Down came the rain

He was not expecting rain, yet it continued to tap repeatedly outside his tent, mocking him, and quietly drenching the earth. He hadn't brought his poncho, he was not prepared. How arrogant he had been in thinking he could know what to expect from the wilderness; and how to plan for each moment.Soaking wet he continued to readjust, tossing and turning, as he shivered. Eugene felt small, as though God was playing a prank on him. He closed his eyes again, as his head settled into his the dripping wet flannel; providing him no warmth. Hours later, he awoke, he felt a sinking feeling as he came to; he was still in the desert in a wet sleeping bag, and it was still raining. He felt a cramping in his stomach from the lack of relief, determined and angry he continued to hold on. He closed his eyes again as he tried to remember what it felt like to not be cold; he dreamed about summer and longed for the still heat, bright against his back.

As he rolled closer, Arthur unlocked his car, the sky continued to fall over him; with each push, water splattered from the ground off of his wheels, onto his jeans. Immediately he was shivering as his clothes clung to him; his skin, nerves, and bones unable to squeeze back. With the car door open, he began to transition; his dominant hand cradled his right leg as he guided his right foot till it touched the ground. His hand then took his left leg and guided his left foot to join its brother. He felt the cold bouncing around within his brain; it crawled across over his cerebellum and rested in the back of his neck, sending shivers downward. Nevertheless, he transferred his body from his chair to the driver’s seat, as he crashed into place more water oozed off of his clothes. He lifted the mass of his right leg into the car to wait. The Velcro of his cushion was muted by the rain. He knocked the leg rests down into the seat of his wheel chair, pushed the back rest down; the movements as second nature as breathing. He readjusted from the seat of his car and had his left leg move from the black asphalt to a rest position near the gas pedal he could never will his leg to push. He leaned out in the rain over his chair as his right thumb pushed into the black circle and pulled out a wheel; he lifted it just a little too hard, the push rim collided into the metal of his door. He thought nothing of the noise and continued to move the wheel through the interior laying it on the back seat. His chair surrendered and fell to the right, he reached again, pulled out the other wheel; it clanked against its partner in the back. He grabbed the bottom bar of his chair and lifted, the front casters moved back and forth like wind chimes extended in the air. His chair landed in the back seat above the wheels, as he brought his arms up to find his keys, his muscles throbbed, sore and bitter. Now on the inside, his eyes locked for a moment on the droplets, how they smeared from the other side; he exhaled and pulled the door shut. With one turn, the engine revved; he moved his hand to the knob on his steering wheel and began to coast home.