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Dust

Theresa's drive home from work was plagued by the heat and dryness of the two-year drought. Sweat dripped off her forehead stinging her eyes. Wiping her hand across her brow to stop the salty liquid, she wondered why they ever bought a house on a dirt road. Because it's only a half mile from town, thought Theresa, answering herself.

Suddenly a gust sprayed dust and debris onto her windshield. The car rocked as the winds picked up speed. Just a little farther, Theresa thought. She'd seen the house not far ahead before the dust storm blinded her path. She fought to steer to the right and searched for landmarks.

There was a bump as the car lurched slightly backward. She heard a scream as her front tires crept over a lumpy object. The back tires mounted and rolled off the obstacle. There was the awful noise of tearing and bumping underneath the vehicle before the car stopped at her command on the brake.

Theresa sat in shock, unable to move. She knew she'd run over a person. No animal made a terrorizing scream like that.

"Oh, dear God," she pleaded, as her head turned instinctively upward.

The car door was violently pushed back by the weight of the wind. Covering her nose and mouth with the front of her shirt, she fought her way out. One hand feeling along the car, she swept her foot back and forth to find what she couldn't see through the thick, dusty air.

Then - her foot nudged something soft. She reached her hand down and felt a still body of something about two feet long. She felt cloth, skinOh my God, not Alana, please not Alana, she prayed as panic quickly flooded her body and mind.

"Help!" she screamed. "Please, help!"

There was no response. She heard nothing but the wind and dirt battering against the car. Tears fell but turned to dried mud before reaching her chin.

The bang of wood against wood jerked her to attention. Theresa realized that it was the squeaky sound of a screen door. We have to get inside, she thought lifting the limp bundle into her arms. Sticky ooze on the lower leg of the child alerted the young mother. Theresa crept toward the sound of the squeaking door flapping in the wind. The small burden in her arms didn't move. Oh dear God, she prayed silently. Help me find the door and get inside.

With her unencumbered arm she tried to feel what was ahead. Relief flooded her when she felt something hard. She moved her hand until her fingers found the knob. Opening the door, she entered the house. Slamming the door shut behind her to cut off the fury

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