RAIN GIRLS

Indra had always loved the rain. At twelve in the afternoon, she was glued to the living room windows, sad-faced. Just five minutes before, her house mother, Mrs. Dweedle, had closed the window, forbidding Indra from being so close to the rain.

She had scolded Indra sternly, “Don’t go making a plaything of the rain!”

She had just caught Indra with her hand out through the window fondling the light cold drizzle which was the remnants of a thunder storm. If Mrs. Dweedle had walked in just a minute earlier, she would have blown her top to see what Indra had been doing. Indra had gotten up and sat on the window ledge, facing the living room. She had leaned back dangerously, with her eyes closed and tongue out. Something inside her wanted to taste the rain. She had only jumped down from the ledge where she was precariously perched when Mrs. Dweedle had walked in to scold her.

Indra, dejectedly dragged herself to the soft brown coach and flounced down into it. She hugged the plush puppy beside her and sobbed softly. She could not understand what was so bad about the rain. She began imagining all the wonderful things she could be doing in the rain.

A musical rap on the window drew her to it once more. She thought it might have been the lone willow tree outside the window but she heard the rhythmic knock three times. It was just too melodic not to be deliberate.  As she rubbed her eyes to make them see clearer through the rain-blurred window, she could not believe what she was seeing. There were three girls giggling in hushed whispers below her first floor window. They pointed to her  and smiled at each other. They all beckoned her with their hands to come down. She wanted to join them.

The rain was only dewing now but Mrs. Dweedle’s scolding was still fresh in her mind. She looked behind her unconsciously. She cracked the cold wet window open and relished the feel of the water-stained wind on her face.

The girls all chorused in unison, “Join us Indra.”

Then they ran off in the direction of the woods making a pitter patter musical melody with their tiny feet.

Indra stood by the window aghast. All three girls looked just like her. Indra wondered if she would ever see them again.

As she was about to close the window, she heard the sing-song plea again, “Join us Indra.”

“How do they know my name?” Indra wondered not for the first time.

She could bare it no longer; she had to follow them. She went to see what Mrs. Dweedle was doing. Mrs. Dweedle was in the kitchen cooking and telling stories to the younger house girls. Indie slid the window open a little more carefully and silently. She put one leg out the window first and stuck it in a decorative groove in the wall. The rest of her body followed. She hesitated only for a second before hopping on a nearby limb of the willow tree. The limb bent down before flying up again. If bent lower on its second trip down which allowed Indra to fall to her feet with practiced ease.

Indra ran as fast as she could in the direction of the woods. She could still hear both the sing-song murmurs of the strange girls as well as their rhythmic pitter patter feet. She ran right into them before she realized how close they were. They all fell laughing, except Indra. She was too amazed looking into their clear eyes. Their eyes were the only features they had which were different from hers. Their eyes shone with glossy clear wetness.

She was in such a trance, she was barely able to stutter, “w-who- who are you.”

The never stopped smiling as they answered like synchronized singers.

“Rain.”

“Rain.”

“Rain.”

“Your names are all the same? Rain?” Indra asked still barely audible.

They all looked at each other mischievously and answered in unison, “Yes, and we came here for you.’

They ran off deeper into the woods before Indra could ask anything else. They threw a hypnotic. “Join us Indra” as they half ran, half skipped away.

Indra did not realize how wet she was until she got up and slipped on her wet house dress. She wiped her muddy hands into either side where her pockets were. She tried to run but her feet were bare and slippery. She followed them anyway. She walked-run for what felt like hours and they were always gaily dance-running ahead of her.

When they got to a dark part of the woods that she had never been before, they slowed down and let her catch up. Their eyes had frozen over and they were no longer singing. The woods were eerily quiet. Indra was confused. The first girl pushed her, then the second, then the third. They laughed at her confusion and kept pushing her. Her feet were already slippery and now she felt as if buckets of water were being poured on her head. Rain, Rain and Rain kept pushing her backwards till she could take no more.

Indra screamed, “Stop!”

They did. Then, they looked like the kind girls they were before. They looked down at their hands as if they were sorry. Indra relaxed.

When Rain, Rain and Rain looked up, their frozen expression was back, “Just once more please.” They chorused.

They all pushed Indra one last time, all together with all their strength. Indra was lifted from the ground ten feet into the air before she fell. She kept falling and falling. She could not hear herself scream. All she heard was rushing water like a waterfall. She was falling through utter darkness.

Mrs. Dweedle rushed into the living room and grabbed Indra from the floor. Indra was drenched in sweat, writhing as if she were fighting with a ghost.

“Indra, wake up baby,” Mrs. Dweedle cooed as she smoother Indra’s wet air.

Indra opened her eyes as she gratefully recognized that she were in her own home. She got up and checked the window. It was still closed. She listened for a full minute to the melodic wrapping of the willow tree outside.

Indra ran back to Mrs. Dweedle and cried in her arms, “I won’t make a play thing of the rain ever again.”

“I know baby,” Mrs. Dweedle soothed.

Indra slept in Mrs. Dweedle’s room that night.