First the sky dulled—a veil of gray erased the blue. White cumulus clouds bloomed on the horizon, inflating like balloons, pushing the air in a new direction. The breeze shifted and cooled, and a few minutes later a branch of halogen light spread a web of electric fingers across the newly darkened sky. “Now what?” Chloe asked as we watched the clouds pass lightning back and forth. “I hope it’s not like last time.” “I don’t think so. It looks different.” I counted eight seconds before the belching rumble broke over us. Did that mean eight miles away? Was that far? It looked like it was coming this way. “I think it’s just a regular thunderstorm.” “Will the plane come back?” “Maybe they can’t fly in this.” Chloe sighed. “Great.” With the sun gone the breeze was almost chilly. A raindrop plopped onto the sand. Then another. “Where are the boys?” “Trying to catch fish, I think.” “Trying. Trying,” Chloe muttered. “I’d rather have oatmeal.”
