Penny And Jack’s Storm

Rain tapped the window like tiny fingers.

Penny pressed her nose to the cool glass of her little home. Beside her, Jack spun the wheel so fast that it squeaked.

“Listen!” Jack said.

A deep rumble rolled across the sky. The room trembled just a little.

Penny’s whiskers shook. She liked the warm room, the soft bedding, and the smell of sunflower seeds in their dish. But she and Jack had always been curious. They had slipped out before through loose doors and tiny gaps. They knew the way from their home to the back door.

Tonight, the back door was not shut all the way.

A thin line of gray light showed beneath it.

Jack stopped running. “There it is.”

Penny climbed onto the little wooden step. “We should stay inside.”

Jack sniffed the air. It smelled like wet grass and earth. Another rumble rolled above the house.

“I only want to look,” he said.

Penny looked at the door again. Wind brushed through the crack. It lifted a few bits of bedding near the cage.

The latch on their home had come loose. Jack pushed it with his nose. Penny placed her paws beside his.

Click.

The door opened.

They slipped out together.

The floor felt smooth and cold under Penny’s paws. She followed Jack past the chair and under the table. A flash of white light filled the room, and then the thunder came with a loud boom.

Penny froze.

Jack waited beneath the table. “Come on, Penny. The yard is right there.”

Penny hurried after him. They reached the back door just as a gust of wind pushed it wider. Rain sprayed across the floor. It tickled Penny’s nose.

Jack darted through.

Penny followed.

The backyard was no longer the quiet place they knew. Water rushed along the ground in shining little streams. Leaves spun across the grass. The air smelled of rain, mud, and leaves.

“Jack!” Penny called.

“I’m here!” he squeaked from beside the flower bed.

Penny ran toward him. The grass brushed her sides, wet and heavy. A raindrop landed on her back. It felt like a cold pebble.

They often escaped together, but this was different. The yard seemed much bigger in the storm. The fence leaned and creaked. Branches waved high above them.

Jack hurried toward the old wooden box near the shed.

“That is our hiding place,” he said.

Penny knew the box. On sunny days, they had crawled beneath it and found dry crumbs and a warm patch of dirt. She followed Jack over a stone and around a puddle.

Then a strong wind swept across the yard.

The wooden box tipped onto its side and slid through the mud.

Jack jumped back. Penny bumped into him.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” Jack said, though his fur was wet and stuck to his face. “We need another place.”

A bright flash lit the yard. Thunder boomed again.

Penny saw the low space beneath the porch. It was dark, but the ground there looked dry.

“Under the porch!” she called.

They ran side by side. Water splashed around Penny’s feet. Jack reached the porch first, but a pile of fallen leaves blocked the opening.

He pushed at the leaves. Penny dug beside him. The wet leaves clung to their paws.

“It won’t move,” Jack said.

“Try the other side.”

They crawled along the porch boards. The wind rattled them overhead. Penny could hear rain drumming on the roof. She could also hear something else - a long crack from the tree near the fence.

Jack stopped digging.

Penny pressed close to him. “What was that?”

A branch groaned above them.

“Back!” Jack squeaked.

They turned toward the flower bed. Penny ran as fast as she could. Jack was right beside her. The rain blurred everything. The house lights shone through the wet air, but the yard between them and the house looked wide and strange.

Another gust shook the tree.

Penny heard Jack call her name.

Then the branch broke.

It fell with a heavy crash near the flower bed. Leaves and small twigs scattered across the mud. Penny rolled beneath a thick clump of plants. Cold dirt pressed against her belly.

For a moment, she could hear only rain.

“Jack?” she called.

No answer came.

Penny crawled out. The broken branch lay across the ground. She searched beside it, under the leaves, and near the stones.

“Jack?” she called again.

The storm answered with thunder.

Penny hurried around the branch. She looked beneath the porch. She looked behind the flower pot. She looked near the shed.

Nothing.

A bright light appeared at the back door. The father stepped outside with a coat over his head.

“Penny! Jack!” he called.

Penny heard his voice, but the wind pushed the sound away. She ran toward the house, then stopped when another gust sent leaves swirling across her path.

The father took one step into the yard. Rain splashed his shoes.

“Come inside!” he called.

Penny wanted to go. She wanted the warm bedding and the little dish of seeds. Most of all, she wanted Jack.

She turned back toward the flower bed.

The father hurried to the fallen branch. He lifted the smaller twigs and looked beneath the leaves....