Short Stories

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Dancing in the Rain

I felt a small, soft finger tap me on my shoulder from the back seat. “What wrong with you?” my two-year-old sister inquired. Madison’s two-year-old body seemed just a little bit smaller than a normal two-year-olds. Her skin was the color of hot cocoa mix while her brown eyes… I knew if I looked into those dark brown eyes I would feel the deep black hole within myself and fully break down. She had now asked me that question twice. Instead of answering I turned to stare out the car window. And being the dramatic person I am, I asked myself a question. “What is wrong with me?” I tried to avoid the question until I could wipe away all of my tears. It seemed there were too many tears to wipe away. So knowing that Madison would continue that tapping on my shoulder, I turned slightly to her. “Nothing,” I lied quickly, looking back out the window. I told myself that I did not want to see the car’s interior. Looking at the soft ceiling of the car and the pleather seats would eventually lead me to someone’s wondering eyes. I focused on the rain droplets outside that mirrored my own small yet heavy tears. I heard the rain hammering down around and on the car. I told myself to quit crying and looked past the window. Outside that window I could see the world felt my pain. In the passing landscape I noticed many flowers soaking up that rain. Seeing the flowers brought me back to an old memory that touched my sadness, but made me smile as well.
“Lil’ darlin’? Would you like to accompany me on a stroll?” Granny asked. She was a tall Shawnee woman with cocoa skin and beautiful long black hair, shiny and straight. It was raining out, but knowing Granny I didn’t argue about taking a walk. She’d most likely say something like, “The Lord made both the sun and the rain clouds. We should enjoy both, wouldn’t you say lil’ darlin’?” We began our stroll with Granny declaring in various ways how beautiful a day it was. Along the dirt path there was green grass and beautiful wild flowers of all different colors. But me, I didn’t like the rain. “The rain makes me sad, Granny,” I told her pouting. “Well… all creation should love rain, dear.” Young and perplexed as I was I asked, “What about the flowers? They probably don’t like getting wet.” Laughing, she informed me that they did indeed. “It helps them grow, makes ‘em strong and pretty so they can dance in the wind without snappin’ in two.” The image of flowers dancing amused my little soul. I started to sway and dance like I thought a flower would. But Granny, seeing this, grew silent. Concerned I asked, “What’s wrong Granny?”
“You dance well lil’ darlin’, just like your grandfather. He always told me he’d teach me how.”
“Why didn’t he, Granny?”
“He died too soon dear… too soon.”
With that I grew sad. I didn’t like the sound of death. At that age I did not understand it fully. I only knew it meant the person was gone and was not coming back. Granny had told me about Robert Marshall, the young man she took as her husband at the age of sixteen. She described him as a short fireball. He was full of energy and people who knew him showed respect. And that is exactly what he deserved, according to Granny. I always thought of him as someone wonderful. Now Granny had just made it plain that he was dead. I grasped the concept that my grandfather was never coming back. I started to cry and as I cried the rain fell harder. I guess at that point I knew she was right. The rain shouldn’t make us sad because too many things in life already did.
A tap on my shoulder brought me back to the car ride. “I like music mina!” I looked over to Madison. I wasn’t shocked to see her wiggling around in her car seat. She was a good dancer and I guess that just runs in the family. I smiled for her benefit, making sure she registered my smile. Then I turned once again toward the window. As I watched the road I saw a newlywed’s car pass by. I saw tin cans behind the car. And another memory flooded into my mind.
“Don’t you just love receptions!?” I exclaimed loudly over the massive amount of noise. “Yeah they’re so fun!” Josh yelled at me with a smile on his face “nobody even cares that it’s raining”. He was a goober, but that was okay with me. I looked around to see everyone having a good time. But I noticed Granny sitting alone on a chair in the far corner of the room. I excused myself from Josh and made my way over to Granny. “Granny why are you sitting here all alone?”
“Well I have no one to dance with lil’ darlin’.”
Now at age 15 I still didn’t mind her calling me that. It’s like she had her own personal place for me in her vocabulary. “I’ll dance with you Granny,” as I said this I held out my hand and she grabbed it. I pulled her up out of her seat and surprisingly she led me outside of the tent. We did a funny style waltz for awhile, “Lil’ darlin’ thank you for asking me to dance.” Knowing Granny I decided to ask “why were you really sitting all alone Granny?”
“I like to observe people sometimes dear”
“What’d you observe?”
Granny bluntly stated “The Bride was crying in the bathroom dear.” Looking at her with a quizzical expression she went on, “they’re all having a good ol’ time but don’t you ever wonder about what’s going on in the inside dear?”
“Sometimes” I said still with a confused expression.
“Well in there dear it like a house full of mirrors yet we can’t see any clearer.” I nodded. The memory was gone and looking from the window I noticed the car had stopped. Madison, my mom and I got out of the car. I read the sign on the building. “Gwyneth Marshalls wake”.
Once I stepped out of the car I noticed it had stopped raining and was snowing. I buttoned up Madison’s coat and let my mom take her hand. I put my fingers to her face. Looking into her deep brown eyes I feel as if Granny’s spirit is with me again. My mother looks at me with a concerned expression. “Go ahead I left something in the car” I say to ease her worry. I watch as they go inside and I remember. I remember the day I asked her to dance that last time. I remember how she fell. I remember thinking “what have I done?” I remember her saying she was alright after hitting her head. Now I know she was not alright and I haven’t been since. My tears melt the snow as I walk to the car and open the door. Reaching in the back seat I pull out my notebook and find the poem I wrote just yesterday and read it out loud.
“Love, kindness and wisdom you shared
It’s so amazing how much you truly cared
In every way you taught me to be me
You showed me life was more than I could ever see
Taught me about my shortcomings and fears
Helped me when life brought on the tears
Told me for everything there is a time
It’s for you I write these feelings into rhymes
Thanks to you I know joy I should seek
I swear all of your teachings will remain
And someday granny we’ll be dancing in the rain”

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