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Scintillations
Playing Boggle
Seduction in the Snow
Curious Rain
The Opposite of Peas
Playing in the Vertical World
Bring on Broadway
(Parents)
Snorkeling Past Fear
You Won't Get Far
In Those Shoes
Legos
Freedom From Five Feet
Chasing Shadows
Mozzarella No More!
Letters FROM
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Issue
12: Synchronicity
Issue 13: Danger
Issue 14: Home
Issue 15: Transitions
Curious
Rain
Jennifer
Lee Popa
The
spontaneity of the situation was purely divine. We heard the
splattering of rain on the rooftop and instantly darted to the
front door without a single word passing between us. I hastily
unlocked the bolt and the door flew open. We stood in the
front porch in wonder of the rain that had come so rapidly. It
was a ferocious rain that leant no warning, provided no
explanation.
It
roared onto the driveway, nipping and biting at the slick
asphalt. The rain snarled and hissed as if to warn off every
delicate leaf and petal. Everything was dark for one o’clock
on a July afternoon. The air that had been stagnant only
moments ago was swishing among rapid water droplets. We were
surprised by the ferocity of the rain, but to our ears it
became a booming static. We hesitantly reached out our hands
to touch the water. The swift drops pecked away at our open
palms, but it was surprisingly warm and pleasant.
It
was then that he slipped his tiny wet hand into mine and asked
if I was going to play in this fierce rain. He softly squeezed
my palm, but I promptly responded “no.” My practicality
stole that response from me, triggering a series of reasons as
to why it was better to remain situated on the porch. This was
a child whose livelihood was dependent upon me. I was hired as
his caregiver and I would be devastated if he was ever harmed
due to poor judgment on my part. I had visions of petite
Andrew slipping and injuring himself of the asphalt driveway.
I imagined a lone jolt of lightning attracted to his four-year
old body. I envisioned a series of accidents, as well as what
his parents might think if they heard I had taken him into an
unsafe situation.
My
thoughts drifted from practicality to the sensation of warm
raindrops splashing on my cheeks. The rain enticed me. My body
began to crave the sensation, and I was overcome with a need
to jump from the front porch. This afternoon was an occasion
to play. I could not pass up this delicious opportunity to
splash in the succulent raindrops swiftly rushing to the
pavement, no matter how impractical it may be.
Colossal
trees were swaying in unison as if they were a line of ballet
dancers reaching the tips of their stiff branches to the wet
sky. The rain showed no indication of subsiding from this
merciless downpour. The
harsh static of plummeting raindrops only grew louder. We both
had a secret smile as we gawked at this strange July afternoon
rain.
I
was the first to leap off the porch and he was not far behind.
We were absorbed and heartily greeted by the storm. In a
moment, we were screaming and kicking up our legs to splash
each other from the enormous puddles that had gathered in the
driveway. The rain felt like warm pellets on our skin. My
ankles were submerged in water and the waterline from
splashing in the puddles was quickly climbing up the legs of
my blue jeans.
I
felt suddenly silly. I couldn’t remember the last time I had
been so childlike. For once in my adult life I was acting
without inhibitions. I savored the sensory experience and
chose the raw emotional side of myself instead of the
practical nay-saying version. I had thrown caution to the wind
and I was allowing myself to be swallowed by this sumptuous
rain storm. With my face upturned to the tearful sky, I stuck
out my tongue to taste its bliss. My arms were stretched for
miles at my sides catching sweet raindrops. My white cotton
shirt was instantly soaked, every inch was marked as territory
the rain storm had claimed. It was a thin shirt that clung to
me as a child clings to its Mother, and I adored the
sensation.
Andrew’s
feathery blonde hair was now matted to his small head. He was
jumping in wild jerking motions, his arms flung around and he
laughed hysterically while he frolicked in bare feet. His
clothes hung heavily from his tiny body, but they did not slow
his enjoyment. He had never looked so jovial.
We
continued frolicking and jumping with giggles of delight. My
partner in crime was merely four and was shocked by this
younger side of me, but then again so was I. I too was four in
that moment. I
ran to the porch to get fresh sticks of sidewalk chalk. On
black asphalt we wrote our names through the thin layer of
water that coated our ebony canvas.
As we wrote, we watched pink, lavender and apple green
swirl together as water rippled across our names. Slick
raindrops jumped into our mouths and dropped down our throats
as we laughed at the sight.
The
rain eventually subsided to a faint mist. We dismally headed
towards the door of the dry house. My hair was stringy and
dripping with wetness. Just when we thought our rainy play
date had ended, the rain started again, beckoning us to
reconsider. We yelped with glee because some days you just
have to play in the rain.
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