The night was cold and the fog flowed gently through the streets like a wave of magic and weird. She went out on the balcony and listened: Silence. Pinned her eyes to the sea. It was not very far. Just a few meters away. The moon graced her with its dim light. She remained to observe, so dark and wild, until she heard steps. She turned her head, and turned towards the sound source. She saw him. He walked boldly and decisively in the desert road, with frost as his only companion. His pace was quick and restless, as if he was late.
He approached the large plane tree in front of the house, underneath her balcony. Once he arrived next to it, he stopped. He turned his head left and right a few times to make sure that he was alone. Then he started searching for something near the tree. She made no move. She remained to rely on the brass railings of her veranda, holding her breath, so as not to let him understand her presence and leave. For a while he was hiding by the foliage of the tree. The only thing that remained to witness his presence, was the crackle of dried leaves. As if they were complaining of his indifference to those. As if they were asking for his attention.
Suddenly, a metallic sound was heard. She stepped on the toes of her feet so as to be able to see him. He was holding a golden ladder, with ornate carvings on the edges. Where did he find it? What would he need it? For the first time in her life she was seeing such a beautiful creation. Imagined unreal, something out of a dream. He took a last look around him before he started to roll it out. One by one, increasingly more stairs appeared, which directed towards the sky. But, how was it happening? She rubbed her eyes with the inside of her hands: she will be surely dreaming.
She opened her eyes again. No. It was true. Enchanted as she was, she saw him beginning the ascent with a decisive look. Something did not seem right but something was not appropriate in all this dreamlike scene. She looked at his face again. Now, lighted by the silver moonlight, she could observe it better. But, she discerned something in his eyes. His lips were pursed, almost bloody from the pressure he exerted on them. And his eyes were red and bleary. “It hurts” she whispered, with a whisper similar to the wave splash, tied with the calmness of the night.
She continued to follow him with her eyes, feeling her heart heavier, full of his sorrowful look. A few minutes after, he stopped climbing. She could just see him now. She narrowed her eyes and pushed herself to focus only on his figure. He tended his right hand, as if he was looking for something. A little later he clenched his fist. But what did he grab? What was he trying to pull close to him? She closed her eyes a bit more in an effort to focus better. She couldn’t. No. It cannot be. She took another look.
There was no doubt. It was a small cloud. It looked like cotton and in other parts it was white while in others it was gray. Having brought it fairly close to him, based with his hands, and managed to climb up. His sigh was hiding a dose of relief and a dose of happiness. He sat down and left staring towards the sea, like the way it was a while ago. For him all of these were ordinary. For him all of these were his life. She continued looking at him. Her neck began to complain – she had for too long her head turned to the sky – but she did not care.
She realized that little by little, his gaze was more and more darkened. His thoughts were crashing upon him, beats inside his heart and mind, were closing him inside them, and would not let him out. There was only one way out.
He approached his palms before his eyes, as they had begun to tear. Then he held them there. His crying was silent and peaceful. It did not last long. Her gaze followed his hands, which no were longer hiding his shining now eyes. She saw him to carefully place them on the cloud, to absorb all of their moisture.
A shine followed, like lightning, before the first drops started to fall. The exclamation of excitement that escaped from her lips made him turn towards her. But how could he had not seen her earlier? He turned the ladder to the balcony, and began descending the golden stairs. She did not move again, still enchanted and terrified by the spectacle acted out before her. He approached her and tended his hand “Nice to meet you” his voice was gentle and deep, his eyes were both dark brown and amber, reminded her of autumn. She gave him her hand tentatively.
He smiled at her warmly and replied “My name is Rainmaker. Yours?”
Evi “Wild Rose” M.
Original Version of “Let me tell you a story – The Rainmaker” written by Evi “Wild Rose” M. can be found here