Splish

Splish

“No, No.... I tell you I am in the wrong line!” Splish frantically tried to back peddle but the other drops weren’t moving to let him through.

They were all chattering excitedly, pressing forward toward the launch site, ignoring him completely. Splish was being slowly pushed forward with the crowd and nothing he could do would stop that now. If a drop could weep, Splish would have. He was supposed to be in the gentle rain line, not the storm line. He took too long admiring the rainbow room and had to rush to get in line, so he didn’t notice the wrong turn until it was too late. Now he was stuck.

He quivered in fear. The storm line! Oh what was going to happen to him? He had never been in anything higher than the gentle rain after the storm passed. He started out in the dew brigade and enjoyed the cool mist that delivered him to the grass and leaves of the underworld. He loved the gentle morning sun as it evaporated him back home. He had also tried the fog bank, drizzle club and even the snow floats. He found the snow room to be too cold and full of air-heads that could only talk dreamily of floating, comparing their flake patterns like peacocks. So he ended up in the gentle rain runners and had been there ever since.

All his friends were in the next room preparing for the after storm jump. Did they notice he wasn’t there? Oh what was he to do? No one - absolutely no one - had gone to the storm striders and returned to tell about it. Splish tried with renewed vigor to fight against the other drops and get back out of the line to no avail. He was almost to the launch site.

Splish could see the opening now and glimpsed grey clouds, dark and foreboding, churning in the wind. Sudden flashes of lightening startled him and brought oohs and ahhs from the surrounding drops. Glancing left and right, Splish muttered in disgust about crazy drops with death wishes and suddenly he was teetering on the edge of the launch pad.

Looking down in horror he could see a boiling grey mass with darker shapes whirling here and there. The deafening sound of thunder reverberated through his drop body setting him to quivering in fear again. Opening his mouth to protest yet again, he found himself pushed from behind. As he fell, his scream was snatched by the wind never to be heard by his fellow drops.

Closing his eyes in terror, Splish prayed for the end to be quick as he swished up and down and spun around at the wind's mercy. Twisting and turning, tip over bottom, Splish could feel the fingers of all the different winds pulling at him. Thunder rumbled and crashed vibrating through him with an insistent throbbing. He tried to relax and go with the flow, in resignation to his fate, and as the tension slowly left him he began to hear whispers all around him.

“Play with us. Come play.”

Play? Who was asking him to play? Splish slowly opened his eyes and stared in amazement at what the other drops were doing. They were joining in groups to form larger drops and actually trying to run into trees, sticks and other things swirling in the cloud mass.

“Come play with us.”

Another drop grabbed onto Splish before he could protest. Then another and another and another until there were several drops clustered around him. Chattering excitedly the other drops asked the wind for help and soon were headed straight for a tree limb.

“Look out!” cried Splish, too late to make a difference.

Splat! They hit the tree limb separating into individual drops, laughing as they spun away from it. Splish somersaulted tip over bottom caught up by another wind again and realized he was laughing too. That was fun! That was really fun! Splish quickly joined another group and went splat again, this time on a tin can whirling through the air. Giggling with the others, he did it again and again, swirling and swishing with the wind, until he thought he would burst with excitement.

All too soon he had his final splat on the windshield of a car, sitting on a hill, with a woman inside watching the storm. He rolled down the glass reflecting on the romping good time he had just experienced and as he lay at the bottom of the windshield he quivered, this time with joy from his adventure.

The clouds moved on and a gentle rain began to fall. Splish realized that some of his friends were settling in around him.

“Hey, where were you?”

“I didn’t see you in line.”

“How did you get here before me?”

Splish mumbled something about being with the first bunch out and catching a tail wind which seemed to satisfy them for the moment. As they sat there waiting for the sun to appear, Splish listened to his friends talk about the same old stuff - the gliding, gentle free fall; the warm soft wind that accompanied them down; and the rainbow path that was always the pleasure for the last drops to view. He realized that he loved these things also, but now yearned for the excitement and rush of the storm. Never again could he be satisfied with anything less. Now he knew why no one returned from the storm striders and neither would he. He quivered again, in anticipation, causing questioning looks from his neighbors.

As Splish drifted upward on the currents of evaporation, he thought about telling his friends but decided against it. They would never believe him and besides, someone had to do the gentle rain. Just not him!