Read Online I Will Send Rain by Rae Meadows - Free Book Online Page B

“Hard to outrun it sometimes, isn’t it?” He patted the pastor’s sleeve, and quickly withdrew his hand.
    â€œWhat’s on your mind, Samuel? What brings you out?”
    â€œI’ve been chewing on something. It’s got me all tied up.”
    â€œGo on.”
    â€œWe had abundance out here and now we have nothing. Worse than nothing.” Samuel’s words began to spill from him. “People leaving their land, not enough to eat. Questioning God. I know I have, I can’t help it.”
    â€œSlow down, son. Let me get the whiskey.”
    The old man shuffled to the cupboard and pulled down a small jug and two cloudy glasses. Samuel took a sip and welcomed its calming effect.
    â€œThe jackrabbits, the grasshoppers. Even all the spiders. It just feels plain wrong,” Samuel said. “If it’s not retribution, this place we’re in now, if God isn’t punishing us for our sins, could it be a test, then?”
    â€œWhen we return unto God, things will be changed for us,” Pastor Hardy said.
    Samuel rolled his glass between his palms before the pastor filled it again.
    â€œI’m afraid,” Samuel said quietly.
    â€œWe’re all afraid. These are frightening times. That’s why some leave. That’s why some stay. That’s why we ration ourselves to cured pork and cornmeal porridge.”
    â€œNo, it’s something else. Why I came tonight. To talk to you.”
    â€œWhat is it, Samuel? Have you done something?”
    Samuel shook his head and looked to the window, only to see the reflection of the lamp. It was ludicrous, this thought that wouldn’t leave him.
    â€œThen what’s troubling you? Unburden yourself.”
    â€œI’m afraid of what I’ve seen in dreams.”
    â€œDreams are difficult. They can feel like visitations, can’t they?”
    â€œCould they be?”
    The pastor leaned back in his chair and shrugged.
    â€œSometimes God speaks in thunder. Other times in silence. Only you can know the voice that speaks to you.”
    â€œWhat if,” Samuel said. “What if God has spoken to me?”
    *   *   *
    A NNIE SAT ON the edge of the bed and, in the moon’s weak light, rubbed beeswax on her hands. In place of washing powder, she’d begun to use cheap lye, which left her hands rough and ugly.
    Samuel had come home late, smelling of alcohol, but Annie couldn’t bring herself to ask. Compared to what she’d done—her thoughts returned to Jack Lily in the car again and again—a night of drinking with Stew Mack was nothing. He’d mumbled something about cows and had then gone straight to bed, where he now slept, legs out, mouth open. This image of him—helpless, vulnerable—repelled her.
    It is you, Annie, she thought. Don’t blame this on Samuel. It is you and Jack Lily and what has taken root in you. Lust was new to her, a darker pull than she’d ever felt with Samuel, a barbed vine that snaked its way around every thought, gently squeezing everything else out.
    Life was not good and fair. God had taught her this, hadn’t he? She harbored this belief like a shard of iron lodged in her gut. Her baby, her baby. Beautiful and alive with her gurgling milky breaths and tiny pink hands and eyes dark like obsidian. Ten years and she could not forgive God for what he had taken. Jack Lily did not remind her of what she’d lost. What they were losing day after day.
    Annie brushed the fine dust from her pillow and pulled back the sheet. She curled herself around her husband’s slack body in apology.

 
    CHAPTER 5
    The next duster came quickly on the heels of the last, and the Bells scurried about trying to cover the beds, to wedge wet towels around the windows and under the doors. Wind burst two windows of the empty school. After the dust had followed the faintest black drizzle, which left only a smattering of drops on the dry ground