Dust swirled across the surface of the reddish earth creating mini whirlpools as Regina tromped from the house to the clothesline. The growing wind whipped her red hair across her face, obscuring her view. Frustratedly, she plopped the clothes basket she was carrying onto the metal picnic table, shaking the hair from her face. She took the black hair tie on her wrist and quickly twisted her long locks into a messy bun atop her head before getting to work. Carefully, she took each garment of clothing from the steel line, folded them, and laid them in the basket.
On the horizon in front of her, a few miles away loomed the familiar dark cloud. The report said it was moving slowly, but Regina could already feel its presence. The wind had picked up, and a tangy, acrid smell filled the air. The cloud rumbled and roiled in the distance, and Regina picked up her pace. The sound of laughter behind her made her whirl around. Two little girls with bright red hair and freckles chased each other around the yard, their hair dancing around their heads like wildfire. A small smile broke the hard line of Regina’s face before she remembered the cloud.
“Girls, I told you both to stay inside,” she said, turning back to her work.
“We know, mama,” the younger one, Tilly, said. Her pale blue dress flailed behind her as she ran. “We just wanted to run around a little while.” Regina paused. Sighed. Thoughts of her own childhood invaded her mind. She and her sister used to get so excited when the rain would come. They would run around this very yard, the smell of a storm rolling in filling their sense, the sweet smell of damp earth and fresh rain. She could almost smell it, but a gust of sinister wind jolted her back to reality.
“It’s not safe out here,” she yelled too loudly. “Rose, get your sister back in the house.” Both girls froze, and their play ended. Rose nodded quickly and ushered her little sister toward the house. Regina watched as they closed the shiny, steel door behind them. The acrid smell was more pungent, burning her nostrils. The cloud was closer, moving more quickly than the woman on the news had said. A flock of blackbirds flew quickly ahead of the storm, but one lagged behind. Its flight pattern was jerky and unpredictable. The one in the rear plummeted from the sky as they flew overhead, landing on the ground near Regina’s feet. Slowly, she stepped toward the bird. Blood oozed from its beak. Its feathers were patchy, burned off by the storm. She snatched the rest of the clothes off the line, shoving them into the basket, and ran toward the house.
She closed the door behind her, leaning against it and closing her eyes. One of her hands gripped the basket, and the other lay on her heart, waiting for it to slow its frantic beating. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Rose stood in front of her, eyes wide.
“Mama, where’s Tilly?”
“What do you mean?” Regina asked, panic creeping up her spine. “I watched you bring her inside.”
“I had to use the bathroom. I told her to stay right on the couch, but she’s not there.” Regina yelled Tilly’s name, and no answer. She walked to the window and looked out on the dusty, red lawn. A flash of blue caught her eye. Tilly squatted near the dead bird, gently touching its head. The dark, swirling cloud rumbling toward her made her look so small. Panic gripped Regina’s throat.
“Noooooo!” she screamed, bolting toward the door. She ran as fast as her feet would carry her towards her daughter. The storm was so close now that she could taste the acid in the air, burning her tongue. “Tilly!” she screamed. Her daughter jerked her head toward her. Tilly looked toward the giant cloud chugging toward them like a train, her eyes growing wide. Regina scooped her up and turned back toward the house. The first drops of rain were starting to fall. A splash sent a searing pain through her arm. She wrapped her body as best she could around her small daughter and picked up her speed. Tilly let out a cry, a red splotch growing on her tiny leg. Regina pumped her legs faster, praying a silent prayer. The sound of pouring rain filled her ears as the storm caught up to them. The steel door stood wide open before them. Rose stood in the doorway, screaming for them to hurry. More splashes hit her shoulders, burning the fabric of her linen dress. When she thought she couldn’t take the pain anymore, she leaped onto the porch, and lunged through the door, Rose slamming it behind them. The deadly acid rain battered the roof of the steel house. Regina lay on the floor, her daughter wrapped in her arms. Her skin burned, but she was alive. She checked her weeping daughter over. Only a few splotches of red marred her body. Regina grabbed both her girls, pulling them into a fierce embrace. They all cried. They cried for themselves. They cried for each other. They cried for the Earth.