And the Rain Came Down

I got a call from an old minister friend tonight, concerned about the latest hurricane headed my way. I assured him I see this every year. Every hurricane season, the news starts spewing notions of panic, telling us to board up our houses and head out of state for safety. It worked the first few times. After a while, I realized it was just hype. Either the hurricane would slow its destructive path as it hit land, or it would veer out to the ocean, never to be seen again. From time to time, we’ll get a bad storm, but usually, it’s just overblown and a waste of time and effort.

He graciously offered his house as a safe haven if I wanted to evacuate, but I reiterated that I’d be fine, just as I had been all the other times. After I hung up the phone, I turned on the weather channel to make sure things were still alright. The broadcast was so dull that I nodded off.

When I awoke, I heard a commotion outside that startled me. There were sounds that I did not recognize. I looked down, and there was water at my feet, streaming in from the front door. One of the windows in the back of the house had been broken. The wind was rough. It sounded like the shingles were being ripped from my roof.

I peeked outside and saw my neighbors wandering around in the dark. I wondered why they weren’t using flashlights. Fools. I went to grab my flashlight but could not locate it.

I headed outside and yelled, “What are y’all doing?”

“Haven’t you heard?” A neighbor asked. “It’s all true! We should have taken this more seriously!”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, but he kept going, ignoring me.

The water out in the street washed over my feet. Maybe this was a bigger deal than I thought.

A stranger walked by and asked, “What are you doing, man? Come on! If we don’t make it before they take off, we’re going to die!”

The stranger’s intensity threw me into a panic. I started to follow along near him. Others trudged along beside us the further we went. After some time, we became quite a mob, sloshing through the water, which was now almost to my knees. This was serious. It was hard to walk. We had to keep going. We had to make it.

“How much farther?” I asked the stranger.

“We’re getting close!” He said.

“What are we getting close to?” I asked.

“You don’t know? The Ark. Noah was right. The rain is here, the flood has started. If we don’t get to that ark, we are going to perish.”

The raindrops grew heavier, like lead bullets from the sky. Our pace increased. It was clear; we were all in a race to get to that boat. Maybe if I got there soon enough, there would still be room for me. The water was now above my knees.

We all grew quiet, but our hearts were crying out. We didn’t have much to say. I began remembering all the things that Noah had said. He had warned us. He had warned me. I remember laughing in his face and dismissing him as old and senile. He had been working on that stupid boat for years and years. Who knew he wasn’t actually crazy? It’s not fair.

Running through water this deep was getting difficult. I found it hard to breathe. People around me were gasping for air because it was so taxing. I began to hear despair. Some were whimpering and crying.

I heard a commotion up ahead. It didn’t sound good. I turned the corner to where the Ark had always been. I gasped. Years and years, it had been right there. Now it was gone. I glanced at the horizon, and there it was, sailing away.

I tried to keep it together. The water was now above my waist. People around me were screaming. There was no way for me or anyone to make it out to the Ark. Heart-wrenching earth-shattering wailing was all about me. It was over.

I looked for high ground; maybe I could find a place high enough to be safe.

I heard a train off in the distance; an ambulance screeched by. The static of traffic on a nearby highway washed down to me. The modern sounds pulled me from my nightmare.

I checked my feet. They were dry. The windows in the back were fine. I didn’t hear any wind or shingles ripping from my roof.

I peeked outside. I swear I saw that stranger wave as he walked by. Across the street, my neighbors were boarding up their front windows in anticipation of the storm.

The dream seemed so real. I had some things to work out. I called my friend to see if his offer still stood.

Author’s Note

This story was inspired by the song “And The Rain Came Down” by Chuck Girard. I remember hearing this song when it was ten or so. It has always made an impact on me. It gives a whole new meaning to "missed the boat" or perhaps reiterates what that phrase means to begin with. Chuck Girard is probably better known for the songs "Sometimes Alleluia", "A Love Song", or "Little Country Church", but this one is probably my favorite.