The Secret of Loblolly Creek

Chapter Four

Ball lightning. 

That was what Don had called it.  As soon as they’d arrived home last Friday night, Dylan had gone to the Internet and looked up the term.  What he found online would bring him great relief.  And, over the week to follow, he would return to this reassuring information again and again.

In fact, today—Saturday morning—that was what he was doing:  seated at his computer, reading his umpteenth article on the subject, Dylan almost couldn’t get enough.

There were various explanations for the phenomenon known as ball lightning, none of which the boy really understood.  Over the last week he’d read a great deal about plasma, nitrites, silicon particles, electromagnetic fields, and other scientific miscellany.   If anything, he had come away from his research even more confused.  But that was all right.  What really counted was his overall impression:  that he and his family had not been the first to witness such a thing, and sightings of this kind, while uncommon, were at least documented.  Furthermore, even though Dylan could not find an account that matched exactly with what they had seen, he took comfort in knowing there were plenty of hypotheses—all grounded in the physical world—available to explain it. 

Of course, there were also plenty of superstitions associated with ball lightning.   Periodically it was identified with ghosts, omens, spells, curses, and other assorted hocus-pocus.   But Dylan paid this material no mind.  What need was there to resort to talk of magic and spooks and other fantastical nonsense when he had physics and chemistry on his side? 

Granted, Dylan’s neat, orderly universe had been disturbed by the last Friday’s strange event.  But now, thanks to a little studying, that universe seemed almost normal again.  And he would take normal over abnormal any day of the week.

In a way, he was even grateful for the incident.  Dylan credited it with having prevented eating out as a family from becoming a weekly ordeal.  Don had made no objection when Sally suggested that they stay home last night and grill hot dogs instead.

Dylan was almost finished with his article when Sally knocked on his bedroom door.  “Come in,” he said, taking in the last couple of sentences.

Sally poked her head inside.  “Hey, Dylan, would you mind sweeping the garage today?”  It really wasn’t a request, but Sally often phrased her orders gently.

“Yeah, but could I do it later?”

“How much later?” his mother asked.

“I don’t know.  Maybe five?”

“I guess.  Why so late, though?”

“Because Scott’s coming over, remember?”  Scott Williams was Dylan’s classmate and best friend.  Dylan had told his mother yesterday afternoon that they would be hanging out together today.

“Oh, that’s right.  I had forgotten.” Sally paused.  “So, what do you think you boys will be doing today?”

“I don’t know.  Whatever we feel like, I guess.”

“And that’s exactly what you should do on a weekend,” she agreed.  “But I’d like you to give me some idea of where you’ll be.”

“I don’t know,” Dylan said, shutting down his computer.  “We didn’t really have anything planned.”

“Will you be riding bikes?”

“Yeah, probably.  Why?”

“I need to know where I can find you if I need you.”

Dylan circled around in his swivel chair to face her.  “What would you need me for?”

“Well…we might have a medical emergency here.”