Speak Rain

by P. Edward Auman

  ~~~

  Having grabbed his coat and locating his pack towards the edge of the flat spot towards the drop to the climb below, Daniel found that the soaking he’d received was not all that uncomfortable. The deluge from the heavens had stopped with his command to rush, but the moon was still hidden and it remained dark. If he were to be asked or gave a guess he would suggest the temperatures were in the comfortable 70s, or at least in the 60s. In truth the temperature in the meadow had dropped below 40 degrees. Something in him was changing in regards to the water, and though he did place his coat back around his shoulders, he felt he really didn’t need it.

  As he prepared to start hiking up the east side of the stream again, he muttered to himself a little bit and wondered what exactly was going on. His enemy was clearly a man. But he was a supernatural man at best, not a ghost or even a soul who had died and left body in the earth, but a spirit of some kind who somehow managed to maintain his grasp on life, physically effecting the world around him. Maybe, thought Daniel, he’s sort of evolved into something more. But he felt there must be a spiritual side to the difference between the two of them as well, particularly since the shaman would have started out as a sort of holy person in the cliff dwelling. At least that was the fairly solid conclusion he chose to stand on at that moment.

  Above the meadow area the forest closed in around the increasingly sharply inclined V’ of the valley floor. It became dark with the canopy even more so than the meadow without moonlight. The stream represented the whole of the bottom of the valley as the elevations continued to rise and Daniel struggled to maintain balance with the sharp hill to his left. For a short time he tried following the dwindling stream from the west, simply stepping over the small bubbling flow. Eventually though, Dan ended up splashing his boots through the stream itself. The steep sides and the very dense collection of scrub oaks standing beneath the pines and other evergreens became too much to move through, though his confidence in his path grew with every step. A transition from canyons and swallows carved by runoff and small rivers like the stream he followed rose in front of him. The pitch of the mountainside changing from a difficult climb through the valley to a near cliff face in front of him told him he was very near the spring.

  Finally the last opening in the forest came into view. Daniel knew it when he saw it. There was a final eight foot climb up another rocky outcrop, but right in the center the little stream burbled off the top of it and fell forming the path he’d just trekked. It was clear there was no more valley left above him and indeed granite boulders and sharp faces jutted out on either side of him.

  The landing he found himself in had just opened enough for him to pace about four or five wide steps in either direction of the stream. He set down the pack and after a moment removed and stored his coat in the pack as well. Using one of the flashlights was tempting, but he knew Rachel was just above him. He felt it. He could practically smell her wonderful natural aroma, distinct from the heavier, detritus smell of the forest in which he presently stood.

  But that meant He was there as well. It wasn’t more than a few seconds, but it seemed like minutes to Daniel as he stood there waiting and trying to get a feel for what was likely to happen once he popped his head over the ridge and struggled to stand up upon the flat above. Posturing somewhat to reassure himself in his confidence he stood hands akimbo and looking up to the source of the fall of water in the middle of the rock outcrop when the shaman addressed him for the last time.

  “Um pitu?” the shaman said in a gruff and full voice. Then he laughed as he had in the meadow landing below. “Good.”

  English! Daniel’s mind exploded. The possibility of communicating and perhaps persuading the shaman had just opened itself up to him in full glory. I can talk to him!

  Daniel placed his hands to the rocks on the west side of the stream and began climbing. There were enough hand and footholds it was a quick climb and he soon stood at the edge of the rocky outcrop staring into the clearing. He had arrived. A small pool flowed into a short run of a stream which then fell over the outcrop and began its long journey down through the valley through which Dan had just risen.

  It took a moment for Daniel’s eyes to adjust to the scenery around him. This landing was a good deal wider than what he’d expected, very much like the meadow, only without grasses and smaller growth. There was a break in the canopy but no moon shone. Very tall spruces, pines and cedars mingled with a patch of quaking aspens that seemed to span out far to the east and were just beginning to turn the yellow Dan would have expected in the fall, surrounded him entirely. Aside from the small pool of water the rest of the ground had a collection of leaves, needles and small branches rotting into the soil that begat them in the first place.

  There along the back of the clearing, in the shadow of the first line or two of trees loomed the shaman. He was pacing through the forest, carrying his staff and eyeing Daniel all the while. A glimmer of light opened a few trees beyond where the shaman was pacing and he could then see as the shaman turned to walk back the opposite direction a set of teeth gleaming in a wicked grin. The shaman laughed again, yet refused to step into the clearing. The light that shone seemed to land upon a small figure a good fifty yards into the forest. It was as if a spotlight were highlighting Rachel huddled up against a boulder taller than he himself stood. Dan could not tell if Ray was conscious or what.

  “Why did you come?” the shaman asked as he stopped moving.

  Daniel steadied his feet and prepared for only things he could imagine. He was not sure what to expect, but he knew the shaman was awaiting a real answer.

  “I came to bring Rachel back home!” he called out.

  The shaman started strutting again. He toyed with the staff as he moved and used it at times to brush aside branches. It was as if he was considering Daniel’s answer.

  “Where is home? She does not belong to you,” the shaman challenged.

  “And she doesn’t belong to you either!” Daniel hollered back.

  The Shaman stopped his pacing back and forth and withdrew backwards into the forest slowly towards Rachel.

  “Then come, rescue her,” the shaman said in a lower voice. But he chuckled just the same after speaking the words.

  Daniel started to move around the small rippling pool, the raindrops increasing upon the surface and wetting his already-drenched clothing further. The shaman’s shadow had nearly disappeared into the trees but Dan noticed a movement. The dark soul had propped the staff out to his right side and had raised his left hand towards Daniel and the pool.

  “Rise,” the shaman said, voice intermingling with the thunder again.

  The small pool began to swirl quickly and before Dan had made the short distance around it there stood a towering water spout that moved and blocked his path. Taking a few steps back in defense he also noticed miniature streaks of lightning emulating those in the sky, but which were clearly not in synch with the natural strikes. The spout was alive and began moving towards him. The shaman was going to try drowning him once more!

  Daniel realized he would not be able to escape the spout quickly enough so he planted his feet, lowered his head and raised both hands to the spout. He started to speak a command as he had learned in the meadow before but was swallowed up whole just before he could mouth it.

  For a moment, despair crept upon the lonely mortal wrapped up inside the spout again as it had in the meadow. As it had for the past three months. But his recovery came much more quickly this time. He knew the answer! He could control the water just as the shaman could but he had inspiration that gave him strength as well!

  Thinking of Rachel and the moonlight that bathed her in the distance, Daniel drew his arms up against his chest and then thrust the outward to his sides with force, imaging the water spout bursting from the inside out and thought in his head, away!

  Water and sheet lightning blew away from Daniel in a sweeping one-hundre
d and eighty degrees before him. It moved in a twelve foot wall to either side and into the forest in front of him. He fell to the ground next to the now burbling spring again and his knee drew up into his chest, pressing the air from him and stunning him momentarily.

  “FALL!” the shaman yelled as the wall of water and energy made its path through the forest. He yelled in fury at his lost control.

  Looking up, Daniel could no longer make out the shadow or to where it may have fled. But as the water neared Rachel it dispersed just at the edge of her tiny lighted circle. From afar he could see her raise her head warily and turn towards him. She raised one outstretched hand towards Dan, but before he could respond he was struck by a new attack.

  Icy hail pelted Daniel’s body in waves of unimaginable volume. It struck at him vertically from within the forest, mingling with the rain falling from above. Wind tore through his clothing and coat pushing him backwards. Eight steps forward and then…Daniel fell.