Thunder

• Kara May Davis, Grade 9, Bowral High
• Short Story
• 2014

Excellence Award in the 'Write As Rain 2014' competition

There was thunder on the pavement. It rumbled passed the startled townsfolk, and down the derelict streets. Alleys and canals, the thunder rippled through the town, with little peals of laughter echoing off the walls.
She was a tiny little thing, yet her feet were so swift on the pavement there appeared to be no stopping her. Black hair flipping back into the wind, lamb’s boots thudding on the ground; she couldn’t help the sense of euphoria that bubbled inside her. It wasn’t the first time the girl had been chased as such, and certainly it wouldn’t be the last.
The thunder continued until they came to the end of the dingy little town, where boats and run-down ships were bobbing in the water, tugging idly at their bindings. The girl sprinted forward while the thunder hesitated, pulling warily to a halt as the wharf groaned under its feet. The thunder bristled at the edge of it, watching restlessly as the girl leaped from boat to boat. She had to come to shore sometime, it reasoned, and settled itself in to wait.
Henry was already there, waiting. He untied the little canoe and braced himself for the heavy landing the girl was sure to make. The thunder watched in amazement as the little girl leaped from boat to boat, feet slapping across the decks, and then dropped suddenly into nothingness. There was a silence, and then a splash, and slowly the thunder got to its feet, parting into separate beings, and rumbled away into the distance.
The girl giggled quietly, using her thick woollen jacket to stifle the sounds. Henry, too, couldn’t help but smile ruefully at the impulsive child. He scanned her hands for the food she had been told to steal, but came up empty. Perhaps the goods were hidden away within her jacket?
“Lucy, where did you put the food?”
The girl looked up, caught halfway between giggles. Her grey eyes opened as wide as saucers, so wide they seemed lidless, and she glanced back to the wharf. And then she bit her lip, winced theatrically and hopped back out of the canoe. Dancing quickly past the boats and ships, she landed on the wharf and went back the way she had come.
And the thunder began again.