Late Summer Rain

Chapter Seven

Days seemed longer when the weather stayed the same. Summer was an endless dream, as hot rays from the sun soaked into our lands. Only, it wasn't our dream. I dreamed of rain, drizzling for hours upon hours, falling endlessly onto the dry soil. The soil sucking it in like a baby drinking it's bottle. The clouds were a beautiful sight. The white puffs of condensation, looked like so much more. The gray lining throughout, gave off an interesting sparkle. Almost magical, even. It was something I longed to see. Something we all craved. The sight of heavy clouds, waiting to let loose. Waiting to pour over our land. 

But as the morning sun rose higher into the sky and my eyes fluttered open, I was met with the same result as the day before. Sure there were clouds in the sky, this isn't some alternate universe. Those clouds lacked the gray sparkle that I had just seen so vividly with my eyes closed. Those clouds lacked what we needed. 

Water.

It's a basic human need. It's what we need to survive. Ten, eight ounce, glasses of water a day. Though, I haven't met anyone who actually drinks that much water each day. I'd like to say I was a healthy person, like that but in reality, I drink tea. Sweet tea; much of it too.

My shoes hit hard against the wood floors, as I walked down the stairs. Harry was up much earlier, I had heard Rose's truck start and drive down the dirt road that led to the house. He had his monthly doctor's appointment to attend today.

"Hunter?" I asked the man, whose back was to me, kneeling into cabinet.

"Yes?" He asked bringing his head back, to look at me.

"What are you doing in there?"

"Rose asked me to clean this out for her, though it's proving to be harder than I thought. I don't know what's considered trash and what isn't." He laughed.

"Need some help?" I asked, while sitting down on the floor beside him, as he nodded his reply. He sunk further into the cabinet, reaching for whatever it is that had been in there. I never went through it myself, mostly because I've never had time.

His hand drew back a small box with floral print covering the outside; empty. It was decorative, for sure. Rose would most definitely like it. I set it to the side, along the piles of crumpled newspaper that must have been in the cabinet as well. Hunter pulled back with an envelope in his hand and rested into my open hand.

Pictures. The first few were pictures of the ranch, it looked well-kept. The grass was the brightest shade of green, the fence was freshly painted, even the dirt road looked better. I instantly knew these were from quite awhile back and the pictures, that awaited my eyes, only confirmed it all.

The cloned blue eyes that I, myself, have stared back at me. The man wearing his usual brown cowboy hat with his tanned arm rested securely around a petite woman. Her hair shining in the sun, her face alive and warm. Both of their eyes revealing pure happiness and joy. I smiled, as my finger on it's own accord traced the features of their familiar faces. Revelling in the thought, my eyes closed as my mind wandered through it's own memories. Such great ones, they were.

"Who are they?" Hunter's voice shattered the image of a lone horse galloping through the open field with my mother and father on it's back.

"My parents." I replied, placing the pictures back into the neat envelope and setting onto the wood floors.

"They looked really happy." He smiled up at me, warmly.

"They were." I nodded, smiling to myself.

Hunter sat beside me, as I laid staring at the night sky. Both of us listening to the sounds of the wild. The stars twinkling, the night air ever so slightly breezing by.

The moon was such an odd thing. It's beauty only seen when you kept yourself awake. My father once told me, "The most beautiful things in this world, we almost never see but, it's the rarity of them that makes them even more fascinating." His words, I thought of over and over. At six years old, I figured it was butterflies or rainbows. Something easy as that. But, as I look back at the wise words of my late father, I understand them now.

"Makes sense." My memories dropping once more.

"What makes sense?"

"What you just said." He looked down at me from the corner of his eye.

I turned on my side, propping myself up on my elbow in the grass, wanting to know his interpretation. "How so?"

He looked at me once more before, turning his gaze upwards to the stars, "If we always seen the most beautiful things in the world, they wouldn't be very special, would they? We would expect them, just like the things we don't consider beautiful. But since we rarely see such beauty, it's then in that moment that our breath is taken away. That we are truly fascinated by it and left speechless."

Silence followed and as he slowly lowered himself onto the grass, to look at the stars, I looked at him bewildered. As the quietness continued on, I found myself speaking out. 

"Hunter?"

"Yeah?" His voice husky.

'That was pretty deep."