Children of the Storm

Max Hestian loved the rain. Especially the rain after a particularly horrid blaze. If the temperature was okay and the season proper, on rainy nights he would sit outside his house and let the storm wash over him. The cool droplets felt soothing on his large body, his exposed flesh. Not that he would ever sit outside naked, mind you. That’d be indecent. Still, he’d let out a sigh of relief as a hard day’s tension melted away in the comforting rain shower.

This had been a dry summer. Too dry. Max cursed the idiots who said global warming wasn’t real. Lot of bad fires that needed dealing with.

Max thought of Nate and Dorothy. She refused to be called “Dot.” Said she wasn’t a little kid anymore. Not like Nate. Nate would be starting kindergarten in the fall.

Both were orphans, thanks to an explosion a couple of months back. The new shopping mall. Been under construction for what seemed like an eternity. Would probably be closed for even longer. So many people dead. Many more hurt and scarred for life.

Of course Max had been the one to find Nate and Dorothy. With his size and frame, Max was used to charging through infernos like a juggernaut to reach those in harm’s way. When he found the kids trapped near what was once a carousel, he thought they were brother and sister. Turned out they weren’t related. Didn’t even know each other. They’d been separated from their families in the chaos and got stuck together in a corner of the mall.

Nate and Dorothy had been the lucky ones.

There were other children left without parents. Parents without their children. Entire families burned away. And for what? Because someone thought blowing up a mall would send a message about who should be allowed in what bathroom. Max didn’t understand it.

Max stretched his muscular arms, then placed his hands over his big belly. He worried maybe this was a mistake. When he found out about Nate and Dorothy’s situation, he offered to take the kids in as a foster dad. Since his mother moved out the previous year – after finally divorcing his no-good father – there’d been so much space Max didn’t know what to do with. It didn’t feel like home, just a house. He wanted to give Nate and Dorothy a home.

Max’s hands trailed up to the gold cross that rested between his pillowy pectorals. He felt a moral obligation to help those kids. Of course, he didn’t dare expect either of them to see Max as their “new dad.” Nor would he try to force them to consider each other as brother and sister. Even if they’d been through a traumatic experience together, Max wouldn’t automatically assume Nate and Dorothy bonded. This wasn’t some cheesy sitcom. They still needed time to get used to each other, and to Max.

Possibly.

Maybe…

Maybe not.

Had he done this because he wanted to help those kids? Or was it just for the sake of moral superiority and his own ego? Was this what a “good person” would do? What if he was doing this to shut up the people who didn’t understand why Max was single, why he chose to remain single. His own mother didn’t understand it.

“A good looking boy like you shouldn’t have to adopt someone else’s kids,” she said. “Plenty of women looking for a man like you, Max.”

He didn’t want any of those women. Or men. Or anyone. But should that stop him from having a family?

Was it right to drag the kids into this? Was he really just using them to prove a point in justifying his lifestyle choices?

The rain began to pick up speed, so Max headed inside before the storm intensified. It truly felt good to sit out there and relax, but there was still much to worry about. Drying off his long, black hair, Max looked back on the past month.

Nate and Dorothy were still settling in. Seeing a therapist twice a week. Max himself saw one every month. It was difficult, draining work being a firefighter and an arson investigator. Rewarding, but if he didn’t have Dr. Thompson to talk to…

They still hadn’t found the culprit responsible for the bombing. Right now, there wasn’t enough evidence to determine if this was an isolated attack, or the work of a serial bomber. There’d been threats made against the mall’s construction, but so far none of them had hinted at the possibility of a bombing. Whoever they were, they were out there and could strike again. 

It enraged Max, and those who knew him noted he rarely, if ever, got mad, knowing the culprit was out there, after what they’d done to Nate, Dorothy, and so many other innocent people. Max would do his best to personally ensure the bastard was found and put away for the rest of their miserable life. He figured at least he could do that for Nate and Dorothy. He couldn’t give them their families back, but beyond his home, maybe he could give them a sense of closure so they could move forward.

Anyway, Max was also straightening out Nate’s arrangements to start school. Dorothy would be entering 8th Grade. He could only imagine how scary it was for them. Dorothy was probably feeling isolated in a new school away from the people she’d known for years, while Nate would be attending class for the first time ever.

Figuring out food was the most difficult aspect. Nate was an extremely picky eater. Max did his best to be patient, but it was clear there were subtleties he wasn’t picking up on. Nate still expected his parents to prepare his meals for him just the way he wanted. As of right now, he would only eat a certain type of cereal, and toast with a certain type of jam. Max read if he tried to force Nate to try new things, he’d be less likely to do it on his own.

Dorothy, on the other hand, didn’t seem to like or dislike any food. Truthfully, she didn’t seem to like or dislike anything. Secretly, this frustrated Max. He wanted to provide Dorothy and Nate with a comfortable home, but it was hard to do that with Dorothy being so tight lipped. Their first night in Max’s house, he tried to prepare their favorite foods to welcome them. First, he needed to know what those were. Nate had obliged with an answer. Dorothy had not given one beyond a vague “Don’t worry about it,” so they ordered pizza while Nate had toast and jam and cereal. It wasn’t the warm welcome Max had wanted to give them, but he didn’t want to ignore what they told him. It was important they knew Max was willing to actually listen to what they had to say.

But was he listening to the things they weren’t saying too?

Dry in the house and out of his wet shorts, Max slipped into a comfortable pair of warm sweats and an old jersey for a football team that didn’t exist. He sighed. The rain had felt good, but-

BOOM!

Thunder, followed by lightning. Followed by the sound of crying.

Hurrying upstairs, Max opened the door to Nate’s bedroom to find the little boy sobbing and terrified. Nate’s arms were wrapped tightly around a faded stuffed octopus that once belonged to one of Max’s cousins. Most of the toys in the room were donated by Max’s extended family, and thus old and worn. Nate didn’t seem to mind. He latched onto the octopus the moment he saw it in his new room. It reminded Max of the little boy from The Egypt Game.

“Nate, what’s wrong?” Max asked as he went to Nate’s bedside. “It’s okay, Nate, just breathe. It’s okay.”

It took a while, but Max waited for Nate to calm down long enough to tell him what was wrong.

“I thought it, it was,” Nate tried to say. “The boom, it-”

“It was what?” Max calmly inquired. “Like…?”

“Like…” Nate tried to say and then started crying again. “I want my mommy.”

“I know, I know,” Max assured him, “it’ll be okay Nate.”

Max instinctively picked Nate up and gently rocked him back and forth, letting Nate sob into his shoulder. Quietly, carefully, Max carried Nate out of the bedroom and brought him downstairs to give him some water. Nate held onto his octopus doll the whole time.

“Drink it slowly Nate or you might choke,” Max advised as Nate kept hiccupping. The little boy shook whenever he heard the thunder outside. Normally Max loved the sound of thunder and lightning during a storm, but not at the expense of Nate’s comfort. He could only imagine the memories caused by the thunder, the sound of the explosion in the mall, the frenzy from losing his parents.

“Do you want some more?” Max asked as Nate put down the empty cup to pick his octopus back up.

Nate shook his head.

“Would you like anything else?”

Again, Nate shook his head.

Sighing, Max said “You’re probably not gonna be able to fall back asleep, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” Nate apologized while fiddling with the octopus’s plush appendages and too ashamed to look Max in the eye.

“Nate, you don’t have to apologize,” Max said. “Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?”

“I dunno,” Nate said. “I don’t like thunder.”

“Hmm, I have an idea,” Max thought aloud and carried Nate with him into the living room. His mother had been one of those people who thought DVDs and blu-rays were a joke, so she’d refused to let Max’s dad get rid of their VHS tapes. As such, she held onto most of the videos Max used to watch as a kid. Max himself didn’t have the heart to get rid of most of them, especially now.

“Have you ever heard of ‘Nightcap?’” Max asked Nate, curled up on the big old sofa. When Nate shook his head, Max explained “It’s a show that used to be on TV a long time ago. It’s about a little ghost that goes on nighttime adventures.”

“Ghosts’re scary,” Nate said.

“Not Nightcap. She’s a friendly ghost. She wears a little sleeping cap and carries around a big nightlight,” Max chuckled fondly remembering the show. “I used to watch this all the time when I was a little kid.”

“You were little?” Nate found it hard to believe since Max was so big. Bigger than his own dad had been.

“I was just as small as you, and y’know, I used to be scared of thunder too.” Max knelt down to Nate’s eye level and confided in him “Between you and me, I was scared of a lot of things as a kid.”

“Really?”

“I was a total fraidy cat,” Max explained. “But watching Nightcap showed me I didn’t have to be scared of everything. She also showed that sometimes it’s okay to be scared.”

“Oh,” Nate didn’t know what to say.

“We can watch for a while until you feel sleepy again, if you want. Would you like that, Nate?”

“Okay, but,” Nate hesitated, “it’s not too scary, is it?”

“What are you guys doing up?” An irritated voice asked. Max looked up to see Dorothy standing in the entrance to the living room, looking annoyed.

“Hey Dorothy, did we wake you up?” Max stood up.

“No, I was awake anyway,” Dorothy revealed.

“You have trouble sleeping too?” Max asked, to which Dorothy shrugged. “Well, Nate and I were going to watch a tape if you want to join us?”

“A tape?” Dorothy sounded disgusted. “Don’t you have DVDs?”

Nate said, “It’s a tape about a ghost that’s not scary.”

“Thrilling,” Dorothy rolled her eyes.

“Well, you’re welcome to join us but if you don’t want to-“

“I didn’t say that,” Dorothy cut Max off as she headed around the sofa. “Put it in.”

“You sure?”

“Not like I can fall asleep anyway.”

“Did the boom scare you too?” Nate asked. “It sounded like-”

“I know what it sounded like,” Dorothy quickly said in a lower voice.

“Max said sometimes it’s okay to be scared, Dorothy.” Nate thought about it for a moment, and held up his little octopus pal to his foster sister, surprising her and Max. “Do you wanna hold Socks?”

Dorothy looked at Nate, and at Socks, not saying a word, trying to comprehend what he just told her as he looked up with innocent green eyes. Max wasn’t sure what to make of the expression on her face, when Dorothy silently gestured for Nate to hold onto his friend as she took her place on the couch.

Max put the tape into the ancient VCR, rewound it to the beginning, and pressed play. On the couch, he found himself sitting between the two kids. He felt a sense of nostalgia as they watched coming attractions for animated movies neither one had ever seen, answering their questions before the show finally began.

The rain began to slow down, and the thunder and lightning had all about ceased. Max, Nate and Dorothy found themselves falling asleep to the steady rhythm of rain drops on windows while on the screen, a ghost puppet taught live action children about monsters living in closets.