by Christine Henderson
Jarred glared at the darkening sky. Would his hopes be blown away again like wind-swept clouds? Weeks had passed since the last rains and the crops were withering.
Lorraine handed him a glass of water. “Wished I could pour this out and make it a flowing river.”
Jarred wiped the sweat off his face and gulped down the water. “How naïve we were in our plans! I’m tired of constantly wondering if we’ll have enough water.”
“We’ve had some good growing seasons.”
Kicking his boot into the dry dirt he said, “It’s barely been adequate. Just one more good rain and we’ll be able to get through till harvest. After that I’m gone.”
“You’re really going to do it?” she asked sadly.
He lifted her chin up. “Honey, I know this was your dream, but it’s not working.”
“But we’ve always lived here?”
“We’ll get through it. You’ll see.”
Rolls of thunder brought the first teasing drops of rain which were followed by a steady flow. Together they stood in the rain with their arms extended as if trying to personally contain the water.
After the rains, Jarred inspected the crops. “That should do it. If the weather stays as expected, we’ll get a full harvest. Then we’re done!”
“You sure you’re making the right decision?”
“Nothing could change my mind. I don’t ever want to worry about water again!”
“But joining the navy?”
“Can’t think of anything better than knowing water will be all around me!”
No comments:
Post a Comment