Dating : LIGHTNING By Ezra Crittenden

DAMIEN

“Mum, please don’t make me sleep alone! I don’t wanna be alone with the storm when I sleep!” The storm of the century couldn’t muffle the sound of my baby brother whining to Mum again for his annual routine of seeking asylum in her bed whenever the winter season came around. Nothing could tame his anxiety, not the ancient walls that housed our ancestors, nor the warming fireplace we were lucky enough to have been gifted in our own room Mum had installed just to give us a nightlight, nore did her soft voice of reassurance.
“Oh, Benjie,” She would always remark, “you’re not alone now, are you? Not when you’ve got your older Brother right across the room to protect you.”
“But he’s not my older Brother! He’s only two and a half years older than me and he’s not any smarter, I’ll prove it!.”
“Well I got news for you, Benjie, being even two seconds older than you makes him your superior. That with which he bears some responsibility he’s had since holding you in his arms the day you were born.”
“But what if he’s asleep when the storm gets closer?”
“Well then I’ll be there to protect you.”
“But what if you’re asleep and Dad’s at work?”
To the mention of our Father, I insisted on interjecting; “Dad wouldn’t lift a finger for you if you weren’t his favourite!”
To which our Mum came back at me with;“There are no favourites in this house, Damien!” she then turned her fiery gaze she held on me back to Benjamin with what I could only assume was a look much softer and welcoming than the look I was to ever receive from her. “Besides, Benjie, as I’ve told you a million times before and I’ll tell you now; you can hear it for yourself just by counting the seconds the thunder takes to get here after the lightning.”
Her cue was right on time, as the word ‘lightning’ was spoken a great CRACK nearly shook the house, causing Benjamin to hide his face half under his quilt instinctively and if Mum wasn’t there, he would’ve gone all the way under for the rest of the night.
“But what if it gets closer while you’re all asleep? What will I do then?”
“It never does, sweety. Plus this house has survived storms far worse than you could ever imagine. I was even here to see them and I can tell you that all being afraid ever did was cause me to miss out on a night of well earned sleep.”
And it was as Mum was kissing Benjamin to sleep on his forehead that we were greeted by our Father, his wretched and monstrous groan carried from down the hall,echoing out from the living room. “MARRRRTHA!” STOMP, STOMP, BANG! “MARRRRRRTHA! WHERE’S MY BOY!!” to which Mum turned her head to our bedroom door in a nature that could only make sense if an intruder were to suddenly burst through our front door and fire a gun at the Chandelier. She quickly rose from Benjamin’s bed and tiptoed across to the door to close it – but she was too late as our Father’s foot came crashing in between the door and the frame as the stench of alcohol filled our noses instantly. “I WANNA SAY GOODNIGHT TO MY BOY!”
“Haven’t you had your chance? You want them to see you like this? Now get your bum back into that-”
“HE’S MYYYY BOY AND I WANNA KISS HIM GOODNIGHT!” Mum’s back was sent flailing into the darkness of our bedroom as he came tumbling in and reached over Benjamin’s bed to give a wet kiss on his own palm and then delivered it to Benjamin’s head, at which he took a slow breath and gathered his composure. “I llllove you, son. No matter what you Mum says…” He remarked, looking over her bruised body gathering itself between our beds to rise back up on her feet and take our Father by the hand and escort him out along with her.
“Goodnight, Mu-” my goodnight was met with a SLAM of the door as the sounds of my father’s outdoor shoes stomping against the floor of the corridor were slowly drowned out by the storm. I looked to Benjamin for a moment, his face remaining still in minor disappointment, zoning out at the door. “Benjie?”
“Wut…”
“Would you like me to open the door a little?”
Benjie then looked to me as another CRASH came in through the window, sending him under the covers completely this time, his back shivering up and down under his quilt.
The fire had heated the floor quite well, so walking on my bare feet wasn’t a problem as I tiptoed to the door and, as silent as I could at the age of 10, gave the ancient door knob a gentle twist and tried to let the storm muffle its creaks and whines as I pulled it open just over an inch.
I felt rather sorry for Benjamin by doing this as I crawled back into bed for I could make out the sounds of our parents going at it from down the hall, and could even catch a glimpse of their shadows dancing over a strip of light that was cast over Benjamin’s bed like a spotlight on his shivering, sleepless body.
CRACK! “GET IT YA DAMN SELF, WHY DON’T YA!” CRASH! “I’M THIRRSTY MARRRTHA!” CRACK! “YOU’VE HAD ENOUPH, DAMMIT!” CRASH!

***

I myself was quite a fan of the stormy season, and when Benjamin would eventually pass out under his blankets I would often tip toe over to the window that was placed between our two beds that looked on each other to perch it open a few inches and let the moisture in, this was when I was able to get a good night’s sleep. But it was as I cracked it open that another CRASH came in through the window and must’ve woken Benjamin up as I was able to make out his soft voice beneath the wind howling in through the room…
“Is Dad gonna be okay?”
I turned my head, scared half to death as I looked at him, sitting perfectly upright and looking past me, through the window, as if for a brief moment Benjamin was too tired or caught up in a thought to be scared of what beckoned at him outside. “It’s Mum you gotta worry about.”
“Why?”
“Saw her cleanin’ up a broken plate yesterday, just after Dad left for work.”
“Oh…”
“But Mum’s tough, ya know. She won’t get pushed around for much longer.”
“What do you mean?”
“We talk a lot, seein’ as I’m the oldest and all-”
“Me and Mum talk a lot, too!”
“Nuh-uh!”
“Yea-huh!’
“Whatever,” I left the window open to Benjamin’s silent objection and sauntered back to my bed. The last thing I remember seeing that night when my eyes slid across the room was Benjamin, in the same position, gazing out the window.

BENJAMIN

“Pssst-” CRASH! “Psst-” CRASH! “Damien!” CRACK! “Damien!” The storm was worse than ever and I couldn’t wake Damien no matter how hard I tried and as hard as I would call to him, the thunder kept interrupting me. Until I heard a real CRASH down the hallway through the open door, and the voices of Mum and Dad yelling.
“WOULD YA BE QUIET YOU’RE GONNA WAKE THE BOYS!”
“OH, SHUT YOUR TRAP, YOU MISERABLE OLD WENCH!” BANG! BANG! SWOOSH-CRASH! I hid my face under the covers, but this time it wasn’t from the thunder outside, it was to protect me from what was happening right outside my door.
“DON’T! YOU’LL WAKE THEM!”
“GOOD!”
“NOT WHEN YOU’RE DRUNK!”
“I’M NOT DRUNK, YOU MISERABLE COW, NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!” STOMP, STOMP, STOMP, STOMP. I could hear him getting closer and closer to my door as his shadow began to cast onto my bed, looming larger and wider the louder the shouting became.
Until all of this stopped with a single BANG that I almost couldn’t hear under the thunder CLAP that happened outside just on time as my Father’s shadow descended to the floor and I heard nothing but the sounds of Mum’s panting and the sound of fabric and skin dragging across wood. My body didn’t know what to do so I just sat there, with the bottom half of my face beneath the blanket and my eyes stuck on the small space of light that shined onto my bed. It wasn’t an easy decision, but against all of my fears I knew I needed to ask if Mum was okay. “Mum?” But I heard nothing in return. “Mum?” Nothing again. Using my voice helped awaken my limbs as I slid out from under the covers onto the warm floor and inched my way over to the crack in the door. Thank goodness the thunder had stopped for a brief period as I approached the light and the sound of Mum’s breathing was getting closer and closer, I could feel her right outside my door and just for a moment, this feeling scared me. I inched my face in closer to fill the crack when suddenly, a big angry and tired face filled the crack so i couldn’t see what was happening in the corridor. All I could see was this big angry face with black circles around its eyes that, after a second of study, turned out to be the face of my Mum.
“GO BACK TO BED!” And the door SLAMMED shut in my face. I was too tired to decide on what to do next as my body started guiding me back to my bed, thinking at the very least I could rest up and see what all the fuss was about come morning.

DAMIEN

Dad wasn’t home at all the next day and Benjamin looked off as well. Like he didn’t sleep. I guess he’d remained in the state I last saw him in all night and felt regret for acting so selfish by leaving that window open for him all night, only for him to remain awake in fright the whole time I slept.
Neither me or Benjamin thought much of Dad not being there in the morning as we hardly ever saw him at all during this season. He used to run his office out of the house but the more and more patients he gathered in the City, it became more convenient and lucrative for him to set up shop at the Clinic in town. But even with that in mind, Mum’s appearance was rather unconventional to say the least, but not exactly concerning as both Benjamin and I were pleased to be greeted by a full course breakfast from our smiling Mum, side from the new bruise on her face and a few cuts on her fingers I’d hadn’t picked up on until I grew older. For the first time in a long time she seemed happy. I thought at the time that maybe it was a long awaited fight that’d finally cleared them of their grief that flooded the house in recent months, a string of tension finally cut in half by a few words nobody meant. Or maybe after all these years, Mum stood up for herself and told Dad to get lost. Either of these scenarios were deemed plausible and more than welcomed, if it meant I was looking at a winter full of home cooked meals.
But Benjamin couldn’t help himself from questioning the change of pace, even as Mum served him up a stack of steamy Pancakes, with a cube of butter melting away before his nose. “Why doesn’t Dad come to tuck us in, anymore?”
Mum didn’t even seem to flinch at the question, as if she’d already had an answer queued up for Benjamin. “Your Father’s been so busy with work. He always comes home after you’re already fast asleep, my dear. And he’s always wanting to wake you up, he doesn’t care if you lose your sleep. But I do.”
Mum left to remove the whistling kettle from the stove when Benjamin turned to me, and leaned in over the table with a whisper. “Maybe if I stay awake, I’ll be able to see Dad when he gets home.”
“Dad isn’t coming back, he left Mum.” I’d apparently already made up my mind about what happened.
“Oh, shut it! Stay up with me and you’ll see for yourself!.”

***

The storm returned that night, and I’d made the mistake of leaving the window open all day, so the moisture had collected from the rain so much that a small circle of rain drops had collected on the floor around the window frame.
I remained more interested in Benjamin’s proposition than he had, himself as I sat up all night after Mum had tucked us in, at the open window watching the flashing lights in the clouds accompanied by loud CLAPS that seemed to shake the entire structure at times. I liked how vulnerable the thunder made me feel, that the whole house could come down in an instant from just a sound and a flashing light, but I knew it wouldn’t after all. That’s what made it fun, for me. Benjamin was wide awake as I heard him call to me from his bed, having been woken by the storm, I’d assumed.
“What are you doing, Damien?”
“Come over and you’ll see for yourself!” I’d hoped Benjamin would wake up so I could show him what I was witnessing. To be more truthful, I wasn’t just watching the storm and listening to the rain that night. I was also listening in on a frequency not ever heard before through that window during any other storm in past winters. It was a frequency very similar to a human voice, much deeper, much more guttural of a sound than any thunder clap could ever make. I knew right when I heard it that this was the voice of our Father.
“I’m not looking.”
“But I can hear Papa!”
“Wut?”
“He’s out there, in the trees, Benjie!”
And Benjamin slowly slipped out from under the covers to plant his naked feet onto the wood and slowly tip toe over to me. I even took his hand to assist him along the way and ensure him that he was safe and that I meant business. I guess I needed my brother to hear it as well, as I didn’t even know what I would do about it if it did indeed turn out to be the voice of my Father.
Benjamin took a seat behind me and looked away from the window, with his ear exposed to the whistling wind and thunder claps as we just sat and listened as the storm raged on.
CLAP! CRASH!
CRACK! “BOYYYSSS…”
CRASH!“BOYYSSSS!!!”
‘Can you hear it, Benjie?”
CRASH!!
“Who is that?”
CLAP- “COMMMME.” It gave his voice a kind of deafening howl like that of a wolf perched atop a mountain miles away, heard only for the wind carrying his cries on its back and hammering at the window.
“It’s Dad! Like you said!”
CRACK!“COMMMMME!”
“He’s out there in the trees!”
“You’re lying!”
“Nu-uh!”
CRASH!

BENJAMIN

What Damien was claiming was scaring me out of my pajamas and I knew nothing at that moment but to run as fast as I could out into the corridor and down a few paces to Mum and Dad’s room that was just two doors down and to the right. But as I opened the door, I could already hear Mums voice; she was shouting under the storm. I could hardly hear it as all the windows in her room must’ve been kept wide open, I could even feel the wind running in and pressing against the door, trying to shut it against me. But as I pressed myself against the wood I could see Mum. She was standing, in her nightie, facing the window and yelling…
“GET OUT!”
CRASH!
“GET OUT!”
CLAP!
“YOU’RE GONNA WAKE THEM UP!”
CRASH!
“Mum?… “Why are you yelling at the storm?”
It was then that Mum turned to face me, her nightie was soaked from the rain hammering at her window screen. She smiled at me and said, “I’m just fine, Dear. Go back to bed or you’ll be too tired to wake up in the morning.”
I stayed quiet and listened to Mum, except I didn’t walk immediately back to my room after I’d closed the door, instead I stuck around to listen some more.
“YOU’RE GONNA WAKE THEM UP!”
CLAP!
“LEAVE THEM ALONE, YOU DRUNK!”

DAMIEN

Benjamin came running back to bed and didn’t say a single word to me, not even a glance, as he buried himself under the covers as the flashes of lightning lit up his bed. But I could hear his voice coming from under the covers, still.
“I think Mum kicked out Dad.”
“I told you! I can still hear him out there, he’s sleeping in the woods!”
I ended up passing out under the window frame that night.

***

None of us left our rooms for the next day. Meanwhile, the storm stayed and got worse and the sun never came out from under the impossible layers of black clouds. It was impossible to get any rest after that night and I was grateful I was able to fall asleep for the few hours that I did that night, for the nights to follow I would hardly sleep at all.
I stayed at the window all day as Benjamin remained under the blankets, exchanging a few words now and then and I never heard Mum’s door open even once. I couldn’t even hear furniture shifting, or the sound of her bed creaking against the floor, not that the increasing banging of thunder against the house was any help.
“I’m worried about Mum.” Benjamin said from under his quilt.
“Shhh! I’m listening!” I’d been listening all day, my eyes were red with exhaustion, I only assumed it was daytime as there was no real indication of whether half a day had passed or two.
“For what?”
“I’m trying to hear Dad!” But I hadn’t heard him all day, as hard as I listened. I began to think the storm was simply playing tricks on me but nevertheless, I knew nothing else than to remain perched on the window ledge and stare out into the dancing white electric snakes in the sky. I at no point grew hungry or felt an urge to brush my teeth or get dressed. We all together remained in our spots indefinitely as the storm seemed to transfix us all.
BENJAMIN

Damien’s body finally gave up and had passed out for a short nap it seemed, lying under the window ledge all wet and I knew he needed to be warmed up or he was sure to catch a terrible cold. As I rose to muster the courage to rise out of bed, gripping my top quilt, gifted to me by my Granny when I was born, I was stopped in my tracks by another CRACK of thunder that came rushing into our room like a bad intruder.
CRACK! “BENJIE!”
I remained still, shaking, gripping the quilt, looking over to Damien, asleep.
I could hear nothing but the wind passing through my hair before another white flash lit up my face pure white and then another…
CRACK! “BENJIE!”
The sound was so loud this time, as if it was accompanied by another voice, a familiar voice I’d heard the night before.
CRASH! “BENJIE!”
“Wa…wut do you want?”
And when I listened closer, as if my reaction made it more clear to me than ever before, I could hear my Dad’s voice clear as a bell beneath the wind as every word was brought on by another CLAP!
CRACK! “YOU SCARED” CRACK! ‘OF A LITTLE” CRACK! “LIGHTNING?”
“…yea…”
“CRASH! “COME” CRACK! “SEEEE MEEE!!”
“But I can’t go outside.”
CRACK! “COMMME LOOOK!” CRASH!
I stayed in my spot for another ten minutes until I’d finally decided that whatever I was hearing, I had to get this blanket to Damien or else he was sure to freeze. And if it really was my Dad calling to me, there was no way he could ever get to me, even if he was acting scary. The window could protect me from him ever getting in.
When I got to Damien, I laid the blanket on top of him as he tossed and turned under it, gripping its corners and bringing them in, tightly. He was grateful for it. And just as I stood back up, another FLASH came in through the window and painted the both of us WHITE. This was when I looked up at the storm for the first time, ever and saw it…
The white veins of the lightning were tangled up in the night sky that snuck in and out of the black clouds that seemed to go on forever. The wind was so strong on my face as the light lit it up, nearly blinding me just as staring into the sun would have.
And it was in these entangled white lines in the sky, that my eyes, for only a second were able to put together a picture. A picture of a face. The face of my Dad. His eyes were huge and jagged and made up almost the entire sky and just as I met eyes with the face, the thunder came back…
CRACK! “IIII SEEEE” CRASH! “YOOOOOOUU!” CRASH!
DAMIEN

I never saw Benjamin again, after that night. But I never stopped watching the sky.
Exactly one year had passed until we ever had another storm. I’d never closed the window the entire year and that night was no exception. Staring up at the storm with a cup of hot cocoa left for me by Mum on the ledge, it was the first time in a long time that a true sense of calm came over me, as I felt the rain reach my fingertips and forearms, dripping into my cup. The cool wind whistling in through the screen and weaving through my air, I was waiting for that first CLAP of thunder.
And when it came, there was no lighting that came before it, for they came at exactly the same time, as if the storm had conjured itself up just for me to put on a show and I wondered, just as I had the previous year, if I would ever hear my Dad’s voice again.
CRACK! “HELP!” CRASH!
There it was, I initially assumed, but caught myself in mid thought – how could that be?
CRASH! “HELP!” CRASH!
There it was, again. If I waited and paid attention I knew it would become more clear.
CRASH! “HELP!” CRACK!
‘Help’? Could Dad really still be out there, in the woods, as I’d thought? But how? I then looked up to the night sky, refusing to look away or blink for I might miss it, being held in sheer suspense in between the sounds as I waited for what felt like an eternity for the next clap to come along.
And that’s when I saw it.
The white electric snakes weaving in between the dark clouds that winded around our home like an alien craft looked down at me, forming a shape. A familiar shape that I would recognise if I was half blind. It was the face of my baby Brother.

THE END