\nIt was never the monsters hiding under the bed. Neither was it the dark of her bedroom when the lights went out. It was never the zombies that could clamber out of the packed earth and find and eat the little girls who played hide-and-seek in the graveyard. It wasn\u2019t any of the things her best friend Clara had divulged to her once as they\u2019d perched on the cobblestone wall that ran around the village. For Evangeline, it was the pitter-patter of raindrops on her head that caused her heart to seize.\n<\/p>\n
\nHer mother, June, would be waiting by the back door, of course, wringing her hands until her daughter arrived, flushed and out of breath from running.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cPraise, God,\u201d she would whisper, before crossing herself. Bustling Evangeline inside, the two of them would then huddle together by the kitchen window, uttering prayers for the clouds to part and sunny skies to bless them once more.\n<\/p>\n
\nSometimes, her mother would berate her for taking the rainless days for granted.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYou haven\u2019t been praying hard enough,\u201d she told Evangeline at the table, their hands still clasped from saying grace. \u201cYou\u2019re not even trying.\u201d\n<\/p>\n
\nSo Evangeline was always careful, after crossing all her fingers and toes, that her last thought before sleep overcame her was that she would awake to the pleasant heat of the sun on her face and the sight of a brilliant blue sky peeking through her curtains.\n<\/p>\n
\nYet although Evangeline deemed herself old enough now to know that zombies and ghosts could never hurt her, as long as she was home before dark, of course, for the life of her she could not explain why they should be so afraid of rain. Indeed, Evangeline had been sodden before when she had once ventured too far from the cottage and the storm had taken her by surprise. All she had felt whilst her mother had bundled her in towels were as if she\u2019d just stepped out of a very cold bath.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cIt doesn\u2019t look so scary from in here,\u201d she\u2019d observed, cross-legged by the fire; not even while it had lashed against the window panes in droves and lightning had crackled across the sky.\n<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWell, you would be a fool not to be afraid,\u201d said her mother.\n<\/p>\n
\nSometimes their garden would be ruined, reduced to a mushy, mulchy mess of sodden foliage. When Evangeline was younger, she used to believe that there were such things as giants that would use the cover of thunder to enter the garden and destroy all the pretty flowers. Her mother never used to tell her otherwise, and so Evangeline still had to scold herself whenever she could\u2019ve sworn<\/em> she\u2019d seen a footprint the size of a dustbin lid left in the soil.\n<\/p>\n \nIt was Monday morning, and Evangeline was peering at one of these very such indentations by the churchyard wall when someone called out to her and Clara. Glancing up, she caught sight of Mr. Reed striding past them on his way to the fields.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI would start making my way home now, girls. You\u2019re too close to the boundary wall when the sky\u2019s looking this murky. That means you, too, sweetheart.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYes, father,\u201d her best friend mumbled.\n<\/p>\n \nEvangeline jumped to her feet, wiping her hands on her skirt.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI don\u2019t know why you try and run off so fast, Eve,\u201d Clara told her as they began making their way back towards the centre of the village, deciding that they would stop by at Mr. Graham\u2019s shop to buy toffee if they hurried. \u201cWe\u2019ve both got caught in the rain so many times now and it\u2019s never hurt us.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nEvangeline hushed her, peering up and down the lane. Old Mrs. Simmons was pruning her roses, but everyone knew that her ears were shot. They passed by her garden and she raised a gnarled hand at them in greeting, lips pulling to reveal a toothless crevasse.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt\u2019s just when you\u2019re out in it for too long,\u201d whispered Evangeline, \u201cor when you go out on purpose. I don\u2019t know what happens to you but all I know is that I don\u2019t want to find out.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nClara giggled, and they stopped in the middle of the path.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSee?\u201d she said. \u201cWhat\u2019s so bad about rain, Eve? It makes everything damp and sometimes it makes the grass really slippery. And you can throw stones in the puddles! Why should we be afraid?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nHuffing, Evangeline readied her best grown-up voice. \u201cBecause that\u2019s what we\u2019ve been told. It\u2019s all we\u2019ve ever known. To run home as soon as the rain starts.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cEve. We both know zombies can eat you. Ghosts can scare you to death. What does rain do?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThey walked in thoughtful silence until they arrived at the shop. Clara went in first, as always, and they went up to the counter, contemplating the shelves of sweet jars behind Mr. Graham in his red-and-white stripy apron. He was already bagging up some liquorice for old Mr. Partridge, the same corduroy trousers flapping about his bow legs. The two of them were conversing quietly, and Evangeline\u2019s ears pricked at some of the words. She felt a gentle nudge at her side, and she turned to see Clara slipping into one of the nearby aisles. She followed, and together, they listened.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cSo what are they saying happened to the poor child?\u201d murmured Mr. Partridge.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThat perhaps she tried to go swimming in the river. My Daisy asked if she could once when we were on a walk near the marshlands, and of course I told her that it was forbidden. It was beautiful weather and I know it\u2019s tempting, especially when it\u2019s as nice as it was on Friday.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh, it was beautiful weather Friday,\u201d Mr. Partridge agreed in a rasp.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnyway, as you make your way further out, the current gets stronger. The girl was probably caught unawares some time Friday afternoon and got swept away.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nMr. Partridge made a noise of anguish.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYes, I know,\u201d said Mr. Graham. \u201cI heard a child calling it The River Fury.<\/em> Some kind of water dragon that is forever angry and tempts children to try and ride it. If they can do it, only then will the waters calm. Something like that.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nIn her pocket, Evangeline clenched her palm around the pound coin her mother had given her for toffee. She remembered it had rained that Friday afternoon.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI thought we\u2019d seen the last of this ten years ago,\u201d said Mr. Partridge sadly, before shuffling out of the shop. Exchanging looks, Evangeline and Clara stepped out from the aisle and approached the counter once more, though Evangeline wasn\u2019t sure either of them were now in the mood for sweets.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou must never try and ride the water dragon,\u201d said Mr. Graham, and they blinked up at him in surprise. His eyes were hard. \u201cUnderstand?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nEvangeline nodded. Besides, neither of them would ever be able to tame a dragon.\n<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \n\u201cMother?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThey had just finished another chapter of Evangeline\u2019s bedtime story. Although Evangeline knew she was much too old for this sort of thing, and she was perfectly capable of reading on her own, it was a nightly ritual that she was certain her mother still enjoyed just as much as she did. It was also a way of distracting the both of them when the rain was beating down outside and it showed no signs of stopping.\n<\/p>\n \nThis particular story was one of Evangeline\u2019s favourites. It was a tale of adventure, and she loved listening to her mother read of distant lands and exotic locales, so far removed from the dreary existence of their little village that she found it hard to believe that there were indeed such other places in the world.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYes, darling?\u201d Her mother got to her feet to slot the book back amongst the others on the shelf.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cClara and I heard that a girl in the village disappeared on Friday. Is that true?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nEvangeline watched as her mother came to perch on the edge of the bed, bypassing her special reading chair. She adjusted the teddy bear that was sat on the windowsill, its stitched mouth coming undone.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYes. Yes, it\u2019s true.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat happened to her?\u201d Evangeline found herself fidgeting with a fraying edge of her blanket, eyes trained on the stray thread.\n<\/p>\n \nFor a moment she thought that her mother had not heard her and was about to ask again, but then, \u201cShe got caught in the rain.\u201d Her voice wavered. She stood, brushing her hands down her pinafore.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThat doesn\u2019t make any sense,\u201d Evangeline whispered.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt doesn\u2019t have to make sense,\u201d said her mother. She was staring out the window, her face sheathed in moonlight. The raindrops that cascaded steadily down the glass cast shadows on her skin, like tears.\n<\/p>\n \nInhaling sharply and blinking as if she had just remembered whereabouts she was, she leant down and pulled the blanket up to her daughter\u2019s chin, patting her shoulder and resting her hand there.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou must promise me again that you will always come straight home when the rain starts. You come straight home to me. You promise?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nEvangeline swallowed, her glass of milk before bed now a bitter taste in her mouth.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI promise.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nWith one last smile, her mother straightened.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhat about the water dragon?\u201d said Evangeline, remembering. \u201cShould I be afraid of that, too?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYes, darling. You must beware that, too. Now, good night. I expect to hear you praying before you go to sleep.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n \n\u201cWhat do you think is this water dragon?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nEvangeline and Clara were skipping down the lane to the pond, laden with bread for the ducks. It had been almost a week since they had eavesdropped on the conversation in Mr. Graham\u2019s shop, and since then, the missing girl had been found in a ditch near the marshlands with water in her lungs.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWho knows?\u201d said Clara. \u201cJust sounds like a load of rubbish to me. It was the younger children who were spouting all that stuff, after all.\u201d She sniffed.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou didn\u2019t ask your parents? Mr. Graham did warn us about it.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhy should I?\u201d Clara shrugged. \u201cI\u2019m already told to be scared of enough things. I don\u2019t want to worry about something else.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThey\u2019d reached the pond, a small pool of water about the size of Evangeline\u2019s garden. It had lily pads and frogs if they were lucky enough to spot one. Evangeline tore off a scrap of bread and threw it to the mother duck and her ducklings, not finding it in herself to smile when they all gathered by her feet.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou know, I have a theory,\u201d said Clara, chewing on a piece of crust. \u201cAnd it\u2019s just a theory, but I\u2019ve been thinking about this for a while now, and I feel like I can trust you enough to tell you.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe\u2019re best friends, Clara!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cEven so. I wasn\u2019t sure if you\u2019d run home and blab about it. Then your mother would tell my mother, and she wouldn\u2019t let me out to play anymore.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cClara\u2026\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAnyway, here\u2019s what I think. Our parents tell us all these things we should be afraid of. Ghosts that come out at night, going past the boundary wall, this water dragon, the rain\u2026 but what if–\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nA low rumble of thunder pulled their gazes skyward. Evangeline could feel her heartbeat in her ears, and she looked to Clara with wide eyes. Her friend sighed.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe\u2019d better make a run for it, then.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe girls scattered the rest of their bread and began dashing back along the twisted, winding roads. The pond was the other side of the village, and Evangeline thought how stupid she was for not sticking close to the cottage on a day like today.\n<\/p>\n \nThe rain began to fall. Evangeline felt her hair and her clothes grow wetter and wetter, and soon she was whimpering not just with the cold but with a gnawing fear that had a hold of her insides. Clara was ahead of her but she could barely make her out, the rain coming down so thick and so fast Evangeline was sure that she would disappear.\n<\/p>\n \nShe grabbed for the cobblestone wall on her left, using it as a guide. With her free hand she attempted to shield her vision, the rain pouring into her eyes. Near-blinded, she let out a gasp as she slammed into Clara, the both of them stumbling. Her friend had stopped.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cClara! What are you doing?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cLook!\u201d she shouted, pointing.\n<\/p>\n \nEvangeline did so, following her gaze, to find that they were directly outside Mrs. Simmons\u2019 cottage. The old lady herself was standing beneath the porch, pruning scissors in hand, and she was gesturing madly at them, her mouth a silent chasm beneath the deafening roar of the rain.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cCome on, then.\u201d Clara pushed open the gate.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo!\u201d Evangeline caught her sopping sleeve. \u201cWe have to go straight home–our parents will worry!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe\u2019re still ages away! You said yourself we can\u2019t be out in this for too long!\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nClara grimaced at her, slipping through the gate and running up the stepping-stone path towards the house. Mrs. Simmons stepped aside to let her through the door before turning to gesture again at Evangeline.\n<\/p>\n \nWith one last sigh, Evangeline darted to follow her. The rain no longer beat down upon her head as she reached the shelter of the porch, and she felt herself threatening to slump with relief as she moved past Mrs. Simmons, finding herself standing in a musty living room that smelt of mothballs and soap.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cYou girls are drenched.<\/em>\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe spoke oddly. Evangeline had noticed this on the few occasions she had been up-close to Mrs. Simmons. Her mother had told her it was because of her ears, how she couldn\u2019t hear her own voice too well, and so the sounds came out strange.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cCome and sit by the fire.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe ushered the two of them over to a flowery loveseat. Evangeline felt herself sinking; the cushions seemed to swallow them up.\n<\/p>\n \nAs the girls huddled there shivering, Mrs. Simmons disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning with two cups of hot, sweet-smelling tea. Evangeline sat there with it clasped between her clammy hands, not yet having the strength to lift the beverage to her lips. Mrs. Simmons then collapsed into an armchair herself, peering at the two of them.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cAre you girls alright?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe\u2019re fine.\u201d Clara nudged Evangeline in the ribs; she nodded her agreement.\n<\/p>\n \nMrs. Simmons didn\u2019t look convinced, but took a sip from her own cup, staring into the flames that licked the hearth.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMrs. Simmons?\u201d said Clara. Then, louder, \u201cMrs. Simmons?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe old woman jerked.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh, yes, dear?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe both want to know\u2026 we feel that we should<\/em> know\u2026\u201d Clara paused as Evangeline grabbed her arm, shaking her head. She could feel Mrs. Simmons\u2019 pale blue eyes on them from over the rim of her teacup.\n<\/p>\n \nClara pulled herself free and Evangeline receded back into the cushions.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWhy should we even be so afraid of rain, Mrs. Simmons?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nThe question hung in the stale air. Mrs. Simmons\u2019 eyes dropped to the carpeted floor, and she took a deep, ragged breath that seemed to give her some trouble.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cBack when I was a child, I had a friend, Ruth,\u201d she told them. \u201cShe lived just down the bottom of the lane from me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nShe gestured towards the window, before a chuckle wracked her chest.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cShe was a headstrong little lady. I always much felt like I was her lackey, always following her, secretly envying her.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nEvangeline glanced sideways at Clara, but her friend seemed to be enraptured.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOne day, we decided we would go on an adventure. We passed the boundary wall to go and play in the river by the marshlands. We followed it for what felt like miles. I wanted to turn back but, well, you can imagine what Ruth might have said about that.\u201d Smiling, she watched the fire. Evangeline realised that it was dying.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWould you like me to put on some more logs for you?\u201d she asked.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cOh, that\u2019s alright, dear. I was getting rather warm, anyway.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nEvangeline sunk back into the loveseat, avoiding the frown Clara shot her for interrupting the story.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cThen it started to rain,\u201d murmured Mrs. Simmons, her gaze fixed on the rapidly diminishing flames. \u201cIt came so quickly, and neither of us saw any danger. We were just children, after all. Anyway, I managed to get out. I got lucky, I suppose\u2026 I tried to reach for her from the bank\u2026 but she\u2019d already taken on too much water. I watched as she slipped beneath the surface and never came back up. The water dragon took her.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nHer crooked hands were trembling. Evangeline and Clara shared an uneasy glance. At the bottom of the hearth, the embers glowed their last before finally growing dark.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cIt stole my friend from me. And it felt cheated that it couldn\u2019t have me, too. It lies in wait for me, to this day. The rain gives it the power to search for me, for the river to break its banks and seek me out. Do you know how many floods this village has had over the years? The last was before your time, anyway. Now, our children are warned to run straight home when the rain starts. To keep them safe. I thought it had ended. For ten years, I thought it was over. But then that little girl went missing and\u2026 it\u2019s all because of me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nMrs. Simmons hunched over herself and began to cry. The girls shifted on the loveseat. Clara opened her mouth, but the words seemed to die on her tongue. Evangeline glanced out the window; the rain had stopped.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe really must be getting back now, Mrs. Simmons,\u201d she said, setting down her untouched tea. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she realised her mistake.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI can show you if you like.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019m sorry?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nMrs. Simmons raised her head. Something had changed in her eyes; they were focused, steely, glinting.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI can show you where it happened on the river. It\u2019s not too far to walk.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cMrs. Simmons, did you hear me?\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nClara sat up straight. \u201cI want to see.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nEvangeline whirled on her. \u201cClara, what are you doing?\u201d she breathed. \u201cEveryone will be waiting for us, my mother is probably terrified–\u201d A lump formed in her throat, her eyes prickling. \u201cWe have to go home.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nHer friend shrugged. \u201cDo what you like. But I need to see this. I\u2019m going.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nA smile stitched itself across Mrs. Simmons\u2019 face. Evangeline stared between the pair of them, her mouth open.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cCome with us, dearie,\u201d the old lady said, pushing herself to her feet. \u201cIt won\u2019t take long, I promise.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cNo.\u201d Evangeline stood. \u201cNo, I really must go back now.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nMrs. Simmons cocked her head at her, like a bird. \u201cShe\u2019s scared, bless her.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI\u2019ll be fine, Eve,\u201d Clara whispered. Evangeline turned to her, hot tears running down her cheeks now. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to worry about me.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWell, if you\u2019re sure, Evangeline,\u201d said Mrs. Simmons from behind her. \u201cYou be careful, now. And tell your mother I said hello.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cI will.\u201d\n<\/p>\n \nEvangeline stepped out of her reach. With one last imploring look at Clara, met with a determination she had seen so many times before and likely followed, she headed towards the door. The latch was stiff beneath her fingers. With a dull thunk<\/em> the door swung open, and she looked behind her into the living room. Both her best friend and the old lady were staring at her; Mrs. Simmons had a hand on Clara\u2019s shoulder.\n<\/p>\n \nOutside, the sky was bright, and the ground smelt fresh and sharp. Pulling the door to, Evangeline ran all the way home.\n<\/p>\n \n \nClara was found dead in a ditch the next morning with water in her lungs.\n<\/p>\n \nEvangeline repeated the story over and over again. She and Clara had been feeding the ducks by the pond. Then, when the rain had started, they\u2019d tried to run home but had been forced to take shelter at Mrs. Simmons\u2019 cottage.\n<\/p>\n \nThe old lady had vouched for the pair of them and had also filled in the details where Evangeline could not, that Clara had said goodbye not long after her friend, and that that was the last she\u2019d seen of her.\n<\/p>\n \nFrom then on, as Evangeline had expected, she was no longer allowed out of her mother\u2019s sight. Not that she would have wanted to. And it wasn\u2019t as if she had a friend to go out and play with, anymore.\n<\/p>\n \nAs she and her mother made their way down the lane towards Mr. Graham\u2019s to buy some necessities, Evangeline caught sight of Mrs. Simmons pruning her roses. It took a moment for the senile woman to hear them, yet when they passed by and her pale eyes landed on Evangeline, she gave her a gummy smile, her finger raising toward her pinched lips.\n<\/p>\n \nThere was a rumble of thunder overhead.\n<\/p>\n \n\u201cWe\u2019d better hurry,\u201d said her mother, pushing her daughter along.\n<\/p>\n \nEvangeline knew she was right. There was a lot to be feared in this village. And she knew what Clara\u2019s theory had been that day. She only wished that she had come to the same realisation sooner.\n<\/p>\n \nAt least she knew now. Ten years old was as good an age as any to start growing up.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It was never the monsters hiding under the bed. Neither was it the dark of her bedroom when the lights went out. It was never the zombies that could clamber out of the packed earth and find and eat the little girls who played hide-and-seek in the graveyard. It wasn\u2019t any of the things her …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":106682,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,19864],"tags":[19863],"class_list":["post-137407","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-tcl-32-summer-2019","tag-the-colored-lens-32-summer-2019","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137407","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/106682"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=137407"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137407\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":137408,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137407\/revisions\/137408"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=137407"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=137407"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=137407"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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