I didn't fail to reveal my displeasure at why my parents let me sleep alone with my elder brother in a separate room from theirs. It's been three years since my father sat me down at the age of five, telling me how fast I was growing and that he needed me to share the room with my older brother, Kelvin, who was three years older than me.
No, Mummy, I don't want to sleep in Kevin's room; let me sleep in your room." I fought back in tears as my mom tried all means to pacify me, and my dad just ignored the ocean of tears that freely flowed down my cheeks, partly interrupted by mucus out of my nostrils.
"Can he sleep with us at least tonight?" Mom stroked my dad's hair in an attempt to cajole him, but my dad's decision was final; he wanted me out of the room for reasons I didn't agree with.
"He'll be fine, darling; he can't stay here forever. He has to move someday, and that day is today!" My dad replied in a calm but firm tone.
That was how I shared the room with my brother, and now I had gotten used to letting them have their moment as a couple. Kelvin had gotten admission into Darwin's High School, which was miles away from town; it was a journey of five hours by road. Many thoughts had ravaged my mind, especially the thoughts of having to spend days, weeks, or even months alone in the room. "I'll get used to it just like time past," I thought, in an attempt to reassure my already scared mind.
My mom was kind enough to check up on me just before I slept, even though dad bade his good night right after supper. In a way, I was a bit excited that I was going to have all the room to myself, even though I suspected that territoriality would be threatened sooner or later as my mom had her tummy protruded and was told another Williams would soon be joining the family. For now, the constant power supply we enjoyed in the house was a welcomed companion for me, despite having to switch off the lights at bedtime.
My parents had little to worry about me after Kelvin left for school, as I had begun to do some house chores and, in a way, look after myself. One day in particular, I overheard my dad praising me while discussing with mom; he was proud of how well I applied myself at home and in school (I was in primary school and topping my class).
My dad, being an engineer, had asked me what I wanted to become in the future, and I had excitedly told him, Engineer," just like him, for I had marveled at pictures of his work constructions. I was happy to see his smile, which he rarely gave me. This very day, dad traveled for a contract assignment, as was his custom, leaving only mom and me at home.
This was the moment I wished I could crawl up under her arms, just like when I was five. Mom had a business she managed, and sometimes she would come in late; however, she tried to come earlier to compensate for Dad and Kevin's absences from the house.
The sky had begun to mumble, dishing out occasional threats that made my stomach rumble. Soon enough, the rain began to fall heavily, beating hard on our roof, which caused the power supply to cease abruptly. Unusual darkness ensued, pierced only by the heavy thud of the downpour. This was the first time I could remember experiencing a total blackout from the heavy downpour.
At that moment, I gripped my pillow hard, my fingers digging into the pillow, fear creeping all over my skin and causing a heightened sensitivity to every sound and figure. I heard some noise outside my room, and I suspected my mother was out closing the windows. Only then, without a forewarning, did a spark of shining bright light strike from the sky, illuminating the room for a few seconds, which was almost accompanied by a thunderous blast of noise. My heart beat became erratic, and without a second thought, my dash out of my room was as brisk as it was swift, defeating the thick darkness that overwhelmed the room again. My mom's arms were quick to envelope me in an understanding hug as she held a torch in her other hand, giving me a gentle pat on the back, which eased my tension.
"You're safe, darling; it's just lightning. Come with me". She said this, leading me to her room. My tears waned as I gladly held onto her arm, walking into her room. She sat me on her lap, caressed my hair, and wiped the remaining streaks of tears that hung on my eyelids. "You've never experienced such lightning, right?" She asked while I gave her an affirmative nod. "Well, lightning is part of nature, and it comes about during rainfalls when there is a distortion or imbalance between positive and negative charges in the cloud. The air, which acts as an insulator, gets broken down when these opposite charges build up, bringing about the discharge of electricity in the form of lightning.
And guess what?" She smiled at me.
"What mom?" I asked inquisitively as my mind began to ease out of fear.
"The study of lightning is called fulminology, and the scientist that studies lightning is a Fulminologist. Would you like to be one someday?" She asked, giving me a tickle, which caused me to react with a giggle.
I loved the mystery of lightning, but I felt more relaxed after my mom explained it to me. My fear was spontaneous and reactionary, but with my mother's comforting explanation, I began to rethink my engineering career and curiously looked forward to becoming a fulminologist someday.