The Flood

They said there’d be rain, and lots of it. They said it would start early and not end for weeks. They said it would be the single largest rainfall we’d ever had. And I laughed. I mean, honestly, who predicts rain in the middle of the dry season except for some absolute lunatics? They even started building a huge boat they said would save us all when the nonstop rain hit. I laughed at them building that boat too. What idiots.

And you know what I did for the four weeks they kept claiming it was going to rain? I sat in my house watching reruns of Days of Our Lives. God, I am absolutely in love with this DVR thing! For months I didn’t even have to watch any TV at all, and that thing was storing up tons of episodes for just this eventuality. I vegged out on my couch, put on 20 pounds, and watched Kristen scheme about how to break up John and Marlena. The most excitement I had had in years.

Every afternoon after a few hours of Days, I would go downtown past the construction site where some wild-eyed “prophet” would be screaming about the infernal rain that was supposed to wash away our world. Honestly, it reminded me of that stupid global warming crap that never panned out, and those weapons of mass destruction that were nowhere to be found. I laughed at the old man, and I laughed at the people helping to build that huge boat.

I wondered who could be funding their foolish venture. I mean, wood isn’t cheap and they had to have used tons of it to build just the frame for that enormous behemoth. But by that time in my walk I would be exhausted. After a quick stop at the A&P for more beer, I would get a cab home to watch more Days until I fell asleep on the couch.

Then, on the forty-first day of hearing them ramble on and on about the rain and the weather staying as brittle as possible, they finished the boat. I couldn’t resist going down one last time to laugh at them again, the people who would build a huge ship in the middle of a major landlocked city. So I went back downtown, and the going was slow.

Cars were lined up from the ‘burbs all the way to the city center, like in some disaster movie from the ’90s, and in-between the cars hordes of people were walking, running, and stumbling on their way downtown. As I passed among them I noticed several of the cars were empty, as if their passengers had just gotten out and joined the mass of bodies heading in the same direction I was going. It was all rather eerie.

And it was too much for me. I abandoned my mission pretty quickly, wondering what the deal was with all those people heading like lemmings off a cliff, but not for too long. When I got back home I discovered my neighborhood was deserted. Doors to homes were left open, and there was no trash on the curb. I dismissed all of it. I headed back inside, plopped down once more, and watched my favorite show until I fell asleep again, as always.

The next morning I awoke twisted up painfully on my couch, the TV on the news, but it looked like a war zone. Police had cordoned off the area around the large boat and were letting people come aboard in groups of seven, no more, no less. I was shocked equally by the number of people clambering to get on board, and by the fact that the police were helping. Talk about creating a mob state!

I headed into my kitchen to see what leftovers were there when my eye was drawn to the small window over the sink. As I looked out into the deserted street I saw a sight to behold. It had begun to rain, thick fat drops that were starting to come down harder as I watched, transfixed. I walked back into the living room and stared at the TV, numb from shock. The people getting onto the boat hadn’t slowed down. In fact, it had picked up the pace. The officers had begun letting them on two by two to quicken the pace, and it was working. And the whole while the rain kept coming down.

Then the TV reception went out, followed quickly by the electricity itself. I looked outside again, and I saw that the rain had created a river flowing down the middle of the street. I stumbled out into it, and the current was surprisingly strong, pulling on me with ferocity, yet I somehow managed to stay on my feet. I couldn’t see even a yard in front of my face because the rain was then coming in sheets, pounding on my already aching body.

That’s when I realized what I should have known all along, what the hordes of people who had gotten out of their cars knew, what even the old man knew. And I felt like the only human being left on earth. I sobbed then, huge racking tears accompanied by a noise alien even to myself. That’s when I fell with a splash into the swiftly moving current.

And I wasn’t laughing then.

Sam