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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1835533-Monsoon
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by Sunny Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Experience · #1835533
A girl and her brother get stuck on a bridge during a monsoon
         It was during the monsoon season, the first one that we had experienced since moving to Arizona. The rain was coming down hard. The foundations of the house were creaking and groaning. I was heating up a burrito in the microwave when the phone rang. It was Mom.

         “Tell Paul I need you guys to pick up Anna from daycare. I’m getting home late today,” she said. I looked at my burrito longingly and stuck it in the fridge. I would have to reheat it when we got back. I found Paul in front of the television playing videogames. I stood in front of the TV to block Paul’s view of the game.

         “We need to go pick up Anna,” I told him.

         “Hold on, I’m close to a save point,” he said.

         “And then you’ll be close to the next save point, and the next. I know how it is,” I said. Paul tried leaning around me to get a better view of his game.  I moved to block him again.

         “Olivia!”

         “Come on. We have to get her soon or the daycare will charge extra for watching her past the pick-up time,” I said.

Paul sighed and turned off his game. I got my shoes on and Paul grabbed the keys to the Jeep. For once I didn’t mind that he was able to drive, while I still had two more years before I could get a license. Even the highest setting on the windshield wipers didn’t clear the view of the road for more than a few seconds. It didn’t help that Paul was speeding. I had my seatbelt cinched tight and my hands grasping the armrests. He was so reckless. It scared me sometimes, how he could be. Like he was asking for trouble.

         I felt more and more nauseous as Paul turned corners like a madman. The Jeep slowed as we approached the bridge. “What’s on the bridge?” he asked. I was surprised he could see anything. I wiped the condensation from the window and squinted to see through the rain. Orange rectangles glimmered along the length of the bridge. “Looks like construction,” I said. Paul cursed and rolled up to a man in a safety vest.

         “The wind blew a tree and some rubble down onto the road,” the man told Paul through the open window. “We should be clear here in about twenty minutes.”

         Paul pulled off to the right side of the bridge and parked the Jeep. “Do you have the number for Anna’s daycare in your cell?” he asked me. I checked. I didn’t. Paul called up the number on his cell and passed it to me. “Tell them we’re going to be late.”

         I was going to say something like Tell them yourself, because he wasn’t driving or anything, and I hated talking on the phone. But Paul looked tired, or sad, or something, so I decided I didn’t want to badger him and make him pissy.

         I informed the daycare and then gave the phone back to Paul. We just sat there for a while. I was bored. Finally I started singing the pokemon theme song. I looked at Paul to join in but he just kind of smiled half-heartedly. He looked out of it. “Fine, Paul, be a party-pooper,” I said. He just kept staring down at his hands. I sighed and flopped back on my seat. The wind was still whistling outside the Jeep. I began to get antsy. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sit there doing nothing for twenty minutes. I opened my door a crack and the wind tossed my hair in my face. I looked over at Paul. He didn’t say anything so I hopped out of the Jeep. The wind slammed the door behind me. My hair lashed about and licked at my face and shoulders. I leaned on the Jeep and let the rain hit my face and soak my clothes. The wind was so loud I could scarcely hear the slam of the car door as Paul got out of the Jeep.  I pressed my face to the Jeep, and goose bumps trailed down my spine.

When I noticed Paul, he was far down the bridge and looking at the view of the river from behind the railing. I began to walk down the bridge to Paul. The wind was sweeping across the bridge, trying to blow me to the opposite side.  Paul started climbing up the railing. It was making me nervous. He had his feet under the top rung when he let go and tipped his body forward off the rail.

“Paul!” I shouted, running after him. I stumbled in a puddle and fell to my knees. My whole body trembling, I looked up to where Paul had fallen. “Paul,” I screamed, “you jerk!”

         Paul was leaning at a tight angle over the railing, seemingly suspended in midair. It was the wind. It was so strong it kept him from falling. I got up from the puddle and went to stand by Paul. My head was spinning. Paul saw me and pulled himself back in. He had a huge smile on his face. “Paul” I said, trying not to cry, “You scared me.” He just laughed. “Try it,” he said. I shook my head. “Olivia, try it.”

         I climbed the railing in a trance. Paul kept his hands around my legs. I spread my arms, leaned forward, and prepared to fall. But I didn’t. My heart was fluttering and I felt dizzy and sick. But excited and happy. And scared. Very scared. The wind blew my hair back and nipped at my wet clothes. Each breath I took was like tasting the storm. It felt like I would float away if it weren’t for Paul’s hands keeping me tied down. It was the best experience, but I could only take so much. Carefully I climbed down, dizzy and giddy. We walked back to the Jeep and the construction man gave us the OK to cross the bridge.

         “How did you know the wind would catch you?” I asked Paul as we crossed the bridge. Water splashed up onto the window as he turned a corner. “I don’t know,” he said, “I wanted to feel what it’s like to fall.” I held my breath as the wind whirred around us. Thank you, I thought, thank you for not letting him.

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