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| ©2009 Harriet Gausman Photo published with the author's permisson |
It was a lovely day, quite
deceitful too considering the tragedy which spread throughout the city. The
Stag Union men had taken over and were ruling with an iron hand. They had
overthrown duly elected representatives and paraded themselves defiantly
through the streets.
After weeks of
intense search, the Council found her, “the time-traveler,” as it was whispered
amongst the people, as they hid her in cellars and basements. “Go, and bring
him back,” the Council said. She feared the worst. He would never agree to come
back. He had been sent away, him and his rain, his shadows. He knew coming back
would change everything. “The city was foggy and misty back then,” they warned
her. She didn’t mind. The rain was nothing but the rain for her. Others feared
it.
Traveling through
time always made her feel dizzy and being on a mission even worse, but she did
not hesitate.
She walked slowly. “Don’t
look left, don’t look right; he’ll come to you,” she thought holding tight to
the umbrella with both hands. It was raining heavily. Street lights seemed to
follow her steps, heels clicking musically. In the dark, a shadow slid along
the wall of the Stag Union where the men were kept under discreet surveillance.
It was him. She stopped, sat on a bench, and waited. Taught by the best, she
knew being patient was vital. The shadow drew closer as the rain got more
intense. She closed her eyes; she was not to see the shadow. He sat next to
her.
“Did you come for
me?”
“Yes.”
“I won’t go.”
“I know.”
“Go back to your time.”
“Yes, with you.”
“Go back, child.”
“I will.”
“You only have a few
minutes left.”
“I know.”
He stood up and
looked at the sky.
“Go now.”
She stood up, eyes
closed, searching for his hand.
“The rain must stay
here…” he said.
“It’s too late for
that. They have crossed. Come with me. We need you.”
“People will die.”
He was right, but there
was no other choice. She found his hand and held on to it, even when he tried
to escape.
“That’s why they sent
me.”
Time traveling made
her feel dizzy, but the mission was accomplished. It was now raining. The sun
had disappeared. “Sit back and watch,” she thought, pulling up the collar of
her sunny raincoat, striped umbrella by her side. One day, one rainy day, she
would be ordered to go back and take him away, but that would be when he had
finished his mission, to “clean” up.
And, believe me, dear
reader, at the end of this rainy story, to “clean” does have quite a
treacherous meaning for some.
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