have to do. The shed was almost empty, having been gleaned of its best contents by Mr. Thompson's daughter in law some time back, when she had a yard sale to help pay for his care.

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        Inside the shed, in the mustiness and the damp, in the dark and the silence, the children waited. They waited to hear their mother calling them, or for the storm to end… they waited, and waited, and waited…

    The first thing they heard, besides the rain, was the piercing wail of sirens.


To be continued...


Copyright Constance Sxxxxxx 2008 All Rights Reserved

Author's Note

I haven't quite thought of the title for this yet. I've got more finished, and will post here eventually, along with adding the title.

Reviews

[nicki_504]

It has certainly grabed my attention I can't wait to read the rest, as always well written.