The Rainmakers

Chapter 5: Jackson Singer

Everything was cold.

Everything around me felt so cold.

The earth, the ground and the water. But it felt good. And that was the nicest part about it.

I guess that was why I loved the water so much. And much more the rain.

"What are you doing out there?" I turn around and then I find myself looking at a blonde hair girl a tad shorter than me.

"Nothing." I say looking at her beyond the droplets of rain as she is standing on her front porch while I am on the road. She smiles at me.

"Your soaked."

"I am." I say to her. "And you are?"

"Elena Vanderport."

I walk up to her my shirt and shorts wet and so are my shoes. "I'm Jackson. Nice to meet you." I hold out my hand and try to dry it out with my shirt, but despite my efforts it's still wet of course. She laughs.

"You do know that your shirt is wet and that--never mind." She looks at me. "Do you live nearby? Because I could offer you some fresh towels to dry up and some coffee to keep you warm until the rain is gone."

"Thanks." I smile and then she opens her door and then I follow her inside. She goes to her kitchen while I stand up careful not to wet anything expensive inside her house. "Wow this is amazing, your a collector of guns and knifes." That was pretty awesome for a girl. She laughs and then hands me fresh towels and a cup of hot coffee.

"It's a hobby of mines... Well technically my father's and then it passed down to me." She smiles and then sits down unto her couch. "The wash room is all the way back and then the first one on the left."

"Thank you." I say to her and then follow her directions. As I walk towards the washroom I find odd scriptures and drawings on her wall. Drawings of men under water drowning then I follow further the drawings, it was a drawing of a man shooting a man under the rain.

"It seems as if you've found them yourself."

"Excuse me?" I turn around and find myself looking at Elena holding out her gun pointed right at me.

I duck down as fast as I could before she could shoot, I guess that's first instinct that you would have if you would have gotten shot straight at the face by a person you thought was going to help you in the first place.

"Shit!" I heard her cuss. I went inside a room and slammed it shut and then tried to find my exit. But all the windows were probably sealed. I tried my best to open it. No way out but the front door, or the back if they have one.

As soon as she was near I opened the door and she fell flat on her back I rammed my way through and then ran as fast as I could towards the front door, shots flying through, wheezing through me, I knew some parts of me were probably hurt by now but I would feel the pain later for now all I wanted to do was get the hell out of there.

Pacific High was my escape. Ohio was my escape. Being a high school student, yet again, was an escape.

No one was to know that I was old enough to be pass a Ph.D doctorate degree and no one will.

"Jackson!" I turn and then there Principal Waller yet again on my back for the third time today.

"I heard you've been bothering the quiz bowl team yet again. Is there a problem that I should be hearing about? Or is there just a problem with you and smart kids?"

"Not a problem at all sir. It's just that I was on my way to class and I was hoping that maybe I could get to it." I say and then he scratches his head. "Look Jackson, I'm only putting up with you here because I know of your good record in the past and I'm willing to bet your a really good kid but if I hear parents complaining about you and their children one more time then I don't think I can help you anymore."