DUST DEVILS

They had been watching them dance across the desert floor for a week now, but, in a heartbeat, this one took her memory back 58 years. “Pull over,” she told him, “I want a picture.”

Her mind’s memory had failed her over the years, but her body’s eye had retained the feel of this “little dust devil”.

She was 4, and it was a grand day. Mother had given her permission to take her baby brother outside to play.  She had been waiting for this day for such a long time. She was now officially “a big girl”. She was in charge. And she was o, so ready to prove she was trustworthy.

Out the door they went, her holding tightly to his chubby little hand as they headed toward the playground on the lot next door to their house. They were on a great adventure! Just the two of them!

Of course she took him straight to the merry-go-round. She had loved the merry-go-round forever it seemed! ‘Round and ‘round, faster and faster she’d spin, just for the thrill of it. But today was different. She was being careful with her charge.  She was gently walking the great wheel ‘round so that her little brother could enjoy the ride in safety. And he was having a frolicking good time.

Then she saw it—dancing its way menacingly toward them, until it engulfed them.  She held tightly to his hand as the sand stung her eyes shut, and pummeled her face, clogging her nostrils until she thought she’d die from suffocation.

Then she made a choice; she chose to let go of his hand. She chose her safety over his, and ran as fast as her chubby little legs could carry, and she hid.

It was all over in just a few seconds, and her mother was there with little brother safely in her arms.  But that little dust devil never really left her.  She had felt its power for years now, its swirling winds in the pit of her stomach, its suffocating affect as she tried to breathe.  And it continued to cause its rush of panic, making her forever want to run, and filling her body with shame and the knowing she couldn’t be trusted to “stay”.