When I was a girl we had an old children’s book of short stories. I don’t remember ever reading the story called “The Flood”, but the picture captivated me. I remember it clearly. Black and white, it was a picture of a family in a flooded kitchen. One small child is sitting on a tall cupboard and the father is lifting another child up to safety. The mother is standing by, watching as the water laps at her dress. Here’s my story for the flood picture.
Watertown People
It’s been raining and raining, for days and days. Mattie and I are in bed. I can hear the tap; tap tapping of the rain on the roof. It makes a different, higher pitched sound on the window. I watch the drops race down the glass. Outside, I can hear the rain making a pounding sound on the metal tops of the garbage cans. More tap, tap, tapping. Mom and dad are talking quietly in the kitchen. They’re worried. I can tell by their hushed whispers. Something about the dam and whether it will hold. But, it’s a dam, it’s huge, I’ve seen it. Rain can’t break a dam.
In the morning the heavy rain has slowed to a drizzle. Mattie and I put on our rain coats and boots and walk to the end of the drive, the farm field’s stretch out around us - just mud now. Here and there, we can still see the tips of new green corn like soldiers in the rain, trying desperately to keep their chins up; out of the raising water. In the garden the plants are over loaded with water; drooping and sad. We play in the mud, making little rivers and channels. We’re making a water town, laying bricks in the mud for houses and sticks for water town people. I notice a little rush in the water at my feet, than I hear it, a low rumble in the distance. I grab Mattie’s hand and run toward the porch. I can see mom and dad on the porch, then bounding toward us; panic in their eyes. Daddy scoops me up in his arms, and mama gets Mattie. The roaring sound is chasing us. We reach the porch and turn around. A wave two feet tall strikes the porch. We race inside. Water is already a couple of inches deep on the floor. Daddy lifts Mattie onto the high cupboard in the kitchen and helps me climb up. The water is almost to mom’s knees now, getting her dress wet. I think about our water town and the water town people; all washed away.
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