A short story by Phoebe
Thunder and lightning. Heavy rain.
I shouldn’t have rolled outside into the rain, but looking back on this day, I’m grateful.
My name is Abigail. I use a wheelchair. I’ve been lonely for a while, longing for a friend, but all of that is about to change.
Lightning struck somewhere in the distance, far away from my house.
The loud sound snapped me out of my thoughts.
I was crying, but my face was also wet from the rain—the rain that had soaked my clothes and hair.
I was staring down at a cat lying dead on the ground. Some animal had wounded it.
Some people might think that the animal was still out there and could come after me, the helpless girl in the wheelchair.
Here’s something you should know:
I am not helpless.
Just because I can’t stand up and chase after you doesn’t mean I can’t catch you before you call for help. Wheels are much faster than legs.
Look at cars.
“Abigail!” Mom shouted from the porch.
“Mom!” I yelled back. “Mom! Come look!”
Mom didn’t seem to hear me. She waved her hand, signalling for me to come back inside.
“Abby! Come back inside!”
I made the same hand motion, telling her to come to me.
Now we both looked ridiculous.
Dad stepped onto the porch, shook his head at Mom, and ran into the rain to get me.
Dad is strong.
He has picked up both me and my wheelchair before. It’s crazy. He carries me like I’m a baby, although I’m almost thirteen.
I rolled my chair around so I was facing away from Dad.
“Abby, let’s go,” Dad said between breaths, pointing back toward the porch, where Mom was waving frantically at us.
Dad is tall, so he looked down at me with his hands on his hips.
“Abby!” he yelled, his voice seeming even louder than the thunder.
“Look!” I pointed at the dead cat.
Dad looked down.
Then at me.
Dead cat.
Daughter.
Dead cat.
Daughter.
Like he couldn’t decide which one deserved a beating.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked.
Even standing in the pouring rain, he somehow looked majestic.
I shrugged.
“Alright, we’re going,” Dad said, reaching for me.
“Daddddd!” I complained, pushing my wheelchair farther away.
“Theo!” Mom shrieked as she came running toward us.
The frantic waving hadn’t been for us after all.
Theo is my father’s name.
I turned around.
A beam of light was coming down toward the earth.
It looked slow and fast at once.
It struck the ground and blinded everything.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
When I opened them again, the rain was subsiding.
The thunder and lightning had stopped.
The dead cat was gone.
And in front of my entire family lay a black cat.
Not just any black cat.
This one had a white lightning bolt on its forehead, as though it were part of its fur.
Dad stood frozen, shock in his eyes.
Mom had shock written all over her face.
I stared at the cat.
The cat stared back at me.
It meowed.
Then—
Hello?
I screamed.
A sweet voice had suddenly rung through my mind.
Definitely not my voice.
Definitely not something I had imagined.
I had never heard that voice before.
“Abigail?” my parents said at the same time, staring at me.
I didn’t even know why I had screamed.
“It spoke,” I said, pointing at the cat.
My mother continued staring at the strange animal, one hand covering her mouth and the other gripping Dad’s shoulder to steady herself.
Dad cleared his throat.
“Abby, let’s go inside.”
“But it isn’t raining anymore,” I argued.
“No, it—”
Dad looked around.
I was right.
The rain had completely stopped.
HELLO!
This time, everyone jumped and looked at the cat.
Everyone had heard that.
Finally.
The voice was inside our heads, but it definitely belonged to the cat.
The cat actually looked annoyed.
Then she rolled her eyes.
I would like to know your names, for I am your new friend and guardian.
Friend?
That was a strange word for me.
I didn’t have many friends and had always struggled to make them.
Even before the wheelchair.
“Why can’t we hear you, like, actually talk?” Mom asked.
“Because cats don’t talk, Matilda,” Dad said.
“But this one does!”
“Babe—”
My parents continued bickering as the cat spoke again.
But this time, only to me.
Your parents annoy me. And I am not a cat.
“Then what are you?” I asked. “And can I talk to you in my mind?”
I can already read your mind. My name is Thunder. I believe you are Gail, and your mother is Matilda?
“Well, yeah, and my dad is Theo, but my name is—”
“See, Theo!” Mom yelled. “It talks, and it’s talking to our daughter!”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was a dream,” Dad said, rubbing his head.
All of this is real.
Mom and Dad jumped again.
I was getting used to it.
Call me by my name. Thunder. I know all of your names now. Take me to your home. I am very hungry, and you should be grateful that I stopped the rain for you.
I rolled my chair toward Thunder and picked her up, placing her on my lap.
She.
“What?”
I am a she. Not an it.
I laughed.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
My parents followed us inside, still completely confused.
Once we were home, I took out some leftover food, warmed it in the microwave, and placed it in front of Thunder.
“Not sure what a cat-looking animal that isn’t actually a cat eats, but this is what we have.”
Thank you. You are very kind.
That was how my life began to change.
Thunder stayed by my side and helped me with so many things. She never made me feel bad about myself. She helped my family too, especially when my parents were struggling with what Dad called “the difficulties of adult life,” something he said I would have to wait until I was older to understand.
Thunder kept calling me Gail instead of Abigail because, according to her, it was easier to remember.
But the most important thing Thunder did was help me make friends.
GO!
Thunder yelled inside my head one afternoon when she came to meet me after school.
“I’m too scared,” I whispered. “What if I mess up and they think I’m weird? What if they already think I’m weird?”
Dear Lord.
Thunder looked up at the sky and then stared straight at me.
You are perfectly capable of making friends, and those girls are a lot like you.
“I know, but…”
But what? You are scared of nothing. You think too much. Just do it.
I sighed and rolled toward the girls.
“Um…hello?”
They all stared at me.
Then I noticed that one of them had a prosthetic leg.
“What happened to you?”
We both said it at the same time.
We stared at each other.
Then we burst out laughing.
The other girls laughed too.
“I fell during a hiking trip with my dad,” the girl said. “My leg got infected.”
“I fell too. I was paralyzed from my stomach down.”
“So you can’t feel the food in your tummy?” one of the other girls asked.
“Sofia!” the girl with the prosthetic leg shouted, smacking Sofia lightly.
We all started laughing again.
A few days later, I started having the girls over.
The girl with the prosthetic leg was Amber.
The other girl was Frankie.
And then there was Sofia, the one who asked way too many questions and who we joked would make a brilliant interrogator someday.
Even as everything got better, I began to feel that while I was gaining so much, I was losing something very important.
Thunder.
Here’s something else you should know.
I am not friendless.
People used to look at me—the girl in the wheelchair sitting all alone—and pity me.
I pity them for thinking they needed to.
Now, I was looking at Thunder.
The black cat with the white lightning bolt on her forehead.
She stood on all fours.
Not dead.
Very much alive.
I realized I was crying.
Rain mixed with my tears, soaking my face, hair, and clothes.
Don’t cry.
A loud sound snapped me out of my thoughts.
Lightning struck somewhere in the distance, far away from our house.
Our home.
My name is Abigail.
I use a wheelchair.
I had been lonely for a long time.
But that all changed when Thunder entered my life.
I shouldn’t have rolled outside into the rain that day, but whenever I reminisce on the fact that I did, I am grateful.
I will miss you.
“Me too,” I whispered. “Thank you for everything.”
I love you. I hope you have fun with your friends.
“I will. I love you too.”
A huge beam of light appeared.
I squeezed my eyes shut against its brightness.
When I was sure it was gone, I forced my eyes open and looked at the space where Thunder had once stood.
She was gone.
Thunder and lightning.
Heavy rain.