Drought

"Drought"

By

W. P. Gerace

Polly strolled outside her walkway on this unusual, oppressively hot April day. Gazing at her flower bed of what should be her sprouting Petunias and garden of vegetables, nothing was in sight that would indicate a sign of life or blossoming. Discouraged by the current situation, she mumbled to herself. Luckily it was relatively early, and no one would be gawking at her, wondering what in the world she was doing. But she sure was frustrated and worried. They had talked about our climate changing for years. She remembered teaching this to her Environmental Science class at Boulevard Highschool, where she taught in every department except gym for nearly forty years. Watching this fact come into reality was a bit concerning. Living in Philadelphia all her life, she never ever recalled a dry spell like this. Glancing at her light tan watch, she saw the date said April 30th. It has been nearly 30 days with not one drop of rain.

Blazing up in the sky, the sun appeared fire-red, as if it would never let up. The domineering rays were enough to make you sick. A fair-skinned woman, she could never be in the sun too long. Even as a child, her mother would ensure she was well covered during summer. This heat here felt like you were caught in a fire that would never be quenched. Walking around her yard, her poor grass was wilted and had that burnt brown tinge as if it was about to wither and die off.

Bleeping away in her pocket, her cell phone had another weather alert. Concerned and curious, she had to read what it said. A bright dark red banner appeared across the top of the weather app. In bold letters, it read ANOTHER DAY WITHOUT RAIN IN THE DELAWARE VALLEY. THE GOVERNOR IS IMPOSING STRICT WATER RESTRICTIONS. Reading further down, the alert referenced a link to a news article about the Governor's water restrictions.

Polly was still determining what was worse, the intense heat or the Governor's water instructions imposed at noon in nearly 2 hours. No one is to drink the water, use water or even take a shower. The Delaware River and even the Atlantic Ocean are dangerously low. There were pictures of the once Jersey Shore town of Wildwood, where she had spent many summers as a child and even as an educator for vacation. The water was so low it looked shallow. It was like looking at a puddle. She could see the murky brown surface of the ocean floor, and fish and other sea creatures were all dried up, their prune-like bodies scattered all over the beaches. Seaweed had lost its dark green color. It appeared dark charcoal black, burnt from the oppressive heat. The Delaware River was no better. Boats that generally cruised the river's glistening surface were now docked at their various ports. The floor of the river was so low a reporter in the clip who was relatively short stood in what once was the deep part of the river. His feet barely had water touching them.

Reading of all these severe climate changes, many other states were experiencing the same adverse effects. Flipping through her phone and not paying attention to the intense heat, many locations were imposing fines and jail time just for watering your lawn or cooking. What in the world was going on, Polly wondered. Something like this can not even be possible. This is like something out of some crazy movie.

Off to the side of her patio was a long green garden hose. Though she could not get much water for her plants, she knew her neighbors, the Millers, had a well she could get water. Both Chad and Amber were working, so they would never know. The rebel in her propelled her to action. Climbing their fence, forgetting she had her phone in her hand, it fell clumsily to the patio and cracked on her brick surface. Splattered everywhere she was so mad it was a brand new phone which cost her a nice sum of change. Luckily she took the insurance.

Forgetting about the Miller's pit bull Cody a vicious beast as far as she was concerned, he appeared out of nowhere. Polly was always frightened of dogs, especially Pit Bulls saw his beady dark eyes and sharp teeth parted as the dog growled in a low tone. Realizing she would not have time to jump the fence and get back, she felt fear flood her previous confident emotions.

Her chest felt as if someone were sitting on it. Barely able to breathe, the day's heat finally caught up to her. Suddenly she felt lightheaded and slowly felt herself fall to the hard surface of the Miller's patio.

"Oh, my goodness. My leg!! "Polly could hear her brittle bones snap.

Trepidation invaded her previous confident thoughts. Unable to talk or move, she wondered how long she would be here before someone found her. Cody growled from a distance but kept in his space. Crying was the only thing she could do here. She was a woman of nearly seventy-five about to wither in this oppressive heat, and was it worth it.

"Honey, mamma is here. "There stood her mother in her favorite sunflower dress, white hat, and gloves.

"Mama, my leg is broken, I think. I can't move." Polly could not believe she was having a conversation with her dead mother.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, where we are going; you won't have to worry about pain or anything. "Grabbing her mother's hand, it all made sense.