A Week of Rain

662 Words2 Pages

A week’s worth of rain and still going strong. It’s smacking the library window like hundreds of little bullets. The intensity gives me a sense of urgency, speeding my search. I stumble my way through the shelf, letting books hit the floor and stuffing others back slapdash.

“Goodness!” cries a women, “What on earth are you doing?”

“Sorry, Ms. Haas,” I say, leaning back and panting slightly. I’ve searched almost every inch of the library and I’m growing desperate. If mankind evolved at the same pace as the inkling of dread in my stomach, everyone would be kicking Superman’s butt.

“Stop that, Melony,” she waddles from her office, “Are you possessed?”

“Sorry,” I repeat with the sincerity of Walmart’s customer service, “Did someone check out that book I returned a while ago?”

“You did this to find a book?” she says, “Gracious. Clean up that mess and I’ll find you another nice book.”

“You don’t understand,” I say, “I left the - I left something really important in the pages.”

Her face twists a little, but she covers it with a smile that doesn’t reach anything else on her face. “I see, dear,” she says, “Drake Anderson checked it out.”

I mutter something not allowed in the school library, then rush to the door.

“Melony, you still nee-”

I throw open the door and let it slam behind me. Fortunately, the eaves prevent me from becoming instantaneously wet and only a few splatters form on my clothing. The rain will become worse unless I find that stupid book. The town will be washed away like a sandcastle on the beach. Mud is already bubbling up in glue-like puddles that coat the sidewalks.

The upside to living in a bean-sized town is that I know everyone. I think I know Drake’s address.

Taking a breath, I ru...

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... from his hand. I move for it as it blows, barely catching it between my fingers. “Rain! Rain!” I read, “You’ve gone!” The rains blurs the ink, “A-awa. . . Away!”

“The ink is washing out!” Chase shouts over the wind.

“And you’ve-! Um. . . Come!”

Someone holds a jacket over the paper, but rain still splatters it. A whip of wind tears the page in half. “Again! The - Er, This day!”

“Now, go away!”

My voice is hoarse,;my mouth filled with rainwater. “Come only!” I spit, “On an app - appro-” Forcing my voice, I cry, “Appropriate day!”

Everything stops and I fall to my knees.

The boys are panting beside me; Drake clutching his jacket.

We drip for a moment in silence, then laugh hysterically.

“Th-that worked!” Chase says.

“That was amazing!” Drake adds.

I plop into the muddy grass, “Told you I’m not crazy.”

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