When It Rains It Pours

Rain could see her reflection in a puddle. She was waiting to cross the street, but got impatient, so she instead looked down and was unpleasantly surprised to see her own self staring back, those asymmetrically lined eyes shimmering on the shallow surface, a damp reminder of 12 o clock’s showers. She was on her way to meet a friend, well, that’s what she wanted him to be anyway – at this point in time he was a stranger. A stranger sat in the third booth of ‘La Vida Nocturna’, taking sips of a drink he had read about once in an overpriced magazine about dinnerware. It was in the part of town Rain felt out of place in, as though she was being watched and judged, like she was a lost goth who’d just walked into a store exclusively selling sportswear.

He said he wanted to meet there to ‘keep a low profile’, which made no sense at all – it was one of the fanciest bars in the city, the olives on the margaritas were stuffed with gold leaf, the drinks cost more than every one of Rain’s belongings combined. And yes. That’s including her car. She’d worn her nicest pair of cargo pants to try and dress up for the occasion, and the studs on her belt were made of real silver, well, they weren’t, but they may as well have been – who’s going to tell the difference? Probably lots of people, but I’m sure they’d be too impressed by her $17 cargo pants to care anyway. Plus she’d brushed her hair, she hadn’t done that for about two weeks. When Rain was a child, her mother would brush her hair, every single morning - she had to do it herself now, which is probably why it never got done. She’d worn perfume as well, jasmine and lemongrass, the spray bottle struggled to picked up the soft dregs at the bottom of the bottle, but she couldn’t afford to buy a new one. That’s why this meeting needed to go well. It had to.

She’s late. He thought, sat in the third booth of ‘La Vida Nocturna’, he brought his glass up to his freshly chap-sticked lips and took another delicately restrained sip of his drink. He didn’t know if he liked it yet, he was a fan of the tinging fruitiness, but the sour aftertaste left something to be desired. As was tradition when he tried new things, he regretted failing to order his usual, and was reminded of the time he daughter convinced him to order octopus at that Greek restaurant he went to for his birthday. He hated it, but had a nice time nonetheless. He noticed a young woman walk in as his went to put his drink down, he didn’t think she really fit in the setting – hair too messy, clothes too worn. She stood looking confused at the bar, eyes darting from corner to corner as if she were looking for something, looking for someone. He watched as she unenthusiastically ordered a mojito, he knew she didn’t really want it, merely got it because she felt as though she should. He grew concerned as she walked in the direction of his table, was this the person he was supposed to be meeting? He didn’t know her of course, but he could tell she was inexperienced. Disorganized. Fickle.

“You Roman?” She said to him. Her voice was thick. He didn’t like it.

“I am,” he said with reluctance, “does that excite you?” Roman wished he hadn’t worded it like that, wished he’d just left it at those first two words. Not that it mattered. He couldn’t see himself hiring her. Not for this.

“I guess. Can I sit?” She said, whilst taking a seat before he could reply. He would’ve said no. He knew she’d be just like the other young, inexperienced people he’d met within the past month. Eager, but incompetent. Arrogant but without reason to be. Even the way she drank annoyed him, holding the glass with two hands like a small child.

Rain knew she didn’t like mojitos. She got to the counter and panicked, unfortunately forgetting every other drink that had ever existed. She took a sip and was filled with cold regret, rather than that refreshingly minty flavour she was promised.

“What should I call you?” Roman said in a monotone voice, she couldn’t tell if he was deeply uninterested or if that’s just how he always spoke.

“Rain. I’m called Rain.” She was struggling to make eye contact with him. She didn’t know why.

“Ha. It’s raining right now.” He made an apathetic gesture towards the window on the right, then traced a raindrop with his index finger as it ran down the other side of the glass.

“Yeah. That’s why I’m wet.” Rain wanted that to come out like a joke, but she just sounded mean. “So what’s this job you’ve got for me?” She said, in an attempt to shift the conversation into his hands for the time being.

“I need a driver.” He looked down briefly, and then back up at Rain. She expected him to elaborate on that further, only he didn’t, and instead went to take another sip of his unidentifiable drink.

“Oh, ok. Where are you wanting to go?” Rain had done driving jobs before, they were usually simple, rarely any complications. Well. Apart from that one time there was a dead guy in the trunk, but that was a one off.

“Not far. I need to pick something up. Then we’ll drive to mine and it’ll all be done.” Roman was hiding something. Obviously. His ambiguity was intriguing, but also infuriating, Rain still didn’t know if this job was worth it – but she needed to make some kind of profit; she’d just spent $63 on a mojito. And didn’t even drink it. 

“We’re going now. Come.” Roman knew this girl hadn’t a chance at getting through the job, but neither did anyone really. He felt bad about lying to her, but if he told her exactly what she had to there’s absolutely no way she’d even consider it, and he someone to do it. Roman thought it was lucky she was incompetent enough to fail at ordering a drink she liked, for if she’d drank too much she wouldn’t be able to drive at all. But then in retrospect maybe it was unlucky, if she was incapable of driving, he’d have been able to turn her away without feeling too rude. Roman led as they walked out of the bar and into the parking lot, as they got outside Rain sped up a little to walk next to him, meaning that they were now walking side by side. Roman from two hours ago thought it would be a good idea to park his car in the spot furthest from the restaurant, thus he’d have to walk quite far and be forced to do a little exercise. Roman from two hours ago is an idiot, who caused present-time Roman to have to walk the longest stretch in the world side by side someone he does not know, resulting in the most awkwardly painful 42 seconds he’d ever had the displeasure of experiencing in his life.

“Glad it’s stopped raining.” The girl said. Empty statements like these made Roman want to cry, so he didn’t answer, but instead increased his walking pace. As they got closer to the car, he noticed something different about it, He couldn’t tell what was different about it. But he knew there was something. His windows were cleaner.

That was it.

So clean it was like they were hardly there at all.

“Someone’s smashed your windows in.” Roman heard a thick voice say behind him. He walked closer to the car to look in further, but was disappointed to find that she was in fact right. Each seat laden with shards like woodchips at the bottom of a children’s climbing frame. Roman reached a frantic hand through what once was and ripped open the glovebox, fumbling inside it with disconcerted fingers as he turned his neck round to face Rain, who was looking back at him with a concerned yet slightly bored-looking expression.

“It’s gone.” Roman said, his hand desperately rummaging for something that they both knew wasn’t there. Rain wondered if she was supposed to know what exactly he was talking about, she hadn't been paying much attention, and was instead enviously admiring the white leather adorning the inside of his car. With her watchful eyes now brought back into reality, she took a step forward and furrowed her eyebrows, hoping to look concerned rather than angry.

“Is everything OK? What’s gone?” She said, mostly out of nosiness.

Roman removed his hand from the car, and left it by his side. He opened his mouth but closed it quickly, then sighed deeply, each second causing Rain to grow more anxious, this ambiguity becoming much less intriguing, and much more unsettling.

“My gun. And my house key,” Roman swallowed, Rain thought he was holding back tears, “there’s someone out there with a gun, and access to my house.” Roman knew exactly who it was. It was the same person he was planning on ‘picking up’ earlier. Rain tried her best to feel bad for him, but was a little preoccupied dealing with the fact he had a gun in his glovebox, unsurprisingly finding it a bit bothersome. Roman would’ve expected her to, he knew she’d back out when he told her what he was actually paying her to do.

“Is – is there anybody in your house?” Rain asked, she didn’t expect him to have a family, she thought maybe a pet, or possibly a friend turned roommate who didn’t have any other options.

“My daughter. She’s there, alone, I left her alone.” He said, though Rain could barely hear his words through the speed of his breathing. She knew she had to do something, there’d be more pay in it if she saved his kid for sure.

And she didn’t want anyone to die. That too.

She brushed the broken glass off the two seats in the front as if she were brushing dust off a forgotten shelf, and thirteen “ouches” later, was sat next to Roman in the driver’s seat. Broken glass parting gifts bleeding profusely all over Roman’s white-leather wheel.

“Right,” She said as she did what she envisioned as an action movie-esque swerve out of the parking lot, “where,” she pushed her sunglasses up her nose, and brushed those few rogue hairs out of her face, “am I going?”

The drive there wasn’t as bad as Roman expected it to be. Rain tried to make conversation, but stopped when she realized he wasn’t really responding with a particular enthusiasm. Her refusal to obey traffic laws would have worried Roman were they doing the job that was planned, but in that context Roman didn’t mind it, if his mind wasn’t as preoccupied with the obvious he might have even been thrilled.

Roman's universal aversion to panic meant he occasionally tried to ground himself, looking for things he could see, things he could touch, or hear, or smell. He noticed how not one strand of Rain’s hair was the same length, and how she seemed completely unbothered by the fresh blood running indifferently down each hand, finding that almost admirable. He noticed how her eyes were completely glued to the road and the cars ahead, she seemed to be in such an intense state of focus. As though she genuinely cared. Rain noticed how Roman had around $3000 cash resting in his glovebox.

They almost hit someone at one point. An elderly guy. He scrunched his nose at Rain in a way he probably intended to seem threatening, but came across rather like something a snobby eight-year-old might do after being denied a third dessert. It made Rain laugh for around two seconds, stopping shortly after she remembered what she was on her way to.

“We’re here.” Roman said as Rain pulled onto his street. The lights were off in his house. He didn’t know if that was good or bad.

The door was open too.

He had his hand wrapped around the handle before Rain had even pulled up to the curb. He was tempted to just leap out that distressing hole that once housed a window, but knew that would just cause more problems. He urged Rain to stay in the car, planning on running in, grabbing his daughter then driving away as quickly as possible. Rain was good at driving quickly. Better than he had expected.

Rain wondered how old his daughter was. Old enough to be left alone, but young enough to make Roman feel guilty about doing so. Probably about twelve. She watched as his uncoordinated feet forced him through his own front door, crashing into the wall on the left, as if he didn’t even know it was there. She listened as she heard him cry his daughter’s desperate name, the word echoed from ear to ear, on the search for a meaning. She’d kept the key in the ignition, just as Roman had said, her right foot inches away from the pedal. She flinched at a selfishly loud bang coming from inside, her foot causing an almost accidental acceleration.

‘Almost accidental’ in that it wasn’t an accident at all.

Rain had always wanted a car with white seats. And she didn’t even have to pay for this one.