When Rain Does Fall
By Kimberly Price
Copyright © Winter of 2000, Keepers
Company
It had been years since Godlin had last seen the rain falling, and
now he was sitting alone in a café while the rain poured down in sheets
outside. He stared blankly out the large glass window and did not see the
waitress as she walked over and set a steaming cup of coffee down before
him. The steam rose from the cup slowly and Godlin soon felt it against
his skin. He looked away from the window and down at the little ceramic
cup. He picked it up with his right hand and took a slow sip from it. It
warmed his body and made his mind a bit more attentive, but he really did
not need either. His black trench coat was resting on the booth beside him
and he knew exactly whom he was waiting to see emerge from the dark to the
light on the street corner created by the little café.
Godlin looked up at the clock on the wall opposite of him. Eleven fifteen
in the morning. He still had another forty-five minuets to wait for this
being to emerge. Still, he set the cup down and looked back out the window.
He distorted his eyes until his own image became just barely present in
the café window. He thought himself to look in his upper twenties,
though he knew that he was really twenty-one. The years of harshness in
the Keepers shown threw in his face. His skin was darkly colored, but it
was not black. His hair was a rich black, though, and it hung down around
his head at a medium length. Godlin then looked to his own eyes. They where
of an emerald green color that faded into an infinitely deep, black pupil.
He blinked his eyelids, knowing that his left eye was blind.
This was not seen as a flaw to him, though. It had made him depend on his
other senses more and so few people rarely surprised him or escaped his notice.
He sighed to himself, thinking about the day that his lost the sight in
that eye. It had taught him a wise lesson about foolishness and he was glad
to have come out of it alive. He reached over and touched his coat, feeling
something hard inside it. He drew his hand back to him, knowing that it
was the black dagger that he used as a weapon.
Lightening flashed brightly, and Godlin focused on a dark shape moving quickly
though the pouring rain toward the safety of the café. He glanced
to the door and then up at the clock, eleven fifty-nine.
A tinkering of a brass bell that hung over the café door was heard
as someone stepped in. A gust of cold wind and a bit of rain followed the
small woman in, and then the tinkering was again heard as the door was closed.
Godlin looked to the being that had just walked in. She was a very timid
looking woman with catlike features and long, fine hair. A coat, far too
big for her, was wrapped tightly around her slender body. A waitress came
up to her and offered to take the coat. The woman made a reply, but it was
too soft for Godlin to hear it. He guessed it was a yes, for the waitress
took the woman's coat and placed it on a rack. After the coat was removed,
the woman looked around, and, finding Godlin, went to his booth at the far
end of the café.
She sat in the booth opposite of him and said in her soft voice, "Hello Author."
"Hello Cleo," Godlin said with a slight smile in his thick English accent.
Just as Cleo knew Godlin by another name, Godlin knew her by another name
also, Plains Walker. At least, this is what the Keepers called her. Their
real, or other sometimes assumed names, were only used in the presence of
those that did not know who they really were.
"You better finish your coffee before it gets cold."
Author took his eyes from her and looked down at his cup. The coffee had
long been cold and Author really did not want it anyway. "Yes . . . I'm
not thirsty right now."
"Then may I have it?"
"Yes, but would you not rather that I get you a fresh cup?"
"No, I like mine cold and black." Cleo gave a soft smile as Author pushed
the cup toward her. She picked it up and took a long drink from it, seeming
to enjoy it.
Author waited a moment for Cleo to lower the cup before asking, "Did you
bring it?"
Cleo jumped like she had forgotten something and stood up, "Oh! I'm so terrible.
I left it in my coat pocket." She set the cup down on the table, "I'll
go get it right away," and started toward the door where her coat was hung.
Author watched her as she dug around in her coat until she pulled out a small
object wrapped in white tissue paper. Cleo walked back over to Author and
handed it to him as she sat.
"Did you have much trouble finding it?" Author asked as he set it down and
started to open the paper.
"Oh no. Tech knew just where it was. He can be so sweet sometimes."
Author concealed a sneer with a pleasant voice, "Yes, he can." He looked
down to what had been wrapped in the paper. It was a crystal unicorn. He
picked it up and looked though it with his good eye. It distorted the color
of the lights and made the room seemingly filled with tiny rainbows. He then
passed the crystal to his other eye. At first, he could see only blackness,
but slowly, a light began to penetrate and soon the crystal had resorted his
vision in his left. He set the unicorn down with a sigh and the light faded
from his eye.
"Did it not work?" Cleo asked, seeing him sigh.
"No, no . . . It works. I'm just not sure about this."
"What is there to be unsure about? You will have your vision back. Think
of what you can do," Cleo said, trying to encourage him.
Author sighed again, "It is just that I'm not sure if I am ready to give
up what this eye has given me."
"Painful memories?"
"Learned lessons. I shall never allow myself to go though that again, or
another for that matter. The sword gives me many powers, but she owns my
life." Again, Author reached over and touched his coat. He gave the hard
object inside it a slight squeeze until he could tell that he was holding
the blade of the dagger. He relaxed his hand, but he kept it on the coat.
"But if you regain your sight, then maybe the sword will lose its power over
you."
"Yes, but she may take the powers back she gave me."
"Then at least take your vision back so that you can forget what happened."
"No, I cannot do it. It is too late to change what has happened to me,"
Author said as he started to wrap the little unicorn back up. He reached
over and held it in her face.
"Please. You have suffered as it is," Cleo said as she pushed his hand from
her.
Though much stronger than Cleo, Author gave in and let his hand rest on the
table again, "We all have, Cleo, we all will again. Give the miracle to
another, but not to me, I do not deserve it . . . None of us do." He stood
up and pushed the paper toward her again. Cleo sighed and took it hesitantly.
Author then reached down and picked his coat up and put it on. It fell
heavily around him with a slight clang here and there, like metal objects
hitting each other. None of the others in the café noticed the metallic
clangs and if they did, they did not care.
Author started for the door, but Cleo jumped up and ran to stop him, "Please
reconsider."
"I have made up my mind," his jaw twitched slightly in anger, but he was
keeping his voice steady. "Give to someone who truly needs it. Someone with
nothing."
"Like who?" Cleo reached to the coat hanger for her coat that was mixed among
a few others.
"I don't know. Leave it on the table. Someone will find it."
"What if evil things come of it?"
"What more evil could this world already have?"
Cleo sighed and ran back to the table that they had been sitting at. She
looked at the folded paper in her hand for a moment and then set it down on
the tabletop by the half-empty coffee cup. The tinkering of the bell hanging
over the door was heard and the rain outside as the door was opened. Cleo
looked up just in time to see Author's coat vanish out the door. She ran
to catch up with him, leaving the little unicorn, wrapped in the white paper,
behind.