Childhood Memory

It was hard to get through school that day – as much school as a six year old does, anyway. I just couldn't concentrate. It was storming outside, and I could hear the raindrops beating the roof above my head.

"Mom, can we go out now?" I asked again, popping my head up hopefully.

But of course, I got the answer I'd expected: not until I finished my spelling page. Worried that the water in the street might dry up before I got a chance to go out, I pressed on and worked as hard as I could to finish.

Finally, my sister Kate and I were done – we stood by the front door in the entry way, waiting impatiently for my mom to finish tying on our red rain ponchos.

"I get to be the dog this time." Said Kate. "You're the cat."

I agreed – but not without much whining first. It was a favorite game of ours to go out in the rain and pretend to be a cat and a dog, struggling for survival. We often clambered up on street-parked cars so we wouldn't be swept into the gutters. I have no idea why this amused us, but it did. First, however, we grabbed paper triangles, two Lincoln Log pieces, and two lengths of yellow string. If there was anything better than "cats and dogs", it was making little boats to pull along behind us in the gutters. Of course we had to do what our older siblings did - it made us feel like big kids.

I opened the door and nearly got knocked over with the gust of wind that came with it. Kate and I gathered ourselves up and stepped out, waving to Mom as the door closed.

I grinned when I saw the scene before us – our neighborhood had been transformed. The entire street was flooded – water was climbing up driveways, coating the trees, and pouring down in sheets from the heavy black clouds hanging just overhead. Everything was muted, except for the splashing of the water as it hit pavement. All the color of things seemed to have been washed away with the rain – everything had a gray fog over it. It looked like God had switched from vibrant acrylic paints to gray and green watercolors. If only I could paint that well.

Every once in a while a car would pass, acknowledgeable only by the vague headlights floating through the mist. Light from the streetlamps wavered when the wind changed the direction of the raindrops.

Kate and I spent all afternoon – and part of the evening – in the rain; numb, of course, but we didn't care. I remember thinking that I could have almost swum in the street.

Finally, Mom called us in for dinner. Kate still had her boat but the gutter had eaten mine. That was okay, though, because we took turns with hers after that. We were both cold, but I think I was the only one whose shoe laces were actually frozen stiff.

After taking hot bubble baths and changing into warm clothes fresh from the dryer, Kate and I curled up with hot chocolate and a Disney movie. I was getting a bit of a cold but it didn't matter much. I was cheered by the thought that maybe it would keep raining till tomorrow.