RAIN

Chapter eighteen

He stumbled in the darkness. The shadows grew more fierce and he had not a single spectrum of light to guide his way. The silence was thick, only disturbed by the occasional howl of the retreating wind. He pushed himself to keep going, each step more difficult than the last. The exhaustion had seeped into his bones and yet he was being pulled by some unseen force to keep going. The melee was over as quickly as it had started and he couldn't say that he had lost yet but he was beginning to feel like defeat was just moments away.

He dropped onto the trunk of a fallen tree that had been conquered by the storm just as he was about to be by Rain's grandfather. A laugh trickled out of him. Lost in a daze, he was still struggling to make sense of everything that had happened. He pulled in a few deep breaths to smooth out his breathing. His eyes trying to penetrate the darkness, trying to make out the shadows around him. He touched the bandage on his arm, the heaviness of despair started weighing him down. Yet, he knew he couldn't stop. Even if Rain ended up in that bog, he needed to bring attention to this madness in which he had found himself an unwilling participant in.

A breeze rocked the branches above his head, knocking heavy drops of water onto him. He gathered up himself and got off the log, his eyes trying to make out where he should go next. As he sauntered, the sound of rushing water guided his feet. He was careful where he landed his steps, he didn't want to end up in that surly current.

An ember of light started to glow out of the darkness as he walked. He hadn't noticed it at first until images started emerging from the dense shadows. The trees started growing sparse, replaced by farmland, the crops now destroyed by the storm. Not too far off, a house sat on an incline, the glow of light from its windows, breaking the shadows. Like the beacon of a lighthouse, it called him to shore and he trudged through the mud, panting and without a single hesitation within him. He no longer cared what happened to him. All he wanted to do was go home.

He walked up the creaky steps. Leaves and branches littered the small porch. A bamboo wind chime was strewn in the corner, shattered by the violent wind. The dripping of water filled his ears as he stood there wondering whose house this was and what awaited him inside.

He pushed the unlocked door and stepped in. The smell of something delicious was thick in the air, making his mouth water and reminding him that the last proper meal he had enjoyed was breakfast. He slinked into the room, looking around at its contents. A brown sofa set wrapped around the space and sitting on the coffee table was the lamp that had guided him here. He looked at the painting hanging on the wall, a vase of roses in an ornate bronze colored frame. Next to the painting was a shelf with knickknacks and pictures and figurines.

A sound drew his attention toward the adjoining room and he stepped behind the half wall. He looked at the little petite woman as she shoved firewood into a firebox. Sitting at the top was a bubbling pot, smoke drifting up to the galvanized tin roof. He took a few steps forward and then stopped to observe her. She pushed a strand of silver hair behind her ears and then straightened up. Giving him a quick smile, she gestured for him to sit.

"I told Rain to cut me some firewood before the storm but he never got around to it. My daughter sent him out to town this morning to get cold medicine for the children. I haven't seen him since yesterday, is he alright? I hope he hasn't fallen ill too. He's terrible when he's sick."

Jet smiled loudly and he sat, keeping his eyes on her.

"He looks just like you."

"Well I suppose he does. His father took after me, you know." She boasted as she leaned against the cupboard behind her. "Would you like to clean up?"