"The Storm"
Directions: Read the story. Then answer the questions below.
“Crack-crack…kowowww! Thunder, and a shock of lightening etched its reflection
upon the corrugated metal siding,” Rowan read aloud.
She worked to read clearly, with depth and emotion. Her eyes scanned the page to the next paragraph. She took a breath to continue, but was interrupted by her younger brother Nolan, stretched out on the living room couch, flicking a pencil against his forehead.
“I was never a big fan of onomatopoeia,” Nolan said, in his usual, supercilious, manner. “It is impossible to write words that truly sound like a thunderstorm, a jar opening or a falling tree, yes? But, do continue.”
Rowan sucked her teeth. “That’s why I can’t stand doing this in front of you, Nolli. You are no help at all. Haven’t you something better to do?”
“Ha! Better than to annoy you before your moment of reckoning? I don’t think so.” Rowan’s enjoyment of getting under his big sister’s skin was fully conspicuous.
“Nolli, please keep quiet!” Mother broke in. “ This is important. Rowan presents in less than an hour. She needs to focus. Row, sweetheart, please continue.”
Mother’s comments seemed to assuage Rowan’s irritation. She cleared her throat and continued where she had left off. “Farmer John knew this was a storm of epic proportion. Even the cows retreated to their hutches. Not one person in the…”
“The cows retreated? The cows retreated?” Nolan chortled upon hearing the repetition of this line in his own voice. “That’s great. Even the stupid cows retreated! Oh, man. That must have been one heck of a storm-a-brewin’. Mama, I’m scared!” Nolan howled at the ceiling and curled up into a tight little ball of laughter.
“Nolli!” Mother Ann turned and shouted. The loudness of her voice was tantamount to the rumbling storm Rowan was trying to capture in her reading.
Mother began laying into the boy, castigating him most thoroughly about his rudeness and lack of respect for Rowan’s preparations. After her outburst, Mother sighed rather contentedly; she felt as though she had achieved the intended effect. Sometimes she even surprised herself at the fury by which, if completely necessary, she could quell any quarrel.
Nolan had fallen silent. He actually appeared remorseful.
“Oh, Mother.” Rowan sighed, crumpling to the floor, despondent . “It’s no use. “ ‘The Storm’ shall be the end of me”
“Ahh, but Rowan, my dear,” Mother rejoined, “this is but a mere shower!”
She worked to read clearly, with depth and emotion. Her eyes scanned the page to the next paragraph. She took a breath to continue, but was interrupted by her younger brother Nolan, stretched out on the living room couch, flicking a pencil against his forehead.
“I was never a big fan of onomatopoeia,” Nolan said, in his usual, supercilious, manner. “It is impossible to write words that truly sound like a thunderstorm, a jar opening or a falling tree, yes? But, do continue.”
Rowan sucked her teeth. “That’s why I can’t stand doing this in front of you, Nolli. You are no help at all. Haven’t you something better to do?”
“Ha! Better than to annoy you before your moment of reckoning? I don’t think so.” Rowan’s enjoyment of getting under his big sister’s skin was fully conspicuous.
“Nolli, please keep quiet!” Mother broke in. “ This is important. Rowan presents in less than an hour. She needs to focus. Row, sweetheart, please continue.”
Mother’s comments seemed to assuage Rowan’s irritation. She cleared her throat and continued where she had left off. “Farmer John knew this was a storm of epic proportion. Even the cows retreated to their hutches. Not one person in the…”
“The cows retreated? The cows retreated?” Nolan chortled upon hearing the repetition of this line in his own voice. “That’s great. Even the stupid cows retreated! Oh, man. That must have been one heck of a storm-a-brewin’. Mama, I’m scared!” Nolan howled at the ceiling and curled up into a tight little ball of laughter.
“Nolli!” Mother Ann turned and shouted. The loudness of her voice was tantamount to the rumbling storm Rowan was trying to capture in her reading.
Mother began laying into the boy, castigating him most thoroughly about his rudeness and lack of respect for Rowan’s preparations. After her outburst, Mother sighed rather contentedly; she felt as though she had achieved the intended effect. Sometimes she even surprised herself at the fury by which, if completely necessary, she could quell any quarrel.
Nolan had fallen silent. He actually appeared remorseful.
“Oh, Mother.” Rowan sighed, crumpling to the floor, despondent . “It’s no use. “ ‘The Storm’ shall be the end of me”
“Ahh, but Rowan, my dear,” Mother rejoined, “this is but a mere shower!”