pluviophile

chapter one

Leaves.

They fly around like they’re afraid of something (I don’t blame them).

Rain.

Buckets of rain, actually.

The clouds had been heavy for a long time; this I was sure of.

But why now?

“Mom,” I say, looking up from my book, “Can we check the weather?”

My mom looks up from her book and says, “Your dad is trying to get the Internet to work. But with all this rain, it’s tough on him. We’ll just have to wait it out.”

I glare back at my book and mutter, “Yeah, and this big mountainous wilderness we’re living in might have something to do with it.” I’m sitting on the floor against a wall and my back’s sore; I’m grumpy because our living room furniture hasn’t come yet, for some reason.

If Mom heard me, she ignored my sarcastic comment and kept reading.

I get up angrily and slam down my book. Mom looks up at me like she’s saying, I wonder what she’s angry about! I storm off, up to my room, only realizing that I probably should’ve brought my book with me, because it’s not like there’s anything else to do.

And it’s sort of interesting.

My cat, Gigi, is curled up on my bed, his head turned upside down with a paw over his ear.

Gigi’s the most irresistible kitty in the world. He’s golden with a white-orange striped tail, a little white spot on his third eye, the loudest purr in the history of purring cats, and his belly is big and white and fluffy!

Careful not to startle Gigi, I curl up around him on my bed and cuddle up next to him. Once he notices my company and is half-awake (or at least out of his deep kitty sleep), he starts purring. Loudly.

I smile and I think he smiles too. Who needs a book when you have Gigi?

“You’re the best furry, fat, purry cat,” I say. Then I smile even more because that rhymes and I like it when things I say rhyme. “Maybe I should write a poem for you, Gigi!”

Gigi kicks his back leg into my stomach, his claws out. They scratch me, and I squawk. “Gigi!”

Then I look at his cute little whiskery face and I forgive him. But I don’t admit that it’s because he’s so cute. Instead, I tell myself it’s because he only scratched me to tell me he didn’t like that idea because he can’t really speak anyhow.

Then I remember the whole No-Internet muddle and I groan. “I don’t know if I can take it anymore, Gigi,” I say. “How am I supposed to live here if there’s no Internet? The only reason I agreed to move is because I thought I would still be able to actually communicate with my friends! I swear, Gigi, I’m losing my mind!”

If you point out that I’m talking to my cat about my problems, it’s just proving my point.

Gigi just looks at me. “Well, you’re no help anyways,” I say, poking his belly. He replies with a scratch on my hand. I squeal because then it starts stinging and then there’s some droplets of blood on it. “You bad cat!”

I jump off my bed and rush into the bathroom.

I then wipe my scratch with a piece of wet toilet paper, jump onto the toilet to get the Band-Aids from the top shelf and slap one onto my hand.

Then I quietly go back into my room, hoping Gigi is asleep again. He isn’t. Now he’s sitting up, back hunched in that cute, sleepy way. His eyes aren’t even half open, probably even less than a quarter, and now I wish I hadn’t done and said the things I did.

Of course, of course! It’s just a cat, you’ll probably say. But Gigi’s not just a cat. He’s my cat, and I love him like a member of the family. He is a member of the family.

“Sorry, Gigi,” I say, wrapping my arms around his little furry body. He just sits there and purrs. I sit back up and kiss the little white spot on his forehead, like I always do every day. He closes his eyes, flicks his tail, lays down, and, like always, purrs.

I smile and curl up around him. “Hey Gigi?” I say. He purrs. “Dad will get the Internet working tomorrow, maybe. And then… Then we’ll make a YouTube account and I’ll make you popular, Gigi. You’ll be a kitty star.”

Luckily, Gigi likes this idea and doesn’t kick me. I smile and pet his head. I’ll take a cat nap with him. Maybe just for a little bit. T here's nothing else to do, anyways.

***

Something stirs in the shadows. I creep forward. I look around nervously, and am happy to see that Gigi is near me; at my heels, actually. But he’s scared too. Then all of a sudden, his ears prick up and his tail stands on end. His back is arched. Then I feel a shiver down my spine. Then- BOOM! A big explosion knocks us backwards, and I’m falling now. Falling, falling, falling…

As if I am landing from an unsuccessful skydiving trip, my eyes fly open and I feel like I've just fallen onto my bed. I lift my head. “Gigi?”

Suddenly, another explosion sound crashes through the air. BOOM! I yelp and leap off my bed, startling Gigi. But I don’t have time for apologizing to him this time.

I run downstairs into the kitchen, where Mom and Dad are casually sipping their coffee. “Mom! Dad!” I cry. They look up, almost as startled as me.

“What is it, Talia?” Mom asks, setting her coffee down.

I pause, confused. “Didn’t you hear that explosion? What’s happening?”

My mom and dad frown. Then they look at each other. And then do you know what they do? They laugh. They laugh at that! How is that funny in any way? I stare at them. Finally, after they finish laughing, Dad explains.

“Talia, there’s a quarry near us,” He says. “It’s probably six miles away from us.”

“I don’t get it,” I say. “That still doesn’t explain the explosion sound.”

“Well, y ou didn't let me finish."

I take a deep breath, my heart still pounding from the explosion. “I can’t believe what just happened,” I say.

“That explosion was crazy, wasn’t it?” Mom says.

I shake my head. “No,” I say. “Well, yes. But the even crazier thing about it is you didn’t even tell me I’d be hearing explosions!! What sort of psycho, uninhabited mountain is this?!”

Mom and Dad look at each other for a second. Then they laugh- AGAIN!

“Seriously,” I say. “Tell me why there’s explosions and no internet and so much freaking rain!!” I’m so angry right now, I think I’m about to explode. Why did we have to move here? Sure, Gigi doesn’t mind. But he’s a cat! He only cared the first three hours of the drive up. He threw up a couple times and got upset, but once we arrived, he didn’t care- Not one bit! So why am I the only one that doesn’t like this place, you ask? Because my whole family is crazy!!

“Well,” Dad says, just smiling, “The quarry takes big boulders and blows them up with dynamite.”

“What for?” I ask. Then I cut Dad off and say, “You know what? I don’t care! I’m going back upstairs to… Read a book or something.”

“That’s a good hobby,” Mom says, beaming. I groan. Storming up the stairs and picking up a book to read with Gigi, I yell, “I wish it wasn’t my only hobby!”