Someday The Waves ✔ *Wattys15 Winner*

Chapter Fourteen

Secret heart

What are you made of,

What are you afraid of?

Secret Heart - Feist

. . .

Thursday morning, late August

Each morning the local TV weathermen reported from the comfort of their air-conditioned studios, how fast the mercury level was rising along the coast. They called it an unforeseen heat wave, even though we'd had weeks of sweltering, endlessly sunny days and little rain before it.

Many of us, Noah included hadn't paid much attention to the warnings of hosepipe bans and a long, dry end to the summer. Until of course we found ourselves in the throw of it, with the heat so intense, so energy sapping that most of the townsfolk was now shuttered up in their homes, hoping to find cool solace from the roasting outdoors.

In the weeks that followed the warnings, nothing stirred. Not even the birds in the heavy trees that seemed to hang their heads under the suns relentless attack. Not even people, it was too hot to even make the effort from the front porch to the sidewalks, as the light beat down like a furnace, no breeze to lighten its blazing breath.

Everything felt sluggish and stifling, and being indoors didn't help much.

Noah and the kid's weekly trips to the beach had been called off until the wave of heat subsided, a sensible decision after too many sun burnt cheeks and worrying symptoms of heatstroke. Even Max the dog, with his mad dashes into the sea couldn't weather through and so we all stayed huddled inside or in our backyards under the sprinklers we weren't supposed to have on.

My own cheeks had formed a rosy sheen, like flesh from an apple skin and my feet were raw from walking down the scorching porch steps each morning to take out the trash.

Most of my scheduled cleaning duties had been written off as the families stayed in and hid away from the heat wave or sympathised that moping and dusting in the heat wasn't much fun.

For the first time in months, I again felt dispair, stuck inside the bungalow without the freedom to leave and with the fear of burning up, or melting under the hot rays.

Every day I wished for rain to wash away the blistering heat but in the mornings my wishes still remained unanswered.

The news reporters had tried to assure us all that a cool front would come soon, to lift us out of the waves clutches but I wasn't so sure.

Maybe it would never end, I thought as I made my way towards the living room from another cold shower - my third in so many hours. Poppy was sprawled out on the couch, using a book as an additional fan even though all the windows were wide open, with the shades pulled down.

Even the industrial looking fans she'd snatched up from the store down by the boardwalk couldn't quite cut through the heat. Poppy had tied brightly coloured ribbons to the metal grates, as if that would somehow ease our suffering but of course they hadn't.

Resting my head against the cooling tiled breakfast counter, I wished for crystal blue waters to lap around my feet and swallow me whole. It seemed I wasn't the only one dreaming of diving into cold waters as Poppy kicked her bare feet against the couch, yelling out how she wished we had a pool.