Dust by Dusti Bowling PDF EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Dusti Bowling
- Language: English
- Genre: Children’s Asia Book
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Portentous.
P-O-R-T-E-N-T-O-U-S.
Portentous.
On Saturday morning at 9:32, all three of our phones screeched the warning
at the same time. I wasn’t allowed to have my phone at the kitchen table, so
it was shrieking on the counter nearby. Mom and Dad picked theirs up
because they were apparently allowed to have phones at the kitchen table.
Parents could be hypocritical like that. Or as Dad would say, As supreme
ruler of the universe, I’m allowed to do what I want.
Mom dropped her forkful of buckwheat pancake, her face filled with
both surprise and confusion. “Dust storm?”
“In Phoenix?” I asked.
Dad slowly shook his head, studying his own phone, his eyebrows
drawn together. “It says Clear Canyon City.”
The three of us all looked at one another before jumping out of our
chairs and hurrying to the kitchen window, hands and noses pressed against
the glass, searching for the dust. The air was growing hazy, which was sort
of strange for this time of year. It definitely got a little dusty around here
every now and then, especially when the big monsoon storms hit, but this
time of year was usually nice and clear.
I turned to Dad, who had his lips pursed and eyes squinted. Individual
strands of his gray-speckled brown hair were beginning to rise and stand up.
Lifting my hand from the glass, I pointed at his head. “Whoa. Your hair.”
Then I saw that Mom’s longer blond strands were starting to hover as well.
I touched a finger to her bare freckled arm, and a spark of electricity
shocked both of us. I yelped and snatched my hand away.
“Ouch!” She rubbed her arm and shot me an accusing look, as though
I’d deliberately attacked her with electrical powers. Then Dad reached over
and touched my arm, zapping me again, and we all burst into a sort of
nervous laughter.
“What in the world?” Mom said as she and Dad rushed out the front
door to see what else they could see. “Avalyn, get your butt back in that
house,” Mom ordered when she saw me following them. Yeah, she could be
pretty bossy. If Dad was the supreme ruler, then she was the supremer ruler.
I probably should’ve listened, though. To say that dust was hard on my
lungs would be an understatement. It didn’t help that we’d had almost no
rain in a year. The desert dirt had become as fine and dry as the powdered
sugar sprinkled over my buckwheat pancakes that morning.
The three of us stood side by side in our front yard, mouths open, gaping
at the wall of light brown. It was like a gigantic, muddy, frothy wave
crashing toward us in slow motion. Mom reached into her pocket and pulled
out the inhaler she always carried, even when I wasn’t with her. I guess it
probably made her feel better—like as long as she carried it, I would always
be safe no matter what. Dad carried one, too.
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