A Heat-Blasted Day

It was a hot summer day. And I mean scorching. It was the middle of July, on the hottest day of the year, and almost comically, the power failed.

"Why can't they just make giant batteries to power everything," Jim asked. He was my younger sibling, as you can probably tell. "It would at least keep the lights on for another year. That's how long the battery in my flashlight lasted."

"Yeah, because you only use it when the power goes out," I remarked. He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment.

"Oh."

My family of four was all outside, sitting under our porch. Ironically, it was hotter inside. The house insulation basically made it a giant-sized oven.

I glanced at the thermometer. It was 106 degrees Fahrenheit; four degrees hotter than it was an hour ago. I checked my watch. It was only 1 p.m.

"Ugh. When did they say the power would come back?" Jim asked.

"Two o'clock p.m.," answered Mom. Jim looked up, suddenly enlightened with hope. "Tomorrow." He dropped his forehead onto the table in front of him in clear grief.

"Ow," he mumbled, deflated.

"Those forecasts are never accurate. It'll probably be more like 6 o'clock when the power comes back," I stated.

"Not helping," Jim replied.

After that there was a two-minute-and-fifty-four-second pause. Yes, I was watching my watch.

"You know what," Dad started, standing up, "what's the point in sitting around all day? Let's go do something fun! How about we go look for a snowball stand?"

"There's a thirty-minute line at each stand. I don't think so," responded Mom.

"Well, let's... How about... What if we..." he gave up. "Huh, no wonder they're getting so many customers." He sat back down and rested his chin on his hand with his elbow on the arm of the chair. Jim held back a chuckle.

We ended up sleeping on the floor, where it was coolest, with all our blankets spread out. In the morning we played a few board games, and Dad ended up grilling some food on the barbeque (since it doesn't take electricity) for lunch. Jim used the fridge to cool himself off, but Dad fussed at him a lot because he let the heat get into the fridge with all the food. At least we got to enjoy some drinks while it lasted.

"Is the power back on?" asked Jim. It was around 3 o'clock p.m.

"I don't know. No. Maybe? Let me check," responded Dad. He got up from his seat, where he was reading a book, to test a light switch. It didn't work.

Jim gave him a disappointed stare.

"What did you expect?" Dad responded. "The toaster to spit out ice cubes?" Jim tried to hold back a smile but kept his stare.

"So that's what you want? A staring contest?" Dad sat down in front of Jim and stared back, with wide-open eyes and his hands on his hips.

Me and Mom watched as thirty seconds went by. Thirty-five, forty, forty-five, fifty, and Jim's gaze was broken as he blinked out his dry eyes.

"Wooh! You'll think twice next time before you challenge me, little munchkin." Dad patted Jim on the back as he stood up. "I've won the 1992 Junior Olympics Staring Contest Award, second place." He stretched his back and sat down in his chair once again. "Don't expect to see the trophy though. A raccoon swiped it while we were moving our boxes in. At least I think so; otherwise, we left it at our last home, it dropped out of the moving van, it was accidentally dropped in the garbage, or one of the sneaky movers were too tempted to take it for themselves. Now that I think of it, it could be anywhere. Maybe even in the president's own office." Me and Jim exchanged smirky glances. Mom gave Dad a look of slight warning.

And just like that, the power came back on. Although, we didn't know until a few hours later. Neither do we know when it actually turned on. Why? Because we were just having too much fun to notice. Also because the breakers were instantly flipped. Jim had tested if an ice cube could fit in the toaster.