Thunder Drum Night

Emma heard the thunder rumble outside her window, so she sat up in bed and reached for her flashlight.

"Who is banging on the sky?" she whispered.

Emma wanted to sleep. She was tired, and her bed was warm. But every time the thunder knocked, the window shook, and her eyes popped open again.

She tiptoed to the window. Rain ran down the glass in long, wiggly lines. Far away, the night sky flashed white.

"Quiet, please!" Emma said.

Boom, said the sky.

So she tried something else. She put her pillow over her head. Boom. It was still loud. She hugged her teddy bear tight. Boom. He was loud too.

Then Emma noticed something. The flash came first. Then she counted, one, two, three, and then came the boom. Every time.

"It's a drum," she said. "A big night drum. And somebody is playing it slowly."

Emma had a drum of her own, a little red one under her bed. She pulled it out and waited with her sticks up.

Flash. One, two, three. Boom, said the sky.

Tap, tap, tap, said Emma's drum.

"We're playing together!" she whispered.

Flash. One, two, three. Boom. Tap, tap, tap.

Then the sky did something silly. It went boom-boom-boom, very fast, like a giant sneezing. Emma giggled, and her sticks went tap-tap-tap-tap to keep up. She nearly fell off the bed.

The rain grew softer. The flashes were farther away now. The booms came rolling, like a big ball bumping down a hill.

Boom, said the sky, low and slow.

Tap, said Emma, small and slow.

Boom.

Tap.

Her drum slid into her lap. Her eyes were closing. The rain went pitter-pat on the window, and the flashlight clicked off in her hand.