What I do when I arrive from school is almost scheduled: I get home, I put my bike into its place in the garage, I come upstairs, and then I settle down and begin checking email, reading random things, and (finally) doing homework.

Yet one very special Thursday, I found that this was not what had happened on that fateful afternoon I set down my backpack, laid back into my chair, and pressed the power switch on my computer.

Because the thing was, up to that point, nothing had changed. I was expecting a normal day, another one with homework and schoolwork and at least one annoying chain mail message, and all that good stuff.

Instead, I got none of that. Because when I pressed the power switch on my computer, absolutely nothing happened.

I was thrown off at once, confused by what had happened. This had never in my life happened before. I looked at my state-of-the-art gaming computer, the one that all my friends coveted, decided there was no way this could happen, and pressed the power button again.

And once again, nothing happened.

—–

The next five minutes I spent in a frenzy, and with each action I completed I grew more and more panicked. I pressed the power button on my father’s computer, but it too did nothing. I picked up the phone, listening for that tell-tale dial tone. But there wasn’t a whisper.

In twenty minutes my dad arrived home. He came in the door with a cheerful smile on his face, one that I hadn’t seen for a while since he had been bogged down by work. Seeing all those wrinkles nearly smooth on his face, I ran down and gave him a hug.

As he patted me and asked me about my day, it seemed almost cruel to deliver the sorry news. But he was bound to find out anyway, and so with a deep breath, I told him that absolutely nothing was working.

He chuckled. “You’re funny,” he said, and poked me in the rib.

—–

“I didn’t think you were serious,” he said in despair as he picked up the phone once again, listening vainly for a sound, any sound. “I didn’t,” he repeated.

We sat down in the middle of the room, looking at our work room in such chaos, with nothing working. Even the light switch, normally a off-low-hi switch, had changed itself into a off-hi switch, dropping the low.

What had happened? I thought furiously to myself. What had we done to deserve this? I felt anger building up inside of me and for a moment I wanted to simply pick up all the computers, screen and all, and throw them out of the window. I wanted to rip out the light switch that was stuck on hi and smash it to the ground.

My dad sighed, taking deep breaths, and I thought that perhaps the same emotions were going through his head. The wrinkles were back, his lips were pursed, and he was blinking very slowly, as if contemplating something.

Thousands of dollars, I thought. Thousands! This was going to take ages to replace, mounds of money to pay for. What had happened?

I thought back. In the morning I didn’t even touch the computers. I rode my bike to school–wait, no I didn’t. There had been a thunderstorm so I had carpooled. Suddenly everything clicked, and I groaned. A thunderstorm? It wasn’t even a thunderstorm. It was a wet cloud, not a thunderstorm!

I voiced my opinion. “I think a wet cloud destroyed everything.”

Then my dad stood up. “Nothing we can do,” he said, looking at me. “Let’s go have a glass of water.”

—–

I sipped on my mineral water. It tasted horrible, as if someone had dumped grass clippings into it.

“Well.” My dad said without emotion. “Everything, it seems, is broken.”

“True,” I answered, and took a deep breath.

Suddenly he grabbed my shoulder. “Nothing you can do about it,” he said, pursing his lips. “We’re just going to have to take this one step at a time.”

“True,” I answered, and I finished my water.

My dad grabbed me over and hugged me. Then, with a weak smile, he told me, “Well, at least Mom is on a business trip. I’d hate to see the situation we’d be in. What do you mean, nothing’s working?” he mimicked my mom.

“True,” I answered, and then giggled.

“You have a girly giggle,” my dad observed.

I stopped giggling.