The Umbrella

Damn, she forgot her umbrella and it was pouring down rain like water out of a faucet. If she could just make a mad dash to the car, maybe just maybe, she wouldn't get too wet. She went for it. It wasn't until she got to the door she realized her keys were still in her purse. Cursing a blue streak, she fumbled around and finally got the car door open and sloshed into the seat. She was absolutely drenched. Her dress clung to her like shrink-wrap, her shoes were ruined and her face was melting, her makeup pooling into her cleavage. She got a look at herself in the rear-view mirror and laughed, a little too hard and loud. She was losing it. This was just the kind of an end to a hellish day she should have expected. She got some kleenex out of the glove box, anything in her purse was too soggy to be of use. Cleaned herself up as much as she could and put the key into the ignition. Of course, nothing happened. Now she just let loose and started crying, then screaming and pounding her fists on the steering wheel. She must have made quite a sight to the man standing in front of her car under the awning.

He flipped his umbrella up and opened it, dashing to the passenger side window, motioned for her to roll it down. She hesitated for a moment, then rolled it down enough to hear what he was saying.

He had to yell over the noise of the rain, "If you pop the hood I'll take a look."

She said, "No thank you, I'll just call a wrecker, it's probably the starter I should have replaced instead of repaired last month."

Wary but trying to be polite, she unlocked the door and motioned for him to come in and sit in the car. The umbrella was no match for the force and direction of the rain, he too was soaked through, sat down, puddling in her front seat. Once she realized water was literally pouring off him, she started to laugh. They both laughed. He made some comment about what a sight they must make.

She tried her cell-phone to call the wrecker, nothing happened. He offered his, nothing happened. He suggested they go one row back to his car, they couldn't get any wetter. He would take her to a service station or home or where ever she wanted to go. She just wanted to go home, just too wet, tired and upset to care about the fact a stranger had made the offer.

Once they got out the car, the rain stopped. They took a leisurely walk back to his car only a few feet away. The moment they were safely inside, the rain started again. They both laughed and she noticed his laugh also seemed a bit harsh and on edge. He had tossed his umbrella into the back seat and off they drove to her place. They hardly spoke except for chitchat on the short drive. It kept raining on and off as they drove, she thought they had hit a lucky break as they pulled into the drive and it had stopped raining. The moment they opened the doors it gushed again, pushing them back into the car. He reached back and grabbed the umbrella and gave it to her.

He asked." May I come inside and use your phone to make a call?"

She said. "Sure if it's working."

Then he insisted, "Use the umbrella and I'll make a run for the door."

Once they got inside the house she got a better look at the umbrella, it was one of those old fashioned huge black things with a gnarly hooked handle and a long spike tip on the top. She set it off to the side of the front door and they walked into the kitchen to the left of the front door. Her little house was arranged with the kitchen and what went for a great room on one side and a short hallway to the right with two small bedrooms and one bath in between. A door led off from the kitchen into the attached garage and on the back wall of the great room was a French door leading into a backyard.

She had turned on all the lights from the switch panel at the front entrance as they moved into the kitchen. Just as she handed him the phone, the lights went out. They both just stood there for a moment, simultaneously cursing under their collective breath. He tried the phone anyway, as expected hearing nothing. At that moment, she thanked God for a gas stove and offered her rescuer tea. While the water boiled she set up candles in strategic places to offer more light and took one candle with her as she went to the bathroom for towels and robes. She always had several robes handy that had been various holiday or birthday gifts over the years.

She stepped inside the laundry room to change out of her wet clothes into the robe and showed him the bathroom to do the same. Along with the gas stove, she also had a gas dryer, so she offered to dry his wet clothes while they had tea and waited for the storm to abate. They moved to the sofa as the tea steeped in the pot she placed on the table, now somewhat artfully arranged with a small portion of her extensive collection of candles. En route to the sofa he picked up his umbrella, which she thought was rather odd. He made a comment about the temperamental nature of the storm to which she agreed just as the wind picked up and howled around the house. The rain beat hard enough against the windows to rattle the panes and for a moment it seemed the storm itself sought entrance into her home.

There was another sound, barely perceptible over the din of nature, but a sound she recognized, having heard it before. A sound of china on china, the gentle rattling of cup upon saucer. It took her moment to realize it was not only her own cup and saucer making the noise but his too. They were both more affected by the ferocity of the storm than their awkward social exchange portrayed.

In an attempt to make light of the situation she asked him about the umbrella. It was only the very noticeable, even in candlelight, change in his expression that made her regret her question. He stuttered out a response that it had been a gift from a friend. His continuing not to speak was as much sufficient in its silence and as it was mildly alarming from his expression.

Then she asked, " Would you care for another cup of tea?" As a way of breeching the silence.

To which he mumbled, "I need to go."

As they stood and headed to the laundry room to check the state of his clothes, the lights began to flicker on and off. There was a tremendous noise as a tree in the backyard crashed to the ground, the branches slamming into the back door. The house was then filled with the sounds of shattering glass and her screams as she realized what had happened as the wind whipped in stilling all the lit candles. Then total darkness once again.

Slowly she made her way back into the kitchen for a flashlight, leaving him standing there in the dark, umbrella in hand. She was able to make a quick survey of the damage to the back door of her house and it did not appear to be as bad as she would have thought. The major problem being the broken glass allowing in the rain. Carefully stepping through the mess she made her way back to him as the lights came back on. She had been looking down at her feet watching her step as she walked, not really seeing him until she was almost directly in front of him. In the full light of the room, she saw an absolute terror stricken expression on his face, he had raised the closed umbrella over his head like a weapon as if to strike her down. Instead he shoved her aside with his free hand and dashed forward swatting at something moving towards them on the floor from the now glassless French door.

She never got a clear view of whatever it was, she was just thankful that all his efforts made it go back outside from whence it came. He turned around, red faced and out of breath as much from terror as from exertion.

Mumbling a curse," Goddamned rodents," he sat down on the sofa, crumpling into himself.

She stood there uncertain about what to do or say.

Finally he stood and said, "I really do need to go now."

For some reason, she felt compelled to hug him, as if in gratitude for the rescue ride and now the vanquished vermin. They stood together stiffly for a moment. He seemed to relax a bit and actually put his arms around her. She reached up and touched his face, then it feeling natural to do so, guided his mouth to hers. He responded quickly by probing his tongue into her mouth. Her original intent was simply a thank you kiss but once she felt his tongue sucking her tongue into his mouth she felt a sudden sense of panic and pulled back. She pushed herself back away from him and just stared for a moment.

Again, in what apparently was he way of speaking, he mumbled ," I'm sorry." As an apology of misinterpreted intent.

Then she stepped forward and took his hands in her own, pulling him back to herself. They stood for a moment in a silent embrace.

She said, "Yes, this is what I want after today."

She once again guided his mouth to hers and this time it was she who probed her tongue deep into his mouth, exploring its contours now with an ever growing urgency.

They fell back onto the sofa, removing their robes and what little else remained underneath as they began kissing each other with greater passion. His hands moved over her body making her ache with anticipation. He lay her back against the cushions, positioning himself on top of her, using his knees to gently push apart her legs. She reached down and grasped his cock, guiding it into her hot, wet mound. The storm seemed to rage in unison to their frenzied fucking. She clung to his shoulders, her nails digging deep, making him groan with what sounded more pleasure than pain. Then he began to just grind himself into her deeper and faster with each stroke. She wrapped her legs around him urgently pulling him into herself deeper and holding him tight with her most intimate muscles. They could both feel a crescendo of pleasure building with every flash of lightening, every shift of wind as the storm raged around them and now inside them as they both finally came together. Their screams drowned out by the thunderous blasts from the storm.

He lay on top of her spent and sweaty. She gently nudged him directly off her to free her legs now drenched in sweat. He sat back and moved to one end of the sofa and she in the other. Then they just looked at each other for a moment, until he moved back to her and took her face his hands and kissed her again. Only he did not stop kissing her, he made his way down to her breasts. He starting sucking one nipple then the other. She could not believe she was now ready for him again and apparently so was he for her. Still he continued kissing his way down to her belly and then gently pulled her legs apart to give him access to her lower lips. He kissed her, then using his fingers and his lips alternated licking and sucking her lips and her clit. Finally establishing a rhythm of finger fucking her and sucking her clit simultaneously. She could not lay still and writhed in pleasure, muttering obscenities.

She begged him, "Oh, please let's move, I must have your cock in my mouth."

They re-positioned themselves to allow each other access and to continue sucking and tonguing each other into another simultaneous orgasm. Only this time with mouths full,a more silent release.

They lay for a while as the storm seemed to dissipate. The lights came on and now stayed on. She moved to blow out the candles on the table in front of them and as she attempted to stand to go to the other candles, he grabbed her hand, pulling her back down next to him. She was shocked to see the expression on his face, he was enraged and apparently at her. They had just finished pleasuring each other and in a way she had not experienced in such a long time she was now confused at his anger until he spoke with not only anger in his voice but with a craziness in his eyes. He clutched her hand with an amazing strength and got up into her face close enough for her to feel the spittle of his now screaming incoherence splatter her face.

In her terror her only concern was with herself and she did not comprehend what he was saying but for a few words, he said, "You whores are all alike."

She was in fear of her life as she was now being pushed back down into the sofa with both of his hands, one on the wrist to the inside of the sofa and the other on her opposing hip. Her outside hand being free she searched desperately for something, anything to help her and felt the umbrella on the floor where he had dropped it earlier before there impassioned coupling of just a few moments ago. She swung it around and got the tip up underneath him, jabbing his chest just below his heart, now screaming at him to stop. His response was to take both his hands and squeeze them around her throat. Choking she drew her knees up under his hips with the umbrella tip still at his chest. She pushed with all her might and flipped him back his hands still around her throat. Sliding off the sofa they fell back down onto the floor with him now underneath her. Only as his hands loosened their grip and fell away from her throat did she realize he was now still.

His eyes open, lids flickering, he mumbled," It was the last anniversary present."

That was now the implement of his death. In the course of the tumble to the floor and with her weight behind it the tip of the umbrella pierced his chest and ruptured his heart. He was dead in a matter of moments.

She struggled to get off of him and stood clumsily to her feet. She dropped the umbrella and crying hysterically walked around the sofa intending to go she knew not where. As she passed through the room blinded by her tears, she was stopped short by an intense pain on her left ankle. Hurriedly wiping the tears from her eyes to see the source of this agony she saw the largest rat she had ever seen in her life gnawing on her flesh. She screamed in terror which seemed to serve as a dinner bell for the remainder of the rat's mates. The rats swarmed over her as she fell forward, helplessly screaming, the rats tearing her skin, consuming her in tiny bites as slowly she lost consciousness.

There were hundreds of rats brought out by the storm and that night they feasted well upon not one but two bodies. The storm worsened overnight with more lightening. The house was struck several times and burned to the ground. The fire consuming whatever remained of the doomed lovers. Their story never to be told or understood.

The odd thing was the umbrella was found mostly intact several days later by the clean up crew. The words engraved on the handle still readily apparent.

"To my dearest love."