The Sun

Saturday, May 21, 2005

It was yet another sunny morning out in Saint Peters, and Collette figured that for a rare once, it might be helpful to elicit the sun’s rays. After all, there was supposed to be a hot dog roast and bonfire, volleyball and such that evening. The birds were all in a flutter over the bouncing happy ball in the skies. Even the faithful dove above the rafters cooed softly to it the evening before. Besides, who cared if the sun was out anyway – Collette was transported back in time to the golden age of Rome with the music of Ben-Hur, where the sun always shone. So Collette figured, all in all, that the sun would not cause much harm that day.

It was a good deal like another day two years ago or so, when Grandma Combs had taken them all to a park in Illinois. Great old trees grew there by a mansion built long ago. It had been leaning toward autumn and the grounds were covered with orange leaves. In the tree trunk of one giant, pennies had been wedged into the bark, likely by some juveniles with nothing better to do. And there was a doll house by the mansion, which had been once a playhouse for the owner’s daughter. There was something sinister about that doll house, and OLeif and Carrie tried to open the storm cellar to see if a body was buried inside. Collette, however, convinced them to leave it alone. Afterward, as the afternoon sun washed over the river town, they dropped by an old bakery for cream puffs. It had been a good day, sun and all. Collette never could completely figure out her aversion to the sun, apparently.