Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Some truth about me

I can sit and listen to the rain for hours. I love the rain and I miss it, but tonight while I type this it is actually storming in California. Well, at least what we would consider a storm, by midwest standards definitly a drizzle. I love the rain, the calming aspects of it. I always get the best sleep when I hear it pounding against the roof as I lay in the dark wrapped in my covers. those nights are full of vivid dreams where I am sailing on the open seas to far off places. It also makes me think of all the horrific rainstorms I have seen in my life. It reminds me of college and walking through flooded streets, sitting in tents playing cards with friends as the rain whips at my tent, and of long drives through rain so powerful you can't see 10 feet in front of you. I love the rain, but the rain also made me start writing.

So, Little Bro you wanted something personal, here is the first chapter of the book I have been writing, it is about the rain.

1

As the car starts to whir, my eyes slowly start to drift closed. Ever since I can remember I have always been the kid who falls asleep in the car. Today was no exception, especially with the soft drizzle of rain beating against the roof. Lulling me into a pleasant sleepy feeling…

Have you ever made a rainstorm at a campfire? It is amazing, because if you close your eyes, it feels like there may be one coming. Now a campfire ring is usually packed with kids, adults, teenagers, the young, the old, everyone from all walks of life. Even the occasional animal or two. The camp staff standing in the center, mere feet away from the hot swirls of fire that go screaming towards the sky, singing and dancing camp fire songs loud enough to wake up the entire lake.

As the light in the horizon starts to fade away, one staff member stands up and looks out towards the crowd and says, “Tonight is a special night, a night for us all to remember. There is magic around this campfire and were gonna use some of it to conjure up a rainstorm.” The looks from the crowd are silently deafening. And the rest of the staff stands up and they spread out. Each taking their small corner of the campfire and explaining to the small groups in front of them to just follow their actions.

It starts with everyone rubbing their thumb and index fingers together. Not snapping, just rubbing. It is faint but it sounds like a soft mist floating to the ground. Suddenly everyone slowly starts rubbing their hands together, the mist starts to get louder and louder as it catches on around the ring.

Then one group will start snapping their fingers, making the slow sounds of drops beating against the pavement. Louder and louder…

Then comes the clapping, first one group to your right, then another, and then comes the stomping with your feet. Waves of clapping and sounds like a horrific storm is upon you ready to swirl you away like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.

Crash…

The lightening streaks through the sky again, my heart was pounding from the deafening roar of the thunderclap. The sky had taken on that greenish hue again; we would be in for some sort of terrible storm. I had been up at Boy Scout camp for a week. Two weeks if you counted the week of family camp prior to being driven to far north Wisconsin. I rest my head against the window and continue daydreaming about the campfire from the night before.

Crash…

But as fast and as loud as it sounds, it comes to a climax. One group stops stomping and clapping and reverts back to snapping. Slowly other groups are catching on.

Crash…

The car jerks to the side, and I’m woken from my daze. My friends are cheering on our driver. He just turned 19, and we had to many boys in the troop to fit the number vehicles driven by parents. So the three of us lucked out and got to ride in his van. Looking out the back window I see that our leader who was bringing up the rear has turned down another road. Probably heading to the store to pick up snacks. I look at (A) who is sitting next to me and then to the back of the car to the other boy whose name I never can remember. I think it starts with a S, so (S) is telling a story, more thunder and lightening, my eyes are getting heavy…

Crash…

Then to rubbing your hands together, to just your fingers, till there is nothing but silence. The lead staff member returns to the middle of the ring and says, “And there you have it a rainstorm.

Crash…

My head is kind of cold from leaning it against the window; the lightening is really cool ripping across the sky. The other boys are cheering our driver to speed up the car, because were coming upon the three hills right outside of camp. He speeds up and I feel the car take a little air over the first hill. My stomach drops. The second hill, my stomach drops again. Everyone is laughing, I turn my eyes to the window again; the rain is really coming down, making it hard to see outside, I blink…

White.

2 Comments:

Blogger lil miss stickler said...

i think that is beautiful josh. do you really remember all that right before it happened? or is what you think happened? or is it mostly fiction?

September 21, 2005 10:21 AM  
Blogger Stickler said...

That is really all I remember, they made me go over it so many times in depositions. I added a little flair by explaining the campfire memory though.

September 21, 2005 11:55 AM  

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