Every story begins with an opening line. I tried: “It’s going to rain tonight.” And seven worlds tumbled out. Some stayed small. Some went strange. But all of them came from the same rain cloud.
ONE
“It’s going to rain tonight,” she said.
She turned from the window to look at me. I couldn’t pay attention when she was like this. Wanting me to listen.
I’d heard her a thousand times and yet, she still said things like that. Of course, it was going to rain. We watched the same morning news broadcast. I saw the weather report. I knew it was going to rain.
I watched the shape of her, outlined against the window. Gray clouds hung low. I couldn’t see it, but I’m sure she nibbled the nail on her left thumb. It’s always the same.
It’s been the same thirteen years. I knew she’d stand there, worrying over something that wasn’t worth the effort, and I’d sit here, waiting. The air snapped, and I saw the future, weighted and low like the gray clouds in the window.
I got up, heading for the door. I passed the umbrella hanging on its hook in the hallway, and stepped outside. Halfway down the block, I felt the first raindrop hit my nose: “Yes, it’s going to rain, my dear.”
***
TWO
“It’s going to rain tonight,” I said, pulling my coat closer.
The wind cracked through the trees, and I knew I was going to be late. The sky grew darker and my heart thudded in response. He won’t be mad, I told myself. It’s better to do it now, get it over with before he found out from someone else.
My father’s face flooded my mind. Chiseled coldness, hard brow, dead eyes. Who was it that said eyes were the window to the soul? If that was true, my father had the soul of a shark: remorseless hunger.
The wind gusted again. I shuddered. People rushed past me on the street, hurrying home before the storm. If only I could join them. I squared my shoulders. My safe harbor lay on the far side of the storm–-the only way forward was through. I pulled the door open, arranged my face, and welcomed my fate.
“Hello, Dad.”
***
THREE
“It’s going to rain tonight,” George muttered under his breath.
Just great. He’d been out here six hours and had nothing to show for it. He was supposed to be proving a point to his brothers, and now he was going to get rained on. Typical.
He shifted in the blind, and the wood groaned in response. If there were any deer out here they better show their white tails now. He wasn’t coming back to the cabin soaked to the skin without a buck to show for it.
His brothers were always running their mouths, and even after all these years, George took the bait.
His body ached, his ass itched, and for the love of God, why didn’t he pack more food? Just as he was thinking about the turkey gravy his brothers were probably enjoying without him, he heard the leaves rustle. He held is breath and watched a doe poke her head into the clearing.
Well, it’s no buck, George thought, as he raised his shotgun, but it will have to do.
***
FOUR
“It’s going to rain tonight,” I whispered to the moon, as soft clouds began creeping the edges of night.
“I can always feel it.”
I let myself sit in the moment, a solitary belonging. The shadows crept up the wall, and I slowly returned to myself. I could finally breathe.
Days were chaos. Schedules and dinners, snack times and soccer balls. But night? The moon rises high, the old house groans companionably, and I am simply me, shedding the faces of mothering, one by one, in the glimmer of night.
Where does the time go when you’re not watching it?
I sank deeper into me, winding memories around my finger like well worn threads and dreamed of futures lost and yet to be.
***
FIVE
“It’s going to rain tonight,” the clouds said to the sun, winking a spell before rushing off to their next stop.
The sunny day smiled down on me, and warned me about the rain before it arrived. It heard it from the clouds above, and wanted me to know.
I thanked it kindly and carried on my way, content in knowing a well-spent day was coming to a close.
***
SIX
“It’s going to rain tonight,” he said.
I knew he meant it. He never said anything out of place. And tonight? Well, tonight we were here to make meaning of the mess we created. The mess he now had to fix.
It wasn’t my fault, but I knew I was going to carry the blame. He stepped away from the window and into the light. His face was lined, but not old. It was the kind of face that carried on hundreds of conversations and devised hundreds of scenarios before ever speaking a word. It was the face that hunted most of my waking hours.
He was a man who moved countries and made fortunes. That’s why I, and everyone, else stuck with him. We endured the penance that came with his trust. Once you were in his club, you were in. That didn’t mean it was easy, though. It meant you were part of his orbit, and his loyalty didn’t come free.
I steeled myself as his gaze found mine. I would pay any price.
***
SEVEN
“It’s going to rain tonight.”
“Oh yes, it is.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I just said that.”
“I know, but you said it so well.”
“Did I? I hadn’t noticed. Well, if you insist.”
“Yes, I insist. You have such magic with words. It captivates the mind.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes.”
“Yes, then.”
“What was I saying before?”
“Something about rain, I believe.”
“Right, the rain.”
“It’s going to rain tonight.”
“Clearly. There’s so many clouds out there. Heavy with rain, no doubt.”
“Too much rain.”
“Can there be too much rain?”
“Well, I think so. What about flooding? We don’t want that.”
“No, no. Certainly not flooding. Bad for the hydrangeas.”
“And the petunias. Don’t forget them.”
“The petunias! I always seem to forget them.”
“Yes, but it’s okay. They don’t mind.”
“No, they are a kind little flower aren’t they?”
“Truly, the kindest.”
“Say, remind me to call my sister and tell her it’s going to rain.”
“Already done, dear.”
It really is going to rain tonight. The clouds are rolling in now; low with mischief and raindrops. Soon to fall on my head. Thanks for spending time with my storms. The absurd is waiting.
Leave a comment. Absurdity welcomed.