The Rain and the Rainbow

The rain came down in sheets one early Sunday morning. It poured with a voracity I had never seen before in my life. I heard it pattering the roof, flood through the gutters and gurgle down pipes. The lawn outside was clogged with water. Only the top edges of the grass blades managed to stay above the rising water.

The water covered the street as it ran down the hill like a blanket. Its smoothness was deceptive. The inch deep water was powerful and dangerous. I watched this subtle flood hit the tires of a car parked on the street. It shot up with great force, as if it was determined to push this intrusive object out of its way.

To make the matters worse, the sky above opened up in spurts. Sometimes, the rain came down hard or in mere drizzles before opening up hard again. It would let it rip with sudden ferociousness, pounding the unsuspecting world below with powerful pelts.

I knew I had to venture out into it. There were no choices. I had a child to feed and bills were piling up. I couldn’t afford to turn down a trick today, or any other day. Too many people counted on me.

Rainbows, I heard them say in school many years ago, was where the pot-of-gold was

I grabbed my raincoat. I didn’t look my sexiest in it. Possibly, that wouldn’t bother my customers. They wanted what was under that coat.

“Rain, rain go away.” I sang.

At that time, somebody must have answered my prayers. The rain stopped. I took a deep breath and exited the building and walked onto main street.

I walked a few blocks, looking for some action (even at this early time in the day). Somewhere in the east, the sun peaked out from under the blackened clouds.

I glanced in the direction of the sun and saw, instead, a long, looping rainbow. I stopped where I was and just stared at it. I wasn’t admiring it for its beauty, though. I just wondered about it.

Rainbows, I heard them say in school many years ago, was where the pot-of-gold was. Somewhere at the end of the rainbow was the place to be. However, I came realize that such foolish stuff wasn’t true. At least that was what I though at the time.

Rainbows are tough to catch or to find its end. They seem to move out of your reach when you try to chase it. It’s like those cartoon in which dogs are always chasing their tails and never getting it.

Still, it would have been great to actually catch a rainbow. Sometimes there are times I want to defy what reality has dictated to me and just find out if such notions about rainbows were true.

The clouds soon swallowed the sun and the drizzle slowly turned to a downpour. I slipped the hood over my head and strolled down the street, trying to look as sexy as I can with this god awful raincoat. I didn’t have time for the rain or the bad weather in general. I had to make a buck one way or the other.

However, as I strutted my stuff down main street, my mind ran amuck about rainbows. Maybe, I thought, I can catch a rainbow and find that pot-of-gold. And turn my back on this life I was leading.

But the rain didn’t go away

After a while, the rain was coming down hard again. I was sure my makeup was ruined, considering that the rain was hitting my face

“Rain, Rain go away,” I sang to myself as I made my way to a shelter from the rain to reapply my make-up. “Come again some other day.”

But the rain didn’t go away. And in a way, I was starting to welcome it. In addition, I stopped trying to apply the makeup. Why? Nothing was going to happen today.

I let it fall to wipe away the rest of the makeup, to dampened my uncomfortable clothes, to force me back home and to cleanse me of my miserable existence.

I left the shelter, a bus-stop. I didn't need protection from rain. My day was done. And, I began to realize that my days of walking the streets were through. Strange how nature tells you have to change.

So, I headed home where I can wonder and plan how I was going to find the end of the rainbow and never walk the streets again.