Flood

When it rains like this you know for sure that river's going to flood its banks again, because where else is the water going to go but wide, spilling across my little apron of land here where the river takes a jog, going wide and deep until it seems one more drop and my whole world's going to wash away, that's how close, that's when it stops, the sky clears, floodwater all runs downstream and overnight something miraculous happens, wake in the morning to a profound miracle, like the time I woke and looked out and it seemed like my whole riverbank was paved with shimmering silver, well, I grabbed my boots, ran down there in my nightgown and what do you think it was but millions of tiny little fish, beaching themselves, gasping out their last words, little "O"s of surprise,well, what could I do but go and gather up all my buckets and my wheelbarrow and go down there and pick them all up, the ones the crow hadn't already got to, and go through my garden with a basket of seed corn and a long stick, planting just like Squanto taught the Pilgrims to do the year they had that first Thanksgiving, you know, one seed, one fish, one hole? Of course it took me the best part of a week, and wasn't I glad when the last of those fish had a proper burial, but that corn grew to be the tallest anyone around here had ever seen, ten, fifteen feet tall, some of it, with ears like watermelon, and folks around here still talk about the year I grew that corn so tall, but I never told them how I did it, I never gave away my secret because it kind of felt like a pact, or maybe a test, and maybe I passed it, because the next time we had a flood, the morning after the water went down, I looked out and my riverbank was all shimmering silver again. Well, this time I got ready. I got dressed, gathered up all my buckets and my wheelbarrow, went down there and as I got closer I saw that, no, that wasn't any fish. That riverbank was covered with twenty-dollar bills. Can you imagine? And all I could think was-well, aren't I lucky that I have all these buckets and this wheelbarrow? And I filled them all up, two, three times over, some of them, which is a lot of twenty dollar bills,it took me the best part of a week just to wash the mud off them there in my kitchen sink, and rinse them, hang them out on the clothesline with clothespins to dry, run the iron over them because they got a little wrinkled, but when I was done, they looked as good as new, and I had a stack of twenty dollar bills enough to stuff a mattress with if I wanted to, and maybe I wanted to, maybe I didn't. I'm not saying that's what I did with them. Just that the next time it started raining like it wasn't ever going to stop, I got that kind of Christmas feeling, like you know something really wonderful is about to happen and you know you might scare it off if you think about it too much but it's really wonderful and you can't stop thinking about it and you know you might scare it off if you think about it too much but it's really wonderful and you can't stop thinking about it and you know you might scare it off if you think about it too much but it's really wonderful,you know that feeling? Well, that was the year it rained and rained and rained. Days and days of rain and high water, my back porch steps walked out into a little eddy for days and days and days, and me feeling all Christmassy and wishing I just knew the end of the story and it would be over for days and days and days and days and days and days.Finally there was a day when my back porch steps walked out into dry land again and that night was the longest night of my life. That night was as long as most weeks would be if you went a week without sleeping, but I waited. I waited until I could see that the sun was up full and shining on that riverbank before I peeked open the blinds, looked out and what do you think it was sitting there on that riverbank looking just like in the showroom except for a little water running out the bottom of the doors, but that blue Pontiac. Same one you see sitting in the drive. Not a scratch on it. North Carolina plates,figure that out. Key in the ignition. Started right up. Of course it was the best part of a week before the mud firmed up to where I could budge her but after that I drove that car everywhere, probably would be driving her right now if it weren't for that flat tire, but no matter, radio works fine, I like to sit in the car and listen to the radio, get the weather report, but you know when it rains like this I don't need a weather report to know for sure that river's going to flood.

©1998 Annie Gallup