The door to Mom and Dad's room was open, he could hear them chatting about who knows what. He walked in slow and steady, and made straight for the dark place under the desk. His parents leaned facing each other on the bed, Dad's back was turned. It didn't seem like Dad was going anywhere soon, so he laid down on the floor and listened.
He didn't understand the words they were using, but the sound of it made him feel safe. He closed his eyes and began to snore. He was just dreaming of pancakes when he woke suddenly at the sound of the bed springs shifting. A familiar sound, one that for some reason always made him want to go outside. Mom turned out her light and rolled over, snuggling into the quilt. Dad stood up from the bed and pulled his gym shorts on. That was his cue. He rose on all fours and poked his head out from his hiding place.
While Dad walked back and forth through the house a bit picking up dishes and finding his drink, he slunk past to wait in the living room shadows. Water rushed out of the tap, loud against the stillness of bedtime. As the man of the house drew near, he stood and couldn't help but pant with anticipation.
"Ready, Thunder?"
Dad opened the screen door but he went through first. The night was noisy, as usual. Cars, check; frogs & insects, check. He paused at the top of the stairs, waiting to be sure no strangers were walking through his yard. He could already tell that someone had, but no one was around now. He looked at Dad to check in, but the man was already lit by a pale glow in his rocking chair. He took this to be permission to roam, and headed out into the yard to snoop around.
The various weeds, wildflowers, and grasses that comprised the yard were always interesting, and sometimes he would put his nose right against it and snort the smells of the earth. He liked the spot just off the porch to the right, where the sun shone down all day. The patch of thick zoysia was a most welcoming place to roll around or just lay out in nice weather. It was peaceful tonight, but he could taste a charge in the air. He continued along, methodically checking out each flowerbed, then moving around the perimeter. Dad says not to leave the yard, so he always stopped right at the edge, even when he wanted to play with the dog across the street, or chase a bird. It was okay though, there was a lot going on on his own turf. Most of what he found he expected, but there was a new addition to the patch of grass between the hard path and the road. Unsurprisingly, some rude dog had paused in his walk and left his stink behind. He followed the precedent, and after felt better in a couple of ways.
He moseyed to the backyard, but the neighbors dog barked at him a little more aggressively than he was comfortable with if Dad wasn't around, so he went back around the house. He could smell the sweet, burning stick before he could see it in Dad's mouth as he drummed away at the thing he held. He wasn't sure what the thing was, but there were all sizes of them, and his family seemed very interested in looking at them. He nudged Dad's arm with his nose, and was pleased when the man began to stroke his hair and scratch his back. The triple pat on the shoulder was Dad's way of telling him to make himself scarce, and he obliged, finding a nice spot on the rug before the door and slumping down with the faintest huff of breath.
He was content to lie with his head on the cool cement and take in the city. After a while though, he heard a sound he couldnt explain. It was a sound he'd heard before, and sometimes haunted his dreams. Deep and distant, the sound was a directionless rumble and crash. He stood with a start, casting about for the elusive source of the noise. It was the disembodiment of the noise that made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. He wanted to growl, but all he could muster was a half whine. He tried to keep himself from scratching at the door, he knew Dad didn't like it, but he was swept up in a sudden panic as thunder rolled towards him. He was told to wait, but he didn't think he could. He nudged Dad again, but was brushed away. He plead with his eyes then, willing the man to rise with grudging success. Finally the door was opened, and he was safe in the familiar smells and gentle stirrings of the old house. A soft and soothing noise fell from the clouds onto the roof, and seeped through the ceiling into his ears. He checked to make sure no one was around, and walked past his bed and onto the sofa. He stomped in a circle a few times until the cushion was in it's place and he sunk into his makeshift bed, not waiting for Dad to go to sleep.
❤️ jasper
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