The Rain

The muddy rain soaked through her wool coat. Her hair was matted and stuck to her face. Her shoulders shuddered with a shiver or sob; it was hard to tell which. The rain made it hard to see and covered everything in a thick layer of sludge. She hated him right now.

The brown color of the rain reminded her of the soup her father made the time mom was out of town. She and her sister had taken tentative tastes of the soup, laughed, and pretended to gag. Her dad insisted it couldn’t be that bad, but after tasting it, he made a face, pretended to keel over, then ordered pizza.

It had been the rain season. She and her sister had waited by the window to see the delivery transport come to the door but, the windows were too murky to see out. It had been a game. They pretended they could see the transport coming and shrieked with laughter when they were wrong; they laughed even louder when it arrived and made them jump with a knock at the door. They had felt safe in their home, despite the rain.

She struggled to keep herself upright in the thick muck that sucked at her feet. A moan escaped her mouth. She was angry at herself for losing the locket. She wanted to be home. She wanted to see her family.

Her thoughts drifted to the past again. She could still remember how it felt to be in her parents’ transport. It always smelled like overripe fruit from the juice she had spilled between the seats when they went on vacation to the ocean. But it was always warm and comfortable. It was usually reliable, though it once broke down on the roadway. They were on their way to see their grandparents, and Gran had to come to rescue them. It had felt like an adventure. She remembered her Gran picking them up and cursing the rain.

Her grandparents were always complaining about the rain. When her family visited them, Gran and Gramp would often talk about how the rain used to be a beautiful thing. They said it used to wash everything clean and make the air smell good. That you didn’t have to hide from it. You could stand and even dance in it. She never paid much attention to their stories. Her grandparents were always talking about how things used to be better when they were young. And why would anyone want to dance in the rain?

When she went to his house, he always sent a transport to pick her up. His transports were luxurious and always the latest model. His house was the same, as were his clothes, furniture, and everything else he owned. The first time she entered his house her mouth fell open like a cartoon. He was wealthy beyond anything she could have ever imagined. He had smiled at her reaction.

The first time she had slept with him, he looked at the tarnished, heart-shaped locket around her neck and shook his head. “Why do you wear this old thing," he asked? “I like you much better without anything on." It had been a lighthearted comment. He turned her around and unfastened the clasp on the chain, tossing the necklace aside.

When he saw it the next time, he was not kind. “Don’t let me see that junk again,” he said and turned his back on her. Now, when she went to his complex, she always took it off in the transport and carefully placed it in her coat pocket.

She was lonely out here. No one else would venture out during the rain season unless they had a transport. She wanted to destroy his beautiful transport, so he could feel some of the pain she was feeling. But he could just go out and buy a new one. It would be a mere inconvenience to him. He wasn’t cruel, just oblivious to the rest of the world. She hated him for that. She hated him for not understanding her pain.

They never met in public. Once during the dry season, she asked him to go for a walk in the gardens. He had looked at her with something like pity and said, “No beautiful. That’s not what we do.”

Despite that, he treated her well. He often complimented her curved hips and shiny black hair. She was always treated as a guest when she was at his place. She could eat his food, use his filtered shower, and sleep in his king-sized bed with the 1000 thread count sheets. The sheets were the softest thing she had ever felt.

It wasn’t a bad deal. She borrowed this luxury life when she could and, it was enough to get her through. Each morning, the transport would whisk her back to her crumbling complex where she lived with a sleeping bag and an empty pantry.

Her life hadn’t always been like this. When she was a younger, she had her own little complex, a job she liked, friends, even a boyfriend. She could pay her rent, buy groceries, and occasionally splurge on some new clothes or a night out. From time to time, she and her friends would splurge on a transport to take them to a concert or party. Her life wasn’t perfect, but it was good. She hoped for more one day but, this was the life she had always expected.

She had been at his place last night. When she got back to her complex, she discovered her locket was missing. She frantically searched her coat pockets, her purse, and then her complex. When it didn’t turn up, she immediately called him. His voice was clipped as he told her he would get the transport driver to check for it. When she didn’t hear back by that evening, she called again. He was angry now. He told her searching for that ugly thing was a waste of time and money. He would not use his hard-earned money to get his staff to look for it. She screamed that he was an asshole and hung up.

The changes happened a few years after she had moved into her own complex. The rain season started to get longer. There were rumors of crop shortages and massive floods. The first time it affected her was when they were forced onto rations. This was an emergency measure approved by the government. People were angry but thought it would be temporary. It happened to everyone - her friends, her sister, even her parents. Some people tried to get two jobs but, there wasn’t enough work. Around her, complexes were abandoned as people got behind on rent; they struggled to pay their bills and eventually find enough food.

Everything happened quickly after that, even though it felt like slow motion. The public transport stopped running. Stores started to close, and the ones that stayed open were poorly stocked. People waited for hours to get whatever they could and often left with nothing. The unrest began. Her parents’ house had been targeted since it was in a good neighborhood. She had never heard from them again.

She lost touch with most of her friends. Some left the city in hopes of finding something better. Some seemed to simply disappear. Some were arrested in the unrest. The only person she kept in touch with was her sister. After their parents went missing, they were virtually inseparable. They took care of each other. Although in truth, it was her sister who took care of her. Her sister was able to keep a job but made little - they moved into a broken-down complex and ate mostly peanut butter and bread, but they survived. Together they could laugh about memories of their childhood and cry about the things they missed.

The first birthday after her parents were gone was hard. It was so different than previous years - no presents, no celebration, no parents. So, when her sister came home with a gift, she was speechless. It was a locket – heart-shaped – with a small picture of her family at the ocean inside. She told her sister it was too much. They both cried.

By her next birthday, she was celebrating alone. Her sister's disappearance had been quiet, just like her parents. One day her sister went to work and then didn’t come home. It was impossible to know what had happened. Her sister could have been mugged, taken by the police, kidnapped for ransom, or involved in an unreported accident. There was no one to turn to when her sister disappeared. The police were only concerned with keeping unrest at bay now. She had no friends to ask for information. The days went by.

She’d scraped by for a while but, it was hard to make it through. At times she wanted to give up. Around 6 months after her sister disappeared, she met him. He was at the market conducting research for his company; she was selling scraps. As he passed her, he complimented her and slipped her his card. He said he might have an opportunity for her.

She slowly made her way to his house and started to question herself. He was the only one keeping her alive. Why had she insisted on aggravating him? Was the locket worth her life? But as she had this thought, her eyes stung. It was the only thing she owned. The only solid thing she had left of her family. She needed it.

She shook with cold now. She was soaked through to the bone. Her legs felt tired and all she wanted to do was sit down. The mud was thick under her feet. If she took a rest, she might never get up. It was her sheer will that allowed her to make it to his house.

She was in a terrible state, unrecognizable. As she approached his house, the staff tried to turn her away. But luckily, he was home. He let her in. He soothed her as she sobbed. He brought her to the shower and gave her clean clothes and a glass of water. Then he put her to bed while tears still stung her eyes. When she woke up, it was late. He was still awake and pulled her close.

“It’s all right darling,” he said. "I know you’ve had a hard day. Everything will be okay. I found the locket after you called yesterday. But you know I hate that thing. I’ve thrown it out, so we don’t ever have to go through this madness again.” He kissed her forehead.