Just Talking in the Rain

This is a very simple short story about two people discovering love as they surmount difficulty together. Because the story is about people's feelings and their growing awareness of them, it doesn't have any violence, suspense, heroism, conflict, or tragedy. They do have sex but that's not what the story is about.

If you want lurid descriptions of sex, along with violence, suspense, heroism, conflict, and tragedy, just send me a comment to that effect and I'll write you some other stories that have them, in any combinations you select. But if you read this story you may find that you didn't miss them as much as you thought you would.

The man in this story is not six foot seven and hung like a plow horse, and the woman does not have double D boobs and fuck like a nymphomaniac. I've never met people who would fit those descriptions so I don't know how to write about them. I'm willing to bet that you never met them either.

Believe it or not, being gentle with each other and trying to make each other feel good can be very endearing, and this story is about two people who do that. Regular, ordinary people, just like you and me. Read on. Maybe you'll recognize yourself.

*

"We're just walking along, not bothering anyone, looking around at the colors, listening to all the sounds of people, the water riffling over the rocks, the birds singing and chattering, and we're just of all our surroundings and yet apart from them, just the two of us. And as we walk it occurs to me that I'm enjoying your company very much, in fact so much that my appreciation of you is almost drowning out every other sensation. For me, the only thing that matters in the whole world is you."

"You have such a vivid imagination. You can let your mind transport us right off this sofa, out of this house, and into a beautiful sunny day. And while you describe it, I can sort of see it unfolding in front of me. But when you stop talking we're suddenly right back here, glad to be in out of the rain. Look how it's blowing across the patio. Won't it ever stop raining?"

"Always has. Just take it easy. Considering that this is a supposed to be a big, bad hurricane and all we're getting out of it is a few days of rain, I think we're pretty lucky. Besides, we've got each other. I don't mind awful weather as long as I can be in out of it with you. You look positively marvelous. This humidity has put color in your cheeks and curls in your hair. Maybe I ought to steal a kiss to take your mind off the rain."

"Is that all you ever think of?"

"No, but it's a start. What would you rather have me think of? I'm open to suggestions."

The phone rang. Somewhere. "I'd rather have you think of where we left that phone. Is it under the quilt?"

We scrambled around, feeling for the phone and trying to home in on its chirping ringtone. Finally, as I stood up and shook the quilt, the phone fell on the floor and I grabbed it, just a second too late. I handed it to Kim. "Maybe they 'll leave a message."

"Hold on, this is the phone that has caller ID. That call was from, aaah, Mr. Unlisted. So it was probably a telemarketer. Now I'll never know what they were going to give me for nothing, out of the goodness of their hearts."

There was a loud crash out front. We both ran to the living room where a leather sofa was in front of the big picture window, and got on our knees on the seat cushions like a couple of kids in our eagerness to see what had happened. A utility pole had fallen diagonally across the street, narrowly missing my car in the driveway. A wire was sputtering and emitting blue sparks where it contacted a puddle in the street. I pulled my cell phone out of my shirt pocket and punched in 911.

"911; what's your emergency."

"Utility pole down, blocking the street. Live wire making sparks, out in the middle of the street."

"Your address?"

"1564 Island View Drive, in Madison." "Thank you, sir. Is anyone injured?"

"No, not that we can see."

"Then please warn everyone to stay indoors. I'll send this to the utility dispatcher. A policeman or fireman will be there to put up safety barricades just as soon as possible, but with the number of calls we're getting it might be an hour or more." She disconnected the call.

Kim reached over and tried the floor lamp beside the window. "We've still got electricity. When they get here they'll probably shut it off. While we still can use the stove, we'd better fix something to eat later."

"I saw a pizza in the freezer. We can pop that in the oven."

By that time she had the freezer open and was pulling out a variety of survival food. "We've got some sausage subs that we could have now, and let the pizza sit once it's cooked, in case we're without power for a long time. Cold leftover pizza is good any time."

"Where's your big green cooler?"

"In the garage by the washer and dryer. What are you going to do with that?"

"Put the ice cubes in it, so the freezer will make some more. Maybe I'll put some beer in it, and keep dumping ice in on top. If we keep it loaded up with ice, then if the power goes off we've got some refrigeration for half a day at least. I'll put it out on the patio, right outside the door."

"Is the barbecue grill in under the patio roof?"

"Yeah, just barely, and it's got the cover over it so I think it'll be okay if we need it."

"Can you get the candles and matches out of the cabinet by the patio door while you're there, and put them up on the counter in case we need them?"

In a few minutes we had made our preparations and I sat down on a stool at the counter to watch Kim busying herself in the kitchen. She looked pretty cute, bopping around from the stove to the counter to the sink, wearing a big orange Syracuse University sweatshirt that nearly covered her blue short shorts. Her feet were bare, which I liked because she could have been a foot model. She moved gracefully, as befitted a dancer. All those years of tap dancing and ballet had developed her calf muscles, which rippled under the skin as she walked around, especially when she stretched to reach something. She had pulled her hair straight back into a pony tail, and it bobbed along behind her just as if it were on a real pony. With no makeup on she was still beautiful. I knew that she had just turned sixty, but she could easily pass for forty.

She turned to me, spatula still in her hand, and asked, "What do you suppose will happen next?"

"Well, it's hard to tell. If they can leave the power on at the pole over on the corner, your service might not be interrupted. It just depends on how far back they have to go to isolate the wires that are down. But they're going to have thousands of people shut off all over the area, and that line where the pole went down just feeds your little cul de sac, half a dozen houses. So once they isolate those wires that are down, they might just concentrate on replacing poles in other places that will restore power to hundreds of customers at a clip, and leave this street alone for a couple of days. We can wait a bit to see what's happening, and of course if your power is left on, we'll be just fine. If it gets shut off and it looks like a long wait, we'll load your perishables into my car and take off for my house. I wouldn't want to try that trip now, but once the storm has passed and they have a half a day to clear the roads it ought to be smooth sailing. Might even be better than usual because there won't be a lot of traffic."

"Do you want to move my car over and put yours in the garage?"

"No, I think I'll just leave it out there on the driveway. If the power goes out, I don't want to wrestle that sixteen foot overhead door by hand."

"That makes sense. It's hard, trying to make allowances for the power possibly being out for two or three days, when we're standing here with the lights on and the stove cooking. Oooh, I bet that pole took out our TV cable. Try it." I did, and got nothing but snow.

"We'll just have to think of something to entertain ourselves with. Maybe I can make a list of the possibilities. How detailed a list do you want me to make?"

"I know what you'll put on the list, so you don't even have to make one. I can read your mind."

"Well then, make your own list. But I don't think it'll look any different. Whenever you're ready to take a break from playing Betty Crocker we can sit down and try to make good use of our unstructured time. Like, suppose I start by taking that sweatshirt off, just lift it right up over your head."

"And I suppose my bra would be next, right?"

"Hey, that's a great idea. You're getting right into the spirit of this. Should I start now?"

"Yes, because this sweatshirt is too heavy now that I'm slaving over a hot stove."

"You mean you're starting to get hot?"

"Not the way you mean, but yes. Here, help me get it off." Some lifting and tugging ensued. "Hey, you don't have to do that to take a sweatshirt off. That's cheating."

"No, just being friendly, that's all. How are the girls?"

"The girls are just fine. They don't need any help from you right now. At least until I get this food all cooked. Why don't you get busy and make a pot of coffee? If the power goes off we won't be able to make any."

I hopped right to it, but my mind was occupied with a puzzle. "I was just thinking that I've been watching something here that I don't understand. We were just fine, no problems, just rain, and you were impatient and sort of borderline grumpy. Then a pole falls, blocking the street, and we're faced with the possibility of spending days without any power. Immediately you spring into action, Wonder Woman reincarnated. Now you're cooking, which is low on your fun-to-do list, but your mood is getting brighter by the minute. Can you help me out here?"

"I think I was bored. Day after day I hardly have to lift a finger here, and as much as I love my home there aren't any crises to challenge me. I think I need to rise to conquer something once in a while to feel good about myself. This sudden problem makes me feel alive again. And feeling alive when you're here, makes me feel attractive. I'm the object of your desire, not just because you're a horny old man but also because I'm sexy and alluring."

"I'm glad you clarified that for me. I didn't realize you felt that wealthy. I knew you'd made it from poor-farm-girl to working-professional to token-wife, then through nurturing-mother all the way to widow-with-means, transitioning to comfortable-thank-you, but I didn't know that you'd made it all the way to bored-idle-rich. That's real upward mobility, all right. Any words of wisdom to encourage a lowly peasant?"

"Yes. I just turned off the last burner on the stove. Come over her and give me a kiss and tell me how brave I am in the face of disaster."

My response was immediate, but I didn't utter a word.

It's funny: I remembered all the intimate things we did that night, but when I woke up in Kim's bed next morning I couldn't remember how or when we got there. My last recollection of a place was the family room floor, on a quilt in front of the fireplace, having a wonderful time teaching Kim things to do and positions to do them in that she'd never tried before. Surely we must have gone to sleep there, but then I was waking up in the middle of a king size bed with Kim sort of wrapped around me, both of us naked as newborns. And almost as gooey.

I slipped out from under her and walked over to the window. It was still raining, but without that awful gusty wind. I was wondering if we still had electricity, but then the ceiling fan rotating lazily above the bed gave me the answer. And hanging from one fan blade was a pair of black lace panties.

If anybody ever offers a prize for an essay on the most enjoyable hurricane I've ever experienced, I could win it hands down.

The bedroom was in the front of the house, and from the window I could see barricades blocking off the street and the live wire still arcing and sputtering in the middle of the pavement. That seemed like a hint that we could wait a long time to get the pole replaced and the wires fixed. I decided to let Kim sleep for a while, so I gently covered her with a sheet and a light blanket. Then I tiptoed to the linen closet for a towel and to the bathroom for a shower. The hot water spraying on that tender spot on my lower back felt good, and I was taking my time, thinking about how lucky I was to have found Kim, when the shower door slid open and Kim found me. I was already clean so I let her stand there and be taken care of while I soaped, rubbed, fondled, and rinsed her. As I turned the water off she reached up with both arms, enveloped me in a tender hug, and kissed me for about a year.

We dried each other and lay back down on the bed. "Just hold me," she said. "You are the most gentle, considerate lover in the whole world. I don't think I've slept that well in years. You left me feeling so good, and also so good about myself. Everything you did and said, told me that you have me on a pedestal, and that says something about me but even more about you. But I have to know, was that a true expression of your feelings toward me?"

"Kim, I couldn't have faked that even if I wanted to. We were rolling around on that quilt for hours, and it was the best evening I can remember. You are wonderful. I suppose it's too soon to use the L word, but I hope we keep this up for, well, forever. Just one question: how'd we wind up in the bed?"

"I think we must have fallen asleep out there, and come in here later without completely waking up. I do remember moving around on the bed to get comfortable, and the position that felt the best was with my leg draped over your thigh and one arm up over your shoulder."

"Then you didn't move after that, because that's how I found you this morning. If I hadn't had to go to the bathroom I wouldn't have moved. You're the best snuggler. I had the feeling that I wasn't just with you, I was wearing you, like a favorite jacket that just feels so good."

We were lying side by side, halfway lying down on our backs and halfway leaning up to face each other. Kim looked up. "How'd my panties get up there?"

"Search me. I like them there. Sort of like a flag. In the Army a general officer used to have his personal flag, and it was run up on the flagpole to tell the world that he was on site and in command. Maybe the panties symbolize that we're here and taking care of each other. Too bad you don't have a flagpole so we could display them out front."

I reached across and slid her over to me, lifted her up onto me, front to front, and wrapped her in my arms. She wriggled herself into place and laid her head on my shoulder with a contented sigh. We closed our eyes and dozed off for a half hour or so. Who needs a timekeeper? I wiggled my shoulders a slight amount and she whispered, "Oh, please don't move. This feels so good."

A noise out front broke our silent mutual adoration. I could hear a truck engine, some big things clunking on the ground, and men talking. Kim seemed reluctant to stir, but she raised her shoulders up off me, wriggled in a sinuous, sexy, graceful motion for a few seconds, and then sprang up like a young athlete and went to the window. "There's a man up on that other pole, the one with the big tank thing up by the top, and he's getting some sort of a tool from the other man on the ground, hauling it up on a rope."

"I joined her at the window and watched. The man up on the pole busied himself while the other man walked toward Kim's front door. "I'll handle it," I offered, and walked out to the front hall to answer the door.

"Sorry to disturb you," the man said. I stood in the open doorway, stark naked, yet I didn't feel embarrassed in the least; it was as if I had every right to be there like that, and was staking my claim to the territory. "Your power will go off in a minute or so, and it won't come on again until we can get a pole crew here to replace that one that fell down. Once we have these wires disconnected, we'll get the broken pole and wires out of the way so the street can be used. "

"How long will we be without power?"

"Hard to say, but easily a day or two. What you see here is repeated hundreds of times, all over the county. We're getting crews in from out of state to help. This is a big storm."

I thanked him for the news and closed the door, just in time to see the hall light wink off. I was aware of how quiet the house suddenly was, even though I hadn't been aware of any sounds before. I reflected that the things that had just fallen silent were probably the two refrigerators. Time to execute Plan B.

An hour later we were on the road in my car, carrying a load of clothes and perishable food, headed for my place. We started off with a steady conversation, but as we passed places where the storm had caused serious damage we fell silent, our laughter replaced by gasps. One house was cut right in half by a huge tree that had fallen like a meat cleaver, crushing everything in its path. Utility crews were tugging tangles of power lines off the streets, cutting fallen trees into pieces they could move out of the way, and we saw more fire trucks and ambulances than we really wanted to, reminders that the most fragile objects in most neighborhoods were the people who lived there.

Kim let out a little whimper and I turned to see her wiping away tears. "Oh, those poor people. Did you notice that car that the big tree limb fell across? The roof was caved right in where the driver would have been!" As if she had called for an encore, we rounded a corner and were held up for a few minutes by policemen directing traffic around a wrecked car that was being cut open by a crew of firefighters, presumably to rescue somebody trapped inside. A mile farther down the road a big tree had fallen right across the road. It had been sawed off even with the curbs, and the part in between dragged out of the traffic lanes and stacked in pieces in the parking lot of a supermarket. Scars in the pavement showed where it had skidded across the road, probably dragged by a fire truck. Looking over at the supermarket beyond the heap of tree limbs, I could see that the big front window had been smashed, leaving the front of the building open to what was left of the storm. Another store in the same shopping center had a big sign half in and half out of its smashed front window. Cars were all over. Some were sitting as if they had been parked, others looking as if they had been scattered by a giant hand. We saw some on their roofs, some on their sides, and one perched precariously on top of a truck, looking ready to fall off rear end first. Some houses looked undamaged except that parts of their roofs were missing, rafters and all. An overhead garage door was leaning against a signpost, with no indication of where it had come from. A shudder ran through my body, a signal from my central nervous system to tell me I'd seen enough.

As we crossed the industrial area on the southern edge of the city, we saw less damage, either because the buildings were more substantial or because the storm hadn't hit as hard there. In a residential suburb we saw very little damage at first, then suddenly a space of a hundred yards or so that had been swept nearly clean, with not a single house that was still whole. My home was past a row of hills beyond, and the suspense was getting to me as we neared the top of the ridge, where we'd be able to look the area over. Miraculously, the far side of the ridge was almost untouched, and I breathed a silent prayer of thanks.

I parked in my driveway, and was unsnapping my seat belt when Kim reached over to me. She hugged me to her and whimpered a little, then pulled back and between sniffles, said in a small voice, "I'm so glad to have you to lean on with all this, this, uh, wreckage around me. We're so lucky to have our homes spared, and we're so lucky not to be going through this alone. After seeing all that, I feel so tiny and so vulnerable. I guess I was feeling in control of my life, and this has shown me how foolish I was. Nobody's in control when this happens."