They gathered quickly, rolling in from the vast expanse of sky beyond view. Gray, swirling like smoke from a chimney, saturated with crystalline drops ready to fall on the heads of those without an umbrella. The lonely smell of fresh rain invaded the house through the open windows, striking my brother and me like a slap in the face. Disbelieving, I sniffed the air a few times to make sure I wasn't mistaken. Looking over at Christian I said, “Smell that?” He nodded. We rushed to a window, pressing our faces against the glass. The scent hit us again as we stared ­eagerly at the angry clouds headed our way. Rushing to our rooms for swim trunks, we both knew one thing was certain, and we couldn't wait. It was going to rain.
Pulling on my trunks, I yelled, “Christian, hurry!” I headed toward his room. “Come on!” I shifted my feet impatiently. They stuck to the wood floors in the stifling humidity.
Christian emerged, sporting a frivolous Spiderman swimsuit. He darted to a window to see whether the rain had started. It hadn't, but almost. Once outside, we stared expectantly at the sky as it shifted to and fro. Wind ripped through the trees, scattering frightened leaves. Once again, that lonely smell permeated my nostrils and I became even more skittish about what was coming. A few moments later, something cold dropped on my shoulder, leaving it tingling. My eyes darted across the sky, searching for more.
Next to me I heard my brother gasp, and his hand rose to his cheek, where a single raindrop glistened. I noticed dark spots on the driveway where drops had fallen. It was bound to begin soon, I thought. It couldn't be much longer, could it?
Suddenly, the sky opened up on the two of us, raindrops falling from the churning clouds, surrounding us in a shower of glistening gems shattering on the pavement, our hair, our chests. The rain turned the driveway into a reflecting pool, clouded by boundless ripples, spreading ever ­outward. Steam rose up from the parched asphalt, creating a fog.
Our bare feet splashed in puddles as the rain pounded on us. Normally, we would have scoffed at the notion of dancing in a rainstorm, but we were giddy and acting on impulse.
By now, we were both soaked through, our hair plastered to our heads. I don't think I'll ever be dry again, I thought. But I didn't care. Each drop was so refreshing, we danced across the yard, shouting and laughing.
I made a wild leap into the muddy grass. Standing up, Christian pointed at me and laughed. My chest and face were painted brown, and I had mud caked in my hair. Grinning, I scooped up a double handful and hurled it at him. He turned away and the globs struck him in the back of the head and lower back. I collapsed on the ground, clutching my stomach in a fit of laughter.
After I recovered, I let my head fall back onto the grass. I stretched my arms and legs to their full length so my whole body faced the sky. As the raindrops danced across my arms and legs, I knew the heat wave had passed and I was relieved. I lay there, taking it all in: the cool breeze, the indescribable smell of rain, the soft grass beneath me.
“Nice day,” I said out loud.
After a while, I stood, wiping the mud from my hands. I suddenly remembered Christian. Where was he? How long had I been lying there?
“Christian?” I called. I waited but heard no reply.
“Christian!” I yelled again, louder.
The next thing I knew, I was covered in mud. It hit me in the head from behind, dripping down into my eyes, oozing over my nose, and working its way into my mouth. Wiping it from my lips, I turned to find my grinning brother, hands covered in mud.
Fleeing in mock terror, I ran around our house to the backyard, where I stopped in my tracks. I looked across the river at the fog curling from the dissipating storm. The opaque sky was making way for sunlight to peer through. The ripples lessened, the rain ebbing to a drizzle, but dew drops still dangled from leaves and clung to blades of grass. I watched as the whole world took a deep breath and gently let it out.
I know that what we did will probably seem senseless to anyone but us. But it was fun. It was real fun – the kind that our grandparents had as kids in much simpler times when people weren't so distracted.
Christian walked up beside me, and I tousled his hair playfully. We stared toward the river as the storm clouds galloped off into the distance.