Puddles
Maggie loved to splash around in puddles. And not just little puddles of water, mind you, but also the small pond that floated in the middle of the sidewalk.
Each weekend morning that it rained, she would wake up excited, run downstairs for breakfast, where while her mom would get her yellow raincoat and galoshes from the closet and her dad would ready a big hug for her at the front door—after she finished her eggs, toast, and orange juice, of course. Maggie would then go out and splash around in the pools of sometimes-chilly, sometimes-tepid rainwater for as long as the weather and her stamina would allow, and then slosh her way home, where dad would have a big smile and another big hug for her and her mom would have a steaming cup of hot chocolate ready in the kitchen.
This particular morning, Maggie was really excited. The rain was heavy. Not in a hurricane-heavy sort of way, but in a lazy, sloppy rainstorm sort of way. There was barely any wind, and the water droplets were huge, heavy, thick, and made crashing sounds when they hit the sidewalk. They cannonballed into the ever-growing lakes of water everywhere, splashing all of the little droplets of water that were hanging out on the edge of each pool. This was her favorite kind of rainstorm—heavy, warm, and comfortable, and they made for the biggest and best puddles to splash around in.
She jumped in a few, and was starting to get properly wet. Smiling from ear to ear, and starting to feel hungry and ready for some lunch, Maggie spotted the grand prize of puddles. It was too big for the sidewalk and spilled into her family’s front lawn. The heavy droplets fell from the sky and smashed into the lake of water like meteors hitting the surface of a distant planet, throwing flotsam in the air. It called to Maggie, and she answered.
The heavy droplets fell from the sky and smashed into the lake of water like meteors hitting the surface of a distant planet, throwing flotsam in the air. It called to Maggie, and she answered.
Grinning, and lightly quaking in anticipation, she jumped in the air and drove down with both feet. But her feet found no ground. They went through the water, then her knees, then waist. Her eyes were still open when her head went under the water, and she saw what looked like an endless cavern. She couldn’t see any end to the water, and above her where the puddle should have been it was all black. No way out.
Then in front of her and above, Maggie saw that it was lighter. She swam to the light area, and up through it. She reached and felt the sidewalk, and pulled herself up onto the ground in front of her house. The sky seemed more gray, the rain more menacing, and she was crying and frustrated.
Maggie ran to her front door, trying to stop from crying but the involuntary blubbering squeaked and tumbled out. She needed a hug from her dad, the hot chocolate from her mom. But when she went inside, there was none. Her mother yelled at her, calling her Margaret, for having gotten soaked and ordered her upstairs to change. Her father spanked her when she questioned why her mother was being so mean to her. After taking a hot bath and changing, and going without dinner for having disobeyed earlier, she cried in bed, confused and frustrated, until she finally fell asleep.
Her mother and father told her that they didn’t want her splashing in puddles. In fact, they told her that they never had said she was allowed to. Repeatedly. They didn’t hug her anymore, or give her hot chocolate anymore, or wait at the door for a goodbye kiss before she went to school. They yelled, and they spanked when she didn’t answer their yells quickly enough.
At school, things were now just as bad. She discovered she was failing every class, when she knew she had been getting straight As. Her answers to all of the questions, which used to be correct, were now wrong. Other kids laughed at her, the teachers shook their heads and kept her late after class, punishing her whenever she dared to suggest that the answers she knew to be correct should be acceptable.
Occasionally, on the way home from school, or after walking out of her house, she would see a puddle, and jump in it. Looking at her wet feet, she would fight back the tears.
As the years went on, she managed to get some of the answers right, and to do enough acceptable things at home so that she didn’t get spanked as much. She was able to graduate from school, but didn’t have the grades to go to a good college, and her parents refused to pay for it anyway. She found a boy who seemed to love her, but after two children he left one day and never came back. Decades of miserable jobs provided enough for her kids to have clothes and food, although they never had as much as the other families in town. Her son resented her for not giving them more. He left at 18 and never came back. Her daughter stuck around, but only out of a sense of responsibility. Maggie was never sure if her daughter really loved her.
Occasionally, on the way home from school, or after walking out of her house, she would see a puddle, and jump in it. Looking at her wet feet, she would fight back the tears.
Maggie saw her daughter’s children sometimes, but she could never get the kids to go out in the rain with her. Her daughter would chastise them, saying that they would catch a cold, although she never reprimanded Maggie. Maybe her daughter secretly hoped that she would catch a cold.
So that’s where Maggie found herself, over that Easter holiday. Her daughter’s family was inside, cleaning up after dinner, and she was outside, walking around in the rain. After all these years, she still jumped in puddles when she saw them. After all these years, she often forgot why she did so. But she still did.
Hi reader! This has been a finished short story, intended to be a completely fleshed out tale, unlike my One-Pagers, which explore a single idea, scene, or thought. Read more of my longer, more complete short stories here.