Maybe I’d imagined the ripple of air, but my hairhadblown back. I glanced behind me at the open window. I hadn’t felt a breeze coming through it before, and I didn’t feel one now. Plus, the rush of air had blown my hairbacknotforward.
My tongue remained stuck to the spoon as I turned toward my mom. She’d frozen with her finger in the middle of scooping cookie dough onto the sheet. Gravity took over, and the ball fell with a wet plop onto the sheet. The sudden intrusion of sound caused metojump.
My tongue returned to my mouth, and I slowly lowered the spoon as my mom lifted her head and her eyes met mine. Was that fear I saw there? My mom wasn’t afraid ofanything!
I was struck with the overwhelming urge to cry as I gazed at her blue eyes, so similar in hue to mine. However, I’d turned eight last month, which meant I didn’t cry anymore. I certainly didn’t cry because I’d imagined seeing a ripple of air and it had suddenly become very quiet outside. That was something seven-year-olds did, and only because they werebabies.
I resolved not to cry, but I squeaked when a bunch of car alarms went off at the same time and the high-pitched noise pierced the air. The spoon clattered onto the counter when I dropped it to clap my hands over my ears. My mother wiped her hands on her apron before gathering me intoherarms.
I was small for my age, but I’d stopped letting her carry me two years ago. Now, I was happy to let her lift me off the counter as car horns and alarms continued to blare. I lowered my hands from my ears and hugged her. When the neighborhood dogs all released an eerie howl, my arms tightened aroundherneck.
“It’s okay, my bonnie girl,” she whispered, but her voice trembled before she kissed mytemple.
Leaving the kitchen behind, she walked into the living room and toward the front door. Shifting her hold on me, she gripped the knob, twisted it, and stepped onto the porch. It was my porch with its peeling white paint, familiar red door, and drooping potted plants hanging from the beams. However, I felt as if we’d stepped into another world as dogs howled, horns honked, and people shouted to be heard over thecacophony.
My eyes went to the sky and the hundreds of birds rising from the trees. Their multicolored feathers would have been beautiful if there were a couple dozen of them, but now their colors blended until it became a rainbow of death spreading over us to block out the sky as they soared higher. Shade spread across the ground as the sun vanished behind their bodies, and it seemed as if it were closer to dusk than earlyafternoon.
The birds didn’t caw or shriek; they simply flew higher and higher. I couldn’t rid myself of the feeling that they knew something was coming and were fleeing from it. I wished for wings to take my mom and me away too, but that wish went unanswered as we remained standing on our sagging porch. Despite the summer day, a shiver ran down my spine and the hair on my arms rose. My mom choked when I hugged hertighter.
“Easy,” she said and tugged at my arms until I loosened mygrasp.
My gaze scanned the nearby homes as people emerged to see what was happening. Most of them appeared as confused as I felt. Some of them had their keys pointed at their cars, and some of the alarms shut off. The noise lessened, but my ears stillthrobbed.
A lot of the adults had gone to work for the day, but most of those who remained had children standing by their sides. As I watched, a pack of teenagers slid from the woods across the street and crept closer to my neighbor’sporch.
Then, all the blaring car alarms abruptly ceased. The sudden hush of the world frightened me more than all the noise had. Tears welled in my eyes. I had no idea why I was crying, but they spilled out of my eyes and soaked my cheeks before I couldstopthem.
“Mommy,” I whispered as a few more people emerged from theirhomes.
“It’s okay,” she murmured as she rubbed my back. “A small earthquake probably set off the alarms and stirred up thebirds.”
I’d never experienced an earthquake like it before, and I’dneverseen the birds act so crazy, but I didn’t argue with her. I wanted her to be right too much to argue. I almost stuck my thumb in my mouth, something I hadn’t done in years, but I’d have to let her go, and I refused todoso.
You're a baby.Sniffling, I stifledmysobs.
My mom shifted her hold on me, her arms drooped and I knew she was going to set me down before she did. When my feet hit the porch, I stepped into her side and pressed as close as Icould.
“What happened?” the elderly neighbor across the way called out. He leaned heavily on his cane as the teens stopped at the corner of hisporch.
“Earthquake!” another neighborcalledout.
“Sure didn’t feel like an earthquake!” Mrs. Campbellcalledout.
Mrs. Campbell’s son Chuck had his arms around her waist as he leaned against her side. I didn’t feel like such a baby now as Chuck was my age and my friend. If it hadn’t been cookie day, Chuck and I would have been in his backyard hunting for salamanders or playing king of the castle. I had planned to head over there as soon as the cookies werecooling.
Lifting my hand, I gave a small wave to Chuck. He slid one of his arms away from his mom and waved backatme.
“What else could it have been?” another womandemanded.
What else could it have been? I wondered as I gazed up and down the street. The sun had baked the asphalt until a haze wafted into the air and the scent of tar permeated the day. It was such a warm, summer thing to see and smell, yet my chill sank deeper into my bones, as did the certainty something wascoming.
Some of our neighbors descended their stairs and jogged toward their cars. The dogs all released a shrill yapping before beginning to howl and bark. I slapped my hands over my ears again as fresh tears streamed down my cheeks. My mom wrapped her hand around my head and pulled me close. She cradled me against her stomach when some of the dogs yelped in pain before their cries no longer blended with those of the others. My heart ached for those animals before they abruptly wentsilent.
As one unit, the birds all swooped away from my neighborhood as fast as they could. Their disappearance caused a burst of sunlight to stream down. I blinked rapidly as my eyes adjusted. All the neighbors stopped where they were, and their heads slowly turned back and forth as they searched thestreet.
I held my breath until my lungs burned and I gasped in air. My fingers curled into my mom’s belly as that impending sense of something looming closer grew stronger with every passingsecond.
And then I saw a shadow creeping through the side yard toward the teenagers. I didn’t know what the shadow was until a creature emerged. The creature resembled a man, but it had two black horns curving out of its head and the legs of a goat. It jumped on one of the teen boys. The teen girls shrieked and fled across the street toward our house and the neighborhood beyond. The other two boys tried to pry the weird-looking man off the teen. When they were unsuccessful in freeing their friend, they turned andfledtoo.
