Franklin and the Thunderstorm

For my neighbour, Amanda — P.B.

For my mother, who still worries about thunderstorms — B.C.

Written by
Paulette Bourgeois

Illustrated by
Brenda Clark

Kids Can Press

F
RANKLIN could count by twos and tie his shoes. He could name the months of the year and all the seasons. He could read the thermometer, and he checked the barometer every day. Franklin worried about the weather because he was afraid of storms.

One day, Franklin was supposed to play at Fox’s house, but the sky was getting dark and the clouds were thick.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Franklin said to his mother.

She looked out the window. “It probably won’t rain until later,” she said. “You have time to get to Fox’s.”

Franklin put on his boots and took the umbrella.

As Franklin hurried to Fox’s house, he kept looking at the sky. The clouds moved quickly, and wind swirled dirt in the air.

Franklin felt all jumpy inside.

Fox was playing outside when Franklin arrived.

Franklin pointed nervously to the sky. “I think we should go inside, don’t you?” he asked.

“Not yet.” Fox grinned. “I love watching the clouds move and feeling the wind blow. It’s exciting!”

“I think it’s scary,” said Franklin.

Beaver, Snail and Hawk came over to play, too.

“My fur feels funny when it’s about to storm,” said Fox.

“My feathers get all ruffled,” said Hawk.

Beaver sniffed. “I can smell a storm coming.”

The wind became stronger.

Hawk flew loop-the-loops. “Whee!” he cried.

Franklin held on to his hat and shivered.

It was almost as dark as night when big fat raindrops began to fall.

“We should go in!” shouted Franklin.

“No,” said Fox. “Follow me.”

They raced to the tree house, where it was dry.

“Fox!” called his mother. “Time for everyone to come in.”

“It’s all right,” Fox shouted back. “We’re in the tree.”

Fox’s mother was there in a second. “It’s dangerous to be near a tree during a storm,” she said. “Lightning strikes tall things first, and you might get hurt.”