If It Never Rained

A Short Story

If you looked to the east, all you would see was dust and dirt. In all the other directions, even ones with no names, that’s what you would find and see. Dry, cracked, begging ground with tiny shoots of plants, but nothing bigger. Hardly sustainable life. It only rains one day a year, a whole day of water soaking the earth and everything on it. No one works on that day. We’re all home, putting on old clothes so we can stand outside and feel cool, cold water splash over us. The adults carry out buckets and barrels and place them where water can collect so we can use it later. The seeds we carefully plant in the dusty soil get enough water to turn them into shoots so that we can eat or feed to the small animals we keep-then eat them.
“Ezra, care to explain the water cycle?” Mr. Archer asks suddenly.
“Um, yes sir.” I push myself out of the squeaky wooden desk and go to the front board. “Rain starts on the ground. As puddles or in the clothes we lay out to dry. The sun heats up the water and its evaporated into the clouds. But we can’t see the clouds yet. It takes lots of water from puddles and clothes to even make one cloud, so it takes a whole year to build up a rainstorm. Once it falls, it’ll be evaporated again and the cycle will repeat itself.” As I talk, I point to the areas on the crinkly paper that show what I’m talking about.
“Thank you. You’re quite right.”
He goes back up and explains more in depth about it. “Once, when we had oceans on earth, it rained and snowed. Instead of the whole earth being cracked and dry, such things were only common in the desert. Earth was home to rainforests, lakes, ponds, oceans, rivers, streams, glaciers and very common, abundant vegetation.”
We look at him, opened mouthed with awe. Common vegetation? Rainforests? Was that even possible?
“I know you must be very shocked, but once, it rained more than just once a year. There were floods and blizzards. Waterparks, river rides, everything you could imagine.”
“Available water?” One boy shouts out.
“Yes. It ran through pipes and right into your home. And it came in bottles and fountains.”
Our eyes grow big and he laughs. I raise my hand.
“Miss. Ezra?”
“Did they get out of work and school for rain?”
“No, not unless it flooded or it was a lot of snow and the roads were icy.”
People gasp and our eyes grow bigger. Not getting out of school for rain?
“Why?” My best friend, Raya, asks.
“Because rain was common. Snow, in certain areas, wasn’t common or was. But rain-almost everywhere got rain.”
“You must be lying!” Al yelled from the back. “Rain ain’t common! Never was, never has been, never will be!”
Several of his friends nod along with him and Mr. A looks sad. Quickly, the boys stop.
“Rain was common. Every book describes it, every person who lived wrote about it at some point. They complained about it. Little children would complain of not being able to play outside. People your age were upset about having to wear raincoats.”
Unbelief shatters the room.
“How could they?”
“Rains important!”
“Could rain and snow ever become common again?”
“Rains fun, we never complain!”
“We don’t.” Says Mr. A, holding up his hand. “But they did.”