Samantha

Samantha

         The rain beat viciously against the window. Drops, like crystal tears, slid down the glass, running after each other, catching up and forming little puddles on the cracked windowsill. The trees outside valiantly faced the gray, stony sky, drinking the nourishment given so abundantly. A streak of lightning snuck up and pierced the heavy clouds, momentarily puncturing the dullness of the descending fog. A roll of thunder followed lazily, booming across the sky, echoing in the hills, and with it came a sudden quiescence.

         It had been raining almost nonstop for four days now and Samantha was very unhappy. She sat on the window-seat, poised on the soft cushion, looking outside. On the other side of the glass, as if in a different world, as far as the eye could see, stretched the Huntington valley. On both sides huge trees with emerald-green crowns preserved the nestled jewel. But even the green giants couldn't protect it from the wrath of a summer storm. They swayed in the ruthless wind, bending low to the ground, as if paying obeisance to the power of the tempest.

         "Weaklings, all of them," Samantha thought irritably, "only good for luring children to heights from which adults have to rescue them." She stretched luxuriously and looked back to the valley.

         The silky grass, so lush and green on warm summer days, now struggled to stay closer to the ground, as if to hide from the merciless stream of drops from the sky. The berry bushes cringed and quivered, clinging to the trees for protection. So many colors existed in the valley on sunny days, the red and blue berries - erratic strokes of a paintbrush, the green leaves - emeralds glowing and shimmering in the sunshine, all the brilliance dulled now by the gray cloak of the tempest. The mercurial storm suddenly eased, allowing the ragged wind to play hide and seek with the bushes. He hid among the trees and when the bushes would straighten out cautiously, he hit them full force, causing red and blue showers to fall to the ground. On and on stretched this game of nature versus itself.

         Samantha sighed and thought how deserted all looked now. This dreary place was not the valley she loved. The trees looked tired of fighting and the blades of grass struggled under the heavy drops beating on them. Samantha thought she could almost hear them whisper, "Stop, it's too much." She stretched and sneezed.

         "I am so lonely," she thought. Again she contemplated wistfully the rest of the family enjoying themselves on their vacation. She was angry at herself for refusing to stay with the neighbors as she usually did when she didn't want to tag along with the family on their outings. Their kids weren't a bad lot and she did get along with Cathy.
         "But," she reasoned, "who knew it was going to rain? Is this my punishment for wanting a little freedom?" At least Cathy was punctual with the meals and even left the radio set to the classical music station so that it played softly in the background twenty-four hours a day. Samantha once again imagined the valley on a sunny day and thought wistfully about the unlocked back door, but who'd want to go outside now?

         "They took care of everything, but the weather," she sighed, "and now that it's raining, no more frolicking in the valley. I am miserable, and they are enjoying themselves somewhere in Florida."

         The weather forecaster came on the air cutting off the end of Samantha's favorite melody and she stifled a grunt of disappointment. Almost slipping off her pillow, she stretched toward the radio to listen for any words of encouragement. There were none. The cheery voice of the reporter made some joke about it raining "cats and dogs" and Samantha winced with displeasure but listened nevertheless.

         "...As for the weather, it will improve in most parts of the region, with the exception of the Huntington valley where the rain is going to pick up and has already reached five inches. We're expecting seven inches of rain altogether from that region this week, so keep your umbrella handy if you are going out. In other news tonight..."

         "Fhrrrr," as a sign of protest, Samantha turned away from the radio and back to the window, stretching more comfortably on the cushions. She watched the drops for a few more minutes and then started to doze off as the voices on the radio disappeared and music once again filled the room. Her last thought before she fell asleep was,

         "I wish I was human. The rain doesn't seem to bother them quite as much as it bothers us cats."