The potatoes that I pulled weren't exactly ready to be uprooted, but they were all we had in the garden plot. The potatoes were green, hard, and bitter to taste. The onions were slightly riper, but our rainy spring had made this a difficult spring. Our food store that hung from the ceiling in the winter was long gone, and the apple trees wouldn't fruit for several more weeks.
I look out the square window to the courtyard. A storm pushes in, a gray cloud threatening the village. It towers over Mieno Octel, several stories high. Lightning flashes in the distance. I turn back to cutting potatoes. Almost on cue, Omam speaks. "A storm is coming."
All of a sudden, the floor becomes still. The last storm to visit Mieno Octel caused Unit Four's roof to cave in. Repairs had just finished today. If that was to happen again, we would be a likely victim.
"Well, why isn't anyone moving? We can't do anything!" She shouts, and the silent room gathers volume, but it isn't very enthusiastic. I can hear the worry in my brother's voice, and my sister had a shaky sound as she asked Omam whether she should put out an extra rain pan.
I, too, was slightly unsettled, but I didn't dream of showing it. Instead, I set my hands to work compiling the potatoes and onions in the soup bubbling on the stove.
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