Fraught with Danger | Len Saculla
Martha noticed that there were slightly fewer people at the top of the hill tonight. At least the wind seemed to have dropped for now and the rain wasn’t due till after midnight. Her son was fidgeting by her side.
“Mum, I’m bored, I want to go home now.”
“Shh, Jake, this is really important stuff.”
“Aw, Mum, I’m cold.”
“Do your coat up then.”
To her surprise, he complied, awkward white fingers pushing overlarge buttons through sewn slits. She looked up at the chill winter sky. No sign yet.
“An’ I’m hungry and thirsty,” the boy added, having now attended to fastening his jacket.
“Jake, I can’t have you drinking too much and needing the toilet. We’ll miss the light show in the sky. And then we would look very silly, wouldn’t we?”
Appeal to his sense of self-importance and the childish need to never show himself up. Characteristics inherited from his father, Kyle, whose access rights gave him every Sunday with the boy. Three more days yet.
“But, Mum, we saw one last week. And the week before that.”
“That’s because Earth is passing through a shower from some broken asteroids. Come on, Jake, admit that last week was spectacular. Better than fireworks or even the Northern Lights. People say this one – A504V, I think it’s called – is going to pass closer than ever and will be visible for a whole day.”
Martha bit her tongue, realising that if A504V was going to dominate the sky for twenty-four hours there was no need to rush to Saltford Hill to catch such an early glimpse. Maybe young smarty-pants would pull her on that as well –
“What’s ‘visible’ mean?”
“It means you can see it,” she answered. “Now stop your whinging or I’m not bringing you again.”
Oh God, this being a caring mother business was so fraught with danger. She mentally castigated herself for such a statement which would hand the ultimate victory to his moaning.
No breeze had been forecast but she still felt a sudden strong gust nearly knock the two of them off their feet. Even the ground seemed unsteady. She gripped her son’s hand more tightly as she felt her own legs trembling slightly inside her faded jeans.
“I still can’t see it,” Jake mumbled, seemingly unconcerned by any meteorological changes. “Anyway,” he continued, “Mr Rogers, my teacher, said this one’s got a sixty percent chance of hitting. That’s more than half; I’m good at numbers.”
Her grip on the boy tightened still further as she answered, “Your Mr Rogers is a scaremonger. If he was here now I’d give him a piece of my mind. Is he coming tonight?”
“Ouch. I mean, no, Mum, he’s headed for the Central Bunker.”
“What a wuss! Shouldn’t be in charge of children. Now, sh, look over there, I can see something off to the east. Wow, it’s really bright and it feels like –”
“Mum, I’m bored, I want to go home now.”
“Shh, Jake, this is really important stuff.”
“Aw, Mum, I’m cold.”
“Do your coat up then.”
To her surprise, he complied, awkward white fingers pushing overlarge buttons through sewn slits. She looked up at the chill winter sky. No sign yet.
“An’ I’m hungry and thirsty,” the boy added, having now attended to fastening his jacket.
“Jake, I can’t have you drinking too much and needing the toilet. We’ll miss the light show in the sky. And then we would look very silly, wouldn’t we?”
Appeal to his sense of self-importance and the childish need to never show himself up. Characteristics inherited from his father, Kyle, whose access rights gave him every Sunday with the boy. Three more days yet.
“But, Mum, we saw one last week. And the week before that.”
“That’s because Earth is passing through a shower from some broken asteroids. Come on, Jake, admit that last week was spectacular. Better than fireworks or even the Northern Lights. People say this one – A504V, I think it’s called – is going to pass closer than ever and will be visible for a whole day.”
Martha bit her tongue, realising that if A504V was going to dominate the sky for twenty-four hours there was no need to rush to Saltford Hill to catch such an early glimpse. Maybe young smarty-pants would pull her on that as well –
“What’s ‘visible’ mean?”
“It means you can see it,” she answered. “Now stop your whinging or I’m not bringing you again.”
Oh God, this being a caring mother business was so fraught with danger. She mentally castigated herself for such a statement which would hand the ultimate victory to his moaning.
No breeze had been forecast but she still felt a sudden strong gust nearly knock the two of them off their feet. Even the ground seemed unsteady. She gripped her son’s hand more tightly as she felt her own legs trembling slightly inside her faded jeans.
“I still can’t see it,” Jake mumbled, seemingly unconcerned by any meteorological changes. “Anyway,” he continued, “Mr Rogers, my teacher, said this one’s got a sixty percent chance of hitting. That’s more than half; I’m good at numbers.”
Her grip on the boy tightened still further as she answered, “Your Mr Rogers is a scaremonger. If he was here now I’d give him a piece of my mind. Is he coming tonight?”
“Ouch. I mean, no, Mum, he’s headed for the Central Bunker.”
“What a wuss! Shouldn’t be in charge of children. Now, sh, look over there, I can see something off to the east. Wow, it’s really bright and it feels like –”