raced to her side and jumped up, leaving muddy paw prints on her thighs. Absently, she rubbed his wet head before nudging him away.
Straightening up, she saw just how filthy she was and groaned inwardly. Lou continued to yap at her as she turned her attention back to the sinkhole and shivered. To the best of her knowledge it was the first time the earth had opened up anywhere on her property and she couldn’t help but wonder just how much of the land was hollow. The thought made her queasy; if the land was unfit to build on, selling it would be difficult, if not impossible, unless she was prepared to take a pittance.
She sighed at the prospect of having to get an appraiser to come out, but decided she’d wait until after the rainy season had ended. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
Glancing down at Lou, she said, “What do you say we get out of this rain, huh, boy?”
The dog wagged his bushy tail, happy despite looking like he’d been trudging up and down a muddy river. Rebecca imagined she looked even worse as they started back to the house, giving the sinkhole a wide berth.
There was a moment when the dog paused to stare at the hole, a low growl rumbling up from deep within his chest, but Rebecca called him on and he followed without hesitation.
Back inside, she toweled Lou off before running herself a steaming bath and scrubbing the mud and grime from her skin. Once clean, she felt a little better—less shaky from the close call with the sinkhole—and with every passing moment could see the absurdity in what had been sheer panic. Obviously, even if she’d fallen into the hole, it wouldn’t have been tragic. It’s not like she would have disappeared into the center of the Earth. Probably no more than six or seven feet at most and plenty easy enough to climb out. True, she would have emerged looking like some kind of mud monster, but she’d come pretty close to that anyway.
Sitting in her favorite recliner with a hot cup of tea, she chuckled at her own silliness. Just a middle-aged woman out in the boonies, scared of taking a little spill.
Shaking her head, she reached for the TV remote and pressed the power button, only to be greeted with white noise on every station. She turned it off again, frustrated but not particularly surprised. There was no cable out here and losing power was far from an unusual occurrence.
Lou looked up at Rebecca from his spot on an old braided rug by the fireplace, his brown eyes questioning.
“You look like you could use a bath too,” she told him. “Would have been nice if I’d thought to do it before you ran all over the house and—”
A tremendous crashing sound cut her off and caused the dog to leap to his feet, barking hysterically. The house shook; a framed photograph of her deceased husband, smiling in the long ago sunshine, tumbled from the mantle and shattered on the stone hearth.
Flinching, Rebecca’s first thought was that a bomb had exploded somewhere nearby, but a moment later she recognized the sound, though she’d never heard it amplified by what had to be times ten.
A falling tree.
But, no. Not this time. Not just one tree, but many, judging by the way the earth trembled beneath the force of God only knew how many tons of 100 foot pines. It had felt as though the house had been grasped by a great hand, lifted and then dropped again.
“What the…?”
Moving to the front bay window, she stared out at the tree line, searching for—she didn’t know what. A wave of falling trees? She shook her head, feeling ridiculous, and turned back to the dog.
“One tree knocked down another,” she muttered. “Nothing unusual about that.”
Lou barked again, evidently disagreeing with her.
“Dumb dog.”
Her eyes fell to the unopened bottle of champagne still on the mantle, the first real reminder she’d had all morning that today was New Year’s Day. Suddenly she forgot all about the rain, the dog, the sinkhole and the falling trees.
She went to the old,
Straightening up, she saw just how filthy she was and groaned inwardly. Lou continued to yap at her as she turned her attention back to the sinkhole and shivered. To the best of her knowledge it was the first time the earth had opened up anywhere on her property and she couldn’t help but wonder just how much of the land was hollow. The thought made her queasy; if the land was unfit to build on, selling it would be difficult, if not impossible, unless she was prepared to take a pittance.
She sighed at the prospect of having to get an appraiser to come out, but decided she’d wait until after the rainy season had ended. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
Glancing down at Lou, she said, “What do you say we get out of this rain, huh, boy?”
The dog wagged his bushy tail, happy despite looking like he’d been trudging up and down a muddy river. Rebecca imagined she looked even worse as they started back to the house, giving the sinkhole a wide berth.
There was a moment when the dog paused to stare at the hole, a low growl rumbling up from deep within his chest, but Rebecca called him on and he followed without hesitation.
Back inside, she toweled Lou off before running herself a steaming bath and scrubbing the mud and grime from her skin. Once clean, she felt a little better—less shaky from the close call with the sinkhole—and with every passing moment could see the absurdity in what had been sheer panic. Obviously, even if she’d fallen into the hole, it wouldn’t have been tragic. It’s not like she would have disappeared into the center of the Earth. Probably no more than six or seven feet at most and plenty easy enough to climb out. True, she would have emerged looking like some kind of mud monster, but she’d come pretty close to that anyway.
Sitting in her favorite recliner with a hot cup of tea, she chuckled at her own silliness. Just a middle-aged woman out in the boonies, scared of taking a little spill.
Shaking her head, she reached for the TV remote and pressed the power button, only to be greeted with white noise on every station. She turned it off again, frustrated but not particularly surprised. There was no cable out here and losing power was far from an unusual occurrence.
Lou looked up at Rebecca from his spot on an old braided rug by the fireplace, his brown eyes questioning.
“You look like you could use a bath too,” she told him. “Would have been nice if I’d thought to do it before you ran all over the house and—”
A tremendous crashing sound cut her off and caused the dog to leap to his feet, barking hysterically. The house shook; a framed photograph of her deceased husband, smiling in the long ago sunshine, tumbled from the mantle and shattered on the stone hearth.
Flinching, Rebecca’s first thought was that a bomb had exploded somewhere nearby, but a moment later she recognized the sound, though she’d never heard it amplified by what had to be times ten.
A falling tree.
But, no. Not this time. Not just one tree, but many, judging by the way the earth trembled beneath the force of God only knew how many tons of 100 foot pines. It had felt as though the house had been grasped by a great hand, lifted and then dropped again.
“What the…?”
Moving to the front bay window, she stared out at the tree line, searching for—she didn’t know what. A wave of falling trees? She shook her head, feeling ridiculous, and turned back to the dog.
“One tree knocked down another,” she muttered. “Nothing unusual about that.”
Lou barked again, evidently disagreeing with her.
“Dumb dog.”
Her eyes fell to the unopened bottle of champagne still on the mantle, the first real reminder she’d had all morning that today was New Year’s Day. Suddenly she forgot all about the rain, the dog, the sinkhole and the falling trees.
She went to the old,
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