When the Lights Go Out

 by Max Elliot Anderson –

To the memory of 9/11,
and the people who lost their lives that day,
so we never forget.

Chapter 1

The one thing that Peyton Aldrich hated most, besides being home alone, was being home alone during a thunderstorm. And this was one of those nights. He’d watched the night sky for the past twenty minutes, or so, and it was clear that this storm was headed right for his house. It had gotten so dark out that he turned on every light in his room. He made sure the three-way lights were all turned on high, and he cranked his radio up loud so he could listen for any weather bulletins.

Then, from out of nowhere, a nuclear sized lightning blast lit up the entire sky around the military base where he lived. It went off like a giant camera flash, followed by total darkness.

“Great,” Peyton sighed. “The power’s out, and me here all by myself.” He inched himself out of his room and began to feel his way down the hall. That was when he was sure he heard someone rummaging around in the kitchen. His heart began pounding almost as loud as the thunder that shook his small house.

My parents are both gone, he thought. Now what am I supposed to do? Still, he continued down the hallway. Each new flash of lightning gave off enough light for him to see his next few steps. Finally, he stopped at the edge of the doorway into the kitchen. Another burst of light revealed a broom leaning against the wall. His trembling hand reached out for it as the stranger in the kitchen dropped something to the floor. That sound nearly caused him to drop the broom, but he managed to grab it again, with both hands this time. He raised it up, placed it in front of him like a weapon, and positioned himself to turn the corner.

Just then, an eerie light burst from the room. Peyton decided it was now or never. He took an extra tight grip on the broom handle and prepared to make his move. As he stormed around the corner, he let out a blood-chilling cry, “Yaaahhh!”

He heard a scream, the light went out, and something hit the floor. But, the scream sounded a little bit like…

“Mom?” he called out as he skidded to a stop, just before crashing onto the kitchen table.

Someone gasped on the other side of the counter. “Is… is that you, Peyton?”

He dropped the broom and felt his way around the counter. Another lightning bolt revealed that his mother had fallen to the floor and now she was trying to catch her breath. He rushed to her and dropped to his knees. “You all right?”

In a low voice she answered, “Don’t you ever do something like that to me again.”

“To you? What about me?”

His mother sat up. “Well, I thought you might still be out with friends or something. I had no idea you were in the house.”

He laughed. “You coulda called out my name. You know, something like, ‘Peyton I’m home,’ just in case.”

“I’ll try to remember that next time. Now help me up.”

Peyton took his mother by the arm and they stood up together. His bare foot bumped against something so he reached down, brought it up, and set it on the counter.

“Here’s your candle, Mom.”

“Thank you. Now, if I can just find the matches.”

Peyton laughed again. “Feels like hundreds of them under my feet.” He dropped to the floor again, and felt around until he found a few wooden matches and the box. During another lightning round, he handed everything to his mother.

She struck one of the matches, re-lit the candle, and took a deep breath as candlelight again filled the room.

“There, that’s much better. I always like light more than the darkness.”

“Me too,” Peyton answered.

Just then they heard a loud sound at the back door.

“I hope that’s just the wind,” Peyton said as his voice quivered slightly.

“Me too,” his mother said with a gulp.

Then a loud voice demanded, “What happened to the lights?”

Peyton let out a breath he’d been holding in his tight chest. “Dad?”

“Who else?”

“Boy am I ever glad to see… I mean hear you.”

A large man entered the kitchen, dressed in his camouflage, army fatigues. His big, black, leather boots pounded like drums as he walked across the floor.

“The power’s out,” Peyton’s mother said.

“I know. I saw that when the garage door didn’t open.”

“Yeah, Dad, and I was here when it hit.”

“When what hit?”

“Lightning.”

“It hit the house?”

“No, I just mean that everything went dark after about the biggest lighting and thunder, I’ve ever seen or heard, went off. If it hit the house, I probably wouldn’t be here anymore.”

His father chuckled, “Or the house.” He turned to his wife, “What’s for dinner?”

“Well, we were going to have a nice, hot meal tonight, but now, with the power out, I guess we’ll have to go to Plan B.”

“That’s what I like about a military family. We’ve always got a Plan B.” Peyton said.

Later, the family sat around the table and ate sandwiches by candlelight. Peyton’s younger sister, Kelley, had come home from visiting a friend.

“Their power went out, too,” she said. “So they brought me home early.”

“Man,” Peyton said. “Things were pretty scary around here when it happened.”

She turned to him. “You were here alone?”

Peyton looked to his mother and smiled. The look she shot back clearly said, Don’t you dare tell anyone what happened. He turned back to Kelley. “Not exactly alone.”

His sister studied him for a moment. “At least I was with the Mitchells.”

Peyton’s father got up from the table and walked over to the sink. Everyone heard a crunching sound under his feet. “Hey,” he asked as he leaned down and picked something up.

“What are matches doing all over the floor?”

Again his mother stared right through Peyton and shook her head. Then she said, “I dropped them when I was lighting the candle.”

Peyton shuddered. “Man, I really hate it when the lights go out!”

 Question Time:

1. Why did Peyton run into the kitchen with a broom?

2. Why was the power out in Peyton’s home?

3. Since they couldn’t make a hot meal with the power out, what did Peyton’s family eat instead?