Rainy Days

• Julia Mckee, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2014

It should’ve been a rainy day on a day like today.

Today was the day I said goodbye, today was the day I waved him off.

Today was the day I watched Father go to war.

Surely a day as sad as this should be rainy, not sunny. It should be gloomy and dark and grey, with sad clouds releasing the tears from inside them down onto the earth, not cheerful with the sun smiling high and the fluffy clouds dancing along the blue dome above us.

“Don’t cry sweetie, he’ll be back before you know it.” Mother says kindly and I realise with a start that tears are rolling slowly down my face, creating little tracks upon my cheeks.

I feel my face heat up as I hurriedly wipe the tears away. Mother is right, Father is coming home. There is no need to cry at all. With that, I turn around and make my way to the car, Mother following close behind.

# # #

It’s another sunny day when I hear the news.

“I’m sorry” the nameless man dressed in uniform says to Mother, “But your husband has gone missing in action.”

As the news reaches her ears, she falls on her knees and starts sobbing, and the man can do nothing but watch in solemn silence.

I know it’s wrong, but I don’t cry. I don’t know why I don’t cry, I know I should, I know I’m supposed to, but I just can’t. It’s like I don’t feel anything.

I slip outside and sit in the garden while the sunshine warms my body. A bird twitters in a tree branch somewhere and I find myself asking the same question I asked last time I watched Father leave.

How could a day as sad as today be so bright?

# # #

It’s raining when I get home that day.

The low, angry rumble of thunder echoes in the air and my mood matches that of the sky.

I make my way up the steps and to the door, finally sheltered from the rain and no longer forced to hold up an umbrella against the freezing wind.

My numb fingers fumble around in my pocket for the keys and it takes me three tries to actually get it in the lock, but finally, I open the door.

As soon as my eyes land on him I launch myself into his arms and hug him as tight as I can, trying to tell if this is a dream or if it’s real life.

Eventually, we part and I look into his tired but happy eyes.

I was wrong all that time ago when I thought rainy days were the days that bad things were supposed to happen.

From that moment on, my favorite day of all was no longer the day full of cheerful sunlight, my favorite day was the day filled with the cloud’s tears.

Because that was the day my father finally came back home.