What Falls

The little girl ran around as the water fell from the sky above, her giggling almost uncontrollably. Her dog Skip playfully chased her as they both splashed in a muddy puddle on her family’s front lawn. “Oh, Trish!” her mom yelled, exasperated at the huge mess she was making on her clothes. She and Tricia’s dad sat dry on the covered porch, smiling as they watched on from their respective rocking chairs.

“Trish… Trish!!”

“Oh, yeah?” Tricia’s eyes returned her to the present, where Jessica was staring at her, waiting for her response.

“I said, can you please get those orders out for me??”

“Ah, yes, I’m sorry,” she answered. “I’ll get them right now!”

Tricia mentally smacked herself for daydreaming yet again—and on the job, of all places. Yet, she especially couldn’t stop her mind from going there today—the day when she was that much closer to finally be able to afford a dream for which she had been saving up for years.

After she brought the dishes out to the customers, her mind briefly returned to that rainy day all those years ago. She couldn’t believe it had been 57 years since that six-year-old girl had pranced around on that lawn, enjoying the shower from above without a care in the world.

If only she’d known.

On the other hand, even if I had, she pondered, would it have made any difference? Clearly, I was already really enjoying myself then, so nope, probably not. And I definitely wouldn’t have been able to change anything…

“Here you go,” said her last customer as he unknowingly interrupted her thoughts and handed her seven dollars.

Tricia’s eyes widened, her face overcome with joy. The man was taken aback, considering the tip he’d given her, but he also was appreciative that she seemed so appreciative. And she was.

“So, did you crack the big threshold tonight?” Jessica asked Tricia as she was closing out the register later that night.

“Yes! I did!! Thanks to the cheap older gentleman towards the end of my shift. He gave a $7 tip on a $125 total, but I don’t even care. I could’ve kissed him!! I was so psyched.”

Jessica laughed. “Wow, $7? ‘Cheap’ is right. He knows he was wrong for that!”

“Hey, it might as well have been $7,000. It puts me right where I need to be.”

Jessica smiled. “Well, that’s good. I’m really happy for you, Trish. You deserve it.”

Tricia returned the smile. “Thank you, Jess. I’m so excited.”

“So! When are you going?!? I’m surprised you haven’t already left!”

“Ha ha, I wish. I have to close out tonight, and remember, I’ll still need this job when I get back. But you better believe, I’m packing my bags as soon as I get home and hitting the road first thing in the morning!!”

Jessica chuckled. “That’s wonderful. You’ll have to tell me all about it. I’ve heard really great things but have yet to be able to afford it, myself.” She paused for a moment as she tilted her head in thought. “I actually think you might be the first person I know who has done it, so be sure to take lots of pictures, and don’t leave out any of the details when you get back!!”

The dry heat smacked Tricia in the face so hard as she left the building, it felt like an assault. Having been so excited to end her shift and get home, she suddenly realized she’d forgotten to take off her clothes before coming outside.

She looked around, placed her tote bag on the nearby curb, pulled off her shirt, and stepped out of her pants, making her shoulders, chest, stomach, back, and legs the next wretched victims of the heat’s violence.

Still. Better, she thought.

Barely better, but better.

She surveyed her surroundings again before picking up her bag. She wasn’t worried about anyone harassing her as she walked as an older woman at 2 in the morning in just her bra and panties—it was a scene much more common than seeing someone more traditionally clothed—she just didn’t want to risk anyone swiping her bag with her precious accumulated prized earnings of the night. Her tips, including those precious final seven singles.

She needed those seven singles.

After making it to her car safely, she read the temperature on the dashboard: 108°F. Tricia exhaled in exasperation and then turned on her headlights to illuminate the road ahead.

That next morning, she almost tripped darting out of bed. After a quick shower, she put on her comfy bra, underwear, flip-flops, and black shades, and slathered on her 50 SPF sunscreen lotion. With her packed suitcase and big thermos full of ice cubes, she raced out the front door.

As she sat the suitcase alongside the several cases of water—mostly her monthly allotment from the government—in her trunk, she thought again about how much she wished she could afford tint on her windows. It was a luxury only the wealthy could afford. She would have to save up many more years, sacrificing other luxuries such as this trip, to even come close.

She grabbed one of the water bottles, and then set out on the 15-hour-long drive, figuring she would split it up over two days. Soaking her handkerchief with the dew quickly accumulating on her forehead, Tricia took a sip of water and read the dashboard temperature: 112° F. 

The ice cube she pulled from her thermos practically disappeared as soon as it hit her skin. Its remnants drizzled down her brow, barely grazing her nose before it plopped onto her bra. That drop was joined by what little was left of the cube, as she slowly rubbed it on her neck and chest, letting the rest melt entirely.

“I know we’ve been suffering a bit out here, folks,” said the radio meteorologist. “…With the highs in the 130s the last few weeks, but fret not, reprieve is coming! You might be able to cover up a bit more than usual, as we can soon expect single digits! And maybe even as low as 98!! Starting just next week.”

“Ah, thank God,” Trish exhaled and dapped her forehead again.

Trying to keep her eye on the road as much as possible, her mind couldn’t help but drift off to where it had been tens of thousands of times before—imagining what it will be like, for the first time in all those years. She could see it, feel it, smell it, even taste it. 

It was a few hours before she took another sip of water, always trying to ration what she had, not knowing when she’d get more. She eyed the dashboard which now read123°F. What little breeze had helped her save gas for the first part of the trip had gone completely. She finally rolled up the windows and turned on the air conditioner.

Two days later, Tricia car pulled into the parking lot of the building which displayed giant blue letters:

The Oasis: An Interactive Experience Museum.

She couldn’t believe it. After so many years and so many sacrifices—financial and otherwise—she was finally here.

After dragging her suitcase out of the trunk and towards the building, she soon encountered a smaller sign, in black letters, which read: Please do not bring any bags or luggage inside. Dress as needed before you enter.

Before you enter?!? she thought. That can’t be right. What are they trying to do, roast us?! That should be illegal. 

Still, she hurried back to her car, pulled from her suitcase the single shirt and pair of pants she’d brought, and put them on. Then she began excitedly sifting through to find the most important items—those which she’d ordered months ago and had been resting comfortably in her suitcase mostly since.

And there it was. The pretty, pink raincoat with white and yellow polkadots throughout that she had tried on and paraded in front of her bathroom mirror like a little girl in her mommy’s dress clothes nearly every day since it arrived.

Nestled under it were her also-“new” matching rain boots—additionally gently broken-in, thanks to her personal at-home fashion shows.

She stepped in them after kicking off her flip flops but waited to get inside before she put on the coat. She reasoned, no need to die of heat exhaustion just a few feet and minutes away from fulfilling one of her dreams!

Last to grab was her adorable new umbrella. She already had a black one but thought she would treat herself for the occasion. Although she’d seen an umbrella that matched her coat and boots, she’d decided to go a little different for it and instead ordered one that was light-blue and featured “raining” cats and dogs. She’d thought that was so cute.

And now, she was ready. She left the luggage in her car and headed back to the building.

After she was checked in at the front desk, signs led her to the exhibit she had come and paid all of her savings for. On her way, she couldn’t help but notice another standout exhibit that had an incredibly long line of people waiting to get in—even longer than the one she was headed towards. The door that led into it featured a big picture with countless little white balls. She felt a mixture of excitement and sadness as she thought to herself, I’ll have to save up another five years, maybe more, for that one.

Finally, she arrived to her long-awaited exhibit. It didn’t take long for her long line to be ushered by their tour guide into the door with the picture of countless diagonal blue slits.

As they entered, the guide gave Tricia and the other visitors a pair of special glasses. “Put these on,” he said, “And I’ll give you further direction once we get inside. Remember to keep them on to remain in The Experience.”

Tricia put her glasses on and walked through the door, and suddenly, it suddenly was as if she was in the living room of someone’s nicely decorated home. The fireplace roared on one wall. She could almost feel the heat.

And then she turned to her right. And there it was. 

She slowly walked towards the open window, taking in the scene as she stepped. Slits of water shot down in a slightly diagonal direction and soaked everything it touched: the concrete and grass below, the trunks and leaves of the trees, the flowers, the bench on the left side, and some colorful playground equipment in the distant right. A jogger running by, seemingly unfazed by the onslaught, while a group of kids jumped around in a big puddle, the mud splashing on their clothes and laughter echoing from them. The occasional car drove by on the road nearby—the water falling and sliding down on each side. Two black, plastic bars swung back and forth on the front window, furiously pushing the water to each side and clearing the driver’s view.

Tricia tried to remember what those things were called. ‘Scrapers,’ I think? ‘Scrapers’ or …’scrubbers’? ‘Rubbers’? ’Swipers’? Oh, wait! That was it. ‘Wipers.” They were called ‘wipers.’ Windshield wipers.

Tricia could hardly contain herself as she approached the home’s front door. She opened it and took in the outdoor scene once more, bracing herself for what she was about to feel. And then, she stepped forward.

Pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter patter sounded off on her raincoat.

Splashes on her legs as she stepped with her boots, which suddenly felt slightly heavier than before to lift.

“Welcome to The Rain Experience,” said the guide. “Up until a little less than three-quarters of a century ago, this was what it felt like when enough precipitation would build up above. It would rain. We would go outside, and water would literally fall from the sky… Just as you’re seeing and feeling now.”

“You’re welcome to keep your raincoats on and use your umbrellas, or you can ditch them both for the full wet experience,” he grinned enthusiastically. “I’ll share some information and history about rain, and I’m happy to take pictures of you at key locations throughout the tour—walking down the sidewalk, sitting in the park, standing next to a building or statue or a car—whatever you want. There will be lots of opportunities!”

Tricia continued walking slowly, nearly pinching herself to confirm this was reality as she listened.

“You can continue to use your earphones to tune into my commentary or mute or remove them as you’d like to more fully immerse yourself into The Experience,” the guide went on. “It’s up to you. Some people come on separate days — once, to hear the full narration, and the other for the non-audio, immersion experience. Of course, an additional visit will require a separate ticket,” he chuckled briefly. "But if you’re able to swing that, it is highly recommended. Otherwise, you may want to split the time accordingly during your visit today. Make it count!”

Tricia kept her earphones in for the moment.

“Back in the days of rain, it sometimes would be on the lighter side, which is what you’re feeling now, to help you to get used to it. They would call it ‘drizzle’ or ‘light showers.' Other times, it would be a lot more—something they would call a ‘downpour.' Hang tight and have your umbrellas ready, as we’ll give you a sense of that shortly.”

The tour guide continued, “If it got cold enough in the sky, instead of rain, you’d get snow, which you probably saw the exhibit for on your way in. Cool stuff! You should check it out some time if you haven’t.”

“But back to rain… Back in those days, they sometimes would even have these things called thunderstorms and hurricanes, where certain conditions would make rain powerful and even deadly. You’d see electricity, called ‘lightning,’ in the sky, or the rain would team up with wind and knock down trees and power lines! Those were the hurricanes. Those would get so bad that they could, and would, take out whole towns!”

Tricia's and the other visitors’ eyes and mouths widened.

“Yeah, I know, right?” the guide continued. "Those hurricanes actually were the last of what we experienced before…getting to where we are now. For centuries, they were pretty infrequent — less than 50 around the world per year. But in the decades leading up to the endless drought, that number had soared to an average of 250 a year! It got to be where there was a different hurricane somewhere around the world each week—some places, each couple of days! And each year, they became more intense than the last. At the same time, more water sources were drying up at rapid speeds. As quickly as the hurricanes were picking up, those sources drying happened even more quickly, which soon thankfully put an end to the hurricanes entirely. No more hurricanes! But not so thankfully, it also meant less and less rain, until it stopped raining completely. And, well, you know the rest. We now have very limited water sources around the world and have largely had to manufacture most of the water you drink, use for cooking, bathing, and so on. But! Unfortunately, one thing they have yet to figure out how to manufacture…is any water-related weather. And hence the founding of The Oasis and what we’ve brought to you here today and have amazed the world with the past 25 years!”

She removed the ear pieces and put them in her pocket. She wanted to enjoy some of the experience of it by itself. But still couldn’t get away from the interruptions entirely.

“Did you ever experience the real thing, Mr.?” a little girl visiting with her parents asked nearby.

The tour guide laughed. “No, I’m only 24. That was way before my time.”

“Oh,” she said.

“But my grandparents experienced it… when they were younger.”

“Yeah, my parents did, too,” the little girl’s mother said.

“Really?” beamed the young girl. “Pa and Nana were alive for real rain?”

Her mother nodded, smiling.

“What did they say it was like?”

“Well, probably just like this. We get to feel what they did back then.”

Tricia looked up towards the virtual rainy sun and tried to tune out the voices around her as the falling water soaked her. Even knowing it wasn’t real, she’d never seen a sun so beautiful. It looked different behind a watery haze. She closed her eyes and let her mind take her back to the lens of her 6-year-old self running and giggling around her family’s yard. Except, this time, instead of just seeing it in her mind, she was able to feel it. Her lips stretched further than they ever had.

Even though she was soaked, Tricia felt a sort of warmth. And not the kind of sweltering “warmth” she and the rest of the world had long been plagued with outside. It was a comforting warmth. A peace. And her heart decided this was the last thing she’d ever want to feel.

Tricia stood for there for a few more minutes, enjoying the downpour as it drenched her from hair to heel.

As the fall slowed, so did her body, until it became limp.

The tour guide and other visitors rushed to her. “Somebody call an ambulance!” were the last words her ears captured. Beyond them, just ahead, her narrowing eyes landed on the much-raved-about display set to conclude The Experience, an arc spectrum of all the colors.