Umbrella

[lovina]

The clouds grew darker as the evening passed. She stood at the window looking at them, questioning them, “When will you give up?” She knew that it wasn’t a good sign; the weather had changed from sixty degrees to a chilly fourty degrees. It meant just one thing to her that he had left home without an umbrella. She cursed herself for being so careless for his health was a constant worry for her.

As the evening progressed, she prayed to the stubborn clouds to stop pouring those drops and spare him from getting wet. She imagined him soaked from head to toe and battled within to reach him and save him from the omen. She couldn’t see him sick and in pain. He would be like a child searching for warmth in her arms and she would wrap him hoping to absorb his heat.

It was quarter to eleven and he wasn’t home yet. She called him, but he wouldn’t answer his phone. The rain heightened its glory and she couldn’t see herself defeated by it. With slippers on like a Greek warrior she leaped from her door with her umbrella to confront the ruthless drops. Her foot almost bare, stomped the waters of the sky hoping to hurt them as much as they had hurt her. She fought her way through the crowd that had just disembarked the ten forty-five train. Walking up the street and through the stairs of the subway she scanned every face through her eyes' panorama for that one face she had come to rescue. He wasn’t there yet so she sat herself at the wet subway bench with her obedient weapon, her umbrella.

The station clerk scanned her wet self trying to judge her intentions at that time and that place where she solely sat with her head moving like that of an owl. He may have feared for her safety at that time of the night. She ignored the stares and the glares and her ears anxiously waited to hear the vibrations of the track. The train stopped at the track elevating her hope, as the doors swished open and the bell rang, her eyes scanned the north, south, east and west entrances searching for that face. She failed to find him. As the batch of arrival emptied the station, her fear restlessly loomed on.

She walked up to the station clerk and asked him, “Is any train delayed from Manhattan?” He replied, “No madam, but are you ok?” She said, “No I am not, my husband is not home yet.” He looked at her, smiled and assured her, “I am sure he will be on the next train.” The next train arrived but her anxious eyes were disappointed again. The thunder echoed like they were in war with her, she gave up to the sound and diverted her steps to the exit. As she walked down the stairs, her ears were locked to the vibrating tracks and another one had opened its doors with that swish and bell, her heart hoped again. She continued her descent till she felt like he was right there behind her.

She turned at once in anticipation; he stood six inches above her screening her like a criminal, looking at her drenched hair and soaking clothes and the faithful umbrella. His eyes were red and hers were moist like dew gleaming with joy. His cold voice startled her within but didn’t move her expression of joy. She hoped to hear love. He angrily asked her, “What do you think you are doing at this hour, all drenched at the station?” Her eyes were overwhelmed by the sound of his voice and his question departed her joyful tears in pain. She wanted to hug him and show him her relief, but he dragged her by her hand and said to her, “Why can’t you be more stupid than you are?”

Speechless, she looked up at the sky as the rain drops fell on those tired eyes and combined with her tears. She smiled at the clouds and looked at her defeated umbrella and back on the street ahead. He walked alone, leaving her by herself to drench in the solemn rain.