Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: WEATHER (07/19/18)
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TITLE: Feathers and a Cat | Previous Challenge Entry
By Virgil Youngblood
07/25/18 -
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Earlier that day a local radio reporter had fried an egg on the sidewalk at high-noon; the forecast for tomorrow was grilled steak on asphalt.
At the Community Church a prayer rally was being organized. Members from seven denominations were signing-up to take a thirty minute shift throughout the day and night trusting, 2 Chronicles 7:14. They understood the problem and the solution.
When the going gets tough, the tough get going. Hap Big-Owl Thomas and Kamnan Na Bhuranath, a Native American and a Thai immigrant, decided they couldn’t wait for the local gentry to implement a cloud seeding plan or for a Christian God to answer prayers.
Hap and Kam were walking to their neighborhood from a stop-and-rob convenience store on Route 66, swigging cold big red sodas beneath a star studded sky. The thought of chemicals polluting the sacred ground they walked on scarred their conversation.
“It don’t matter none,” Hap said, scratching a leathery ear. “I think my way is best. But sometimes the rain God seems to sleep. You try your way, too, Kam. Maybe you know something, maybe you don’t.”
“Oh, good friend,” Kam said, draining his soda, “You better find an umbrella. You’ll see.”
“It don’t matter,” Hap said, “as long as the rain comes quickly. My dog couldn’t track a cottontail on this parched dirt.”
The next morning the sun had barely peeped over the horizon when Margaret Terry placed a steaming cup of medium-grind Columbian beside her husband’s corn flakes. “Bruce, did you let Missy out? I can’t find her.”
“She’s probably sleeping under the bed,” he replied. “Dreaming about a mouse. That cat’s obsessed with ---“
BOOM –B0OM – B00M
“Is that thunder?” Margaret exclaimed, rushing to snatch a chintz window curtain aside. “Oh, I hope its going to --- No! Bruce, you got’ta see this. It’s that goofy clown next door.”
“Hap? What’s he up to?”
“He’s gone native. He’s braided his hair in pigtails and stuck white feathers in them. And he’s smeared turquoise paint on his face, and some other bright colors, orange and red and ---“
BOOM –B0OM – B00M
“He’s beating on a drum and turning circles, chanting something. Bruce, I think he’s doing a rain dance, he talked about it.”
Bruce had gone to a window at the front and was looking across the street. “I see Missy,” he said. “Kam has her in a basket.”
BOOM –B0OM – B00M
“Yesterday, Kam was looking for a black or grey female cat. He said he might do a Cat Parade to break the drought. Apparently they do that in Thailand. People are supposed to splash water on the cat when it comes to their house. If they do, he said it will rain in three to seven days.”
“I didn’t say he could have Missy. Besides, first splash of water on that Persian and we won’t find Missy in a week of Sundays.”
BOOM –B0OM – B00M
“Bruce, do something! That banging drum is getting to me. And get Missy -- Now!”
Bruce opened the door. Looking back he said, “You have to appreciate their spirit – just trying to help it seems. I’ll get Missy and you start praying. Those guys need to meet the real rain maker.”
BOOM – B0OM – B00M --- BOOM
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