Last Night's Rain

The storm woke me up in the middle of the night and I lay still in bed listening to the sound of rain approaching. Each assault was like a wave rolling in, surging and growing stronger in volume until it became a wash of sound, beating upon the roof above me and reminding me of being tumbled inside the break after a wipe out. Every now and then, a flash of lightning burned a negative of the window-framed yard into my retinas, followed with an imaginary giant tramping by, his basso footsteps rumbling through my walls and bed, and through me. Sometimes it was so close it felt as though one had tripped over the house, stubbing his huge toe with a grumble before going about his business.

“I don’t like it that close; I hope we don’t get struck.”

I had known without looking that she was awake with me, listening as she watched light flash through the windows. Her simple little fear spoke to me, even though we were safe and warm in bed. Girls are great like that; they give you the chance to be the protector, to feel like a man even if it’s as mundane as a reassuring touch and whispered, sleepy words. My own eyes didn’t leave the skylights as I reached over and stroked her arm.

“It won’t touch us; we aren’t close to being the tallest thing nearby.”

Our house in Van Nuys is surrounded by various tall trees, coniferous and otherwise, along with the standard urban trees that are streetlights and telephone polls. From these, the power lines spider web across each other and stretch to each building and home, protectively veiling us in the all-too-breachable comfort of power and communication, of what we think of as civilization; civilization that was currently under a deluge. I often hoped for those breaches. A heavy rain, and with it, perhaps a power outage, is like a little adventure for me. It’s a welcome break from the constant, blasé sunshine.

My eyes glazed over from weariness as I tried to stay awake to enjoy the awesome nature outside the window’s glass. I fantasized about taking tomorrow off, waking slowly and luxuriating in my cozy sheets as my favorite gloom washed over the commuters already on their way to work. Suckers, I smiled. I’m staying home to watch movies, feeling for all the world like I'm young and home again, as safe as my most comforting moment with mom and dad. With no better thought in my mind, I rolled over and rode that feeling back to dreamland, with tomorrow seeming too far away to touch me.