Then Sings My Soul

Part of him wished he hadn't promised his sisters he'd take them swimming today, seeing as it was the first day of his adult life. He should be with his friends at the Cue Spot playing some eight ball and his future conquests, both sexual and financial. The excitement of graduating high school and a six-year-old's chocolate moon-pie eyes had obviously gotten the best of him last night.
Bobby reached down and grasped the hand of his little sister. Jonda eagerly squeezed her big brother's long fingers, anticipation and excitement whooshing through her tiny digits. He tried to do the same with Sarah, but she being a grown-up fourteen, rebuffed his paternalistic offer. It was the first day of summer vacation and the three siblings were tromping to the local swimming hole.
"I'm gettin' pooped. When we gonna get there. You guys walk too fast." Jonda looked up at her brother.
"No we don't, Short-stuff. We can't help it if your legs are too short," Sarah piped in.
"Bobby, she called me Short-stuff again and Momma told her not to!" Jonda skidded to a stop on the concrete roadway and jerked her hand from Bobby's. With a high-pitched huff that sounded like an upset sea lion barking at food-waving tourists, she crossed her arms and stamped her feet.
"Come on, Sarah. Leave her alone. You know she doesn't like that name." Bobby pulled Jonda's hand from her wooden Indian pose and forced her to move again. The trio tramped out of their Garden City neighborhood veering east onto the grass shoulder of the always busy Quanah Avenue. Bobby readjusted their walking placing himself nearest the traffic and Jonda between himself and Sarah. Bobby and the girls skirted past a couple of tiny diners, crowded diners and soon were beyond the bustle and beside the huge Texaco tank farm.
Bobby surveyed the far side of the avenue. It was much the same as the area they'd just passed: frantic businesses humping to stay ahead of the competition, interrupted here and there by mom-and-pop cafes or open-aired hamburger stands whose only advertising was the wafting smell of grilling meat and deep-fried potatoes. Beyond the busy street lay Lookout Mountain. The heavily treed apex was pinioned by a towering radio antenna. Bobby chuckled within himself. Lookout Mountain wasn't really a mountain, not even what most would call a big hill. But for people living around Tulsa, it was the closest thing to a mountain they'd see. Bobby's eyes drifted to the base of the hill and settled on the Frisco railroad yard. Even from the long distance, he could see the movement of numerous slow-moving freight trains. Somewhere up there his big brother, Josh, was working as a brakeman, no doubt sweating even more than he was.
Despite the rushing traffic beside them, the massive round, gray-colored oil tanks evenly spread out over acres of green pasture instilled a quieting effect on the area. Bobby released his sister's hand and raised his right arm. With his left hand, he pulled the short-sleeve of his cotton to its fullest extent and wiped the pre-noon sweat beads from his forehead with the thin fabric. "Gosh, it was already hot," he thought. "And it was only May!"
"Hey, Bobby," Jonda interrupted his thoughts. "Would we get drowned if one of those tanks broke and all that oil came out?"
"The tanks are not going to break, so don't worry about it."
"But what if they did? We couldn't run away because if we did we'd get runned over by the cars. I bet we'd drown."
Sarah tried to help: "Jonda, we're not going to drown! The tanks are perfectly safe. Besides the tanks may not have any oil in them right now."
"How do you know? I bet they're loaded with oil. Enough to cover us clear up to here." Jonda stood on her tiptoes and pointed above Sarah's head.
"Well, at least it won't be over my head," Bobby laughed. "I'll live through the flood."
"Not if somebody lights a match," Jonda said in earnest. "Then you'd burn up faster than we'd drown. Ain't that right, Sarah?"
"Good grief, Short-stuff. Don't you think if Bobby burns up we would too? Seeing as how we'd be covered with the junk too."
"Oh," Jonda muttered.