The Rainman

I don’t know when he showed up, but my older brother said he’s a curse on our family. My brother believed that. Repeated it. Swore it. Over and over and over until the Rainman came and got him next. Every one of my family members has died in tragic accidents during a storm. My grandparents. My cousins.

My father hydroplaned off the road into the forest and a tree branch skewered him.

My mother slipped on the pavement, trying to make it inside a grocery store, and hit her head. Instant death.

My older brother fell off a boat while fishing with some of his friends and a shark tore him to shreds. I watched the video. The Rainman pushed him into the sea.

And now, I’m the last one left.

It’s been years since my brother died. Eight, in fact. I moved away from my sleepy town in Massachusetts to the other side of the country. I assist a few different professors at a ritzy film school with a bunch of entitled, wannabe actors, writers, and directors that think they have something to say about the state of the world. Why am I here? Seemed like a good choice at the time, and I’ve always had a love for film. Los Angeles is an enigmatic place, full of all the people I hate. The pompous rich. Influencers. College students. Tech bros. Models. Let’s just call it a day and say I need to get away from here before I go crazy. I’m thinking Nevada, since it gets the least amount of rain.

The Rainman would have a difficult time following me there. I just need to convince Zoe, my girlfriend of three years, to come with me. She doesn’t know about the Rainman. I haven’t told anyone because then I’d end up in an asylum somewhere in the backwoods of Wisconsin.

I’ll have to ask Zoe tonight about moving. I sigh and open the door to our apartment, where Zoe lounges on the couch, our Weiner Dog, Alfonso, curled up at her feet. The tablet she holds lights up her golden face. She’s engrossed in something, the curl of her pink lips as she nibbles her fingertip a moment in time I’d like to frame. It’s crazy how seeing someone you love happy can make all the bad things slip away. As long as I have Zoe, and she’s smiling, I’ll be all right.

“Al!” I shout, and Zoe jumps, dropping her tablet.

Alfonso’s little tail wiggles as he bounds toward me and jumps into my arms.

“Dick.” Zoe comes to shove me in the chest.

“Hey! Careful. You’ll make me drop Al. It’s not my fault your sense of awareness is horrible.”

“I don’t need to be aware because Al’s the best guard dog ever. He wouldn’t let me down.”

“He just did.”

“He could smell you.” Zoe grins and moves closer.

I put Al down and wrap my arms around Zoe’s waist, taking in the smell of her dark hair. Coconuts and cinnamon. We spend the rest of the evening together, watching movies, playing video games, and just enjoying our little family. I don’t mention moving yet, but I will. I have all weekend.

Sunday morning, we go out to get coffee at a ridiculously expensive café. But Zoe likes it, so I oblige. She always says we’re paying for the art on the walls and the vibes. I think a nine-dollar coffee and twelve-dollar bagel is bullshit. The bagels are good, though. They infuse the dough with bacon, sausage, or eggs, whatever you want really. We sit outside and wake ourselves with caffeine and the warm, orange glow of the sun. We sip as we play a game where we take turns guessing what someone does for a living based on their looks.

There’s a female jogger wearing dark leggings and a lime-green tank top striding down the sidewalk.

“Hmm.” Zoe puts a hand under her chin. “Fitness instructor and influencer.”

“Nah. Yoga instructor,” I say.

“Same difference.”

The jogger bounces past our table and no one else comes. We get to the end of our coffees in silence. There’s no one else to make fun of, or look at. The street is empty.

The air shifts.

 It gets cooler. Uncomfortable.

Zoe leans back in her chair and hugs herself. “What’s wrong, Ravvy? I know something’s been bothering you all morning.”

“Uh. Just. I wanted to ask you something.”

Zoe motions for me to go on with her hand.

“I know this might be asking for a lot, but I want to move away from LA. And before you answer, I understand you have friends here. Your family is here. You have a decent job. Your life is here. So, if you don’t want to come, I get it, but I’m not happy. This place isn’t for me.”

Zoe stays silent for a long moment, her expression unreadable. A curdle of anxiousness forms in my gut, and I think I might puke up my bagel. Zoe has been a slice of heaven on earth. She’s been my only reason for sticking it out in LA for so long. I would hate to lose her now, but I have to go some place where the Rainman has less of a chance to find me. Maybe it would be better if Zoe and I broke up. If the Rainman comes while she’s with me, she’ll get caught in the crossfire.

I can’t have that.

“I understand if you want to break—”

“So, where are we going?” Zoe’s eyebrows furrow. “Wait? Were you about to suggest breaking up with me?”

I fumble over my words. “N-n-no. No. Never.”

“Bullshit.”

I push my hands across the table, grabbing Zoe’s. “I love you.”

Even though we’ve been together for three years, Zoe blushes. “I love you, too.”

As we sit there, holding hands, the sky darkens overhead and the wind howls. I tilt my head back, and a fat raindrop hits my forehead. When thunder growls, Zoe pulls me from my seat, and we run inside the café, dodging the downpour that bursts through the clouds seconds later.

Zoe whips out her phone. “I didn’t know it was supposed to rain today. The forecast said it was going to be sunny.”

No.

“Ravvy?”

This can’t happen. Not here.

Zoe shakes me. “Ravvy, hey?”

The Rainman, a silhouette made of crashing water stands right next to where Zoe and I sat outside. He’s barely visible, but I know he’s there, watching me. When he points, my lungs burn as if I’m drowning.

“Ravvy, what’s the matter with you? You’re scaring me.”

I wrap an arm around Zoe and lead her into a booth. “I’m fine.”

“You’re pale.”

I clutch her hand. “Zoe, I’m fine.”

And together, we watch an ocean’s worth of water plummet from the heavens. I stay laser-focused on the Rainman as he stands there, daring me to come outside. Lightning streaks across the sky, and the rain that pounds against the building intensifies.

“You’re hurting my hand,” Zoe says, and I let go.

“I’ll be back.”

I damn near sprint to the bathroom and lock myself inside the last stall on the end. The lights flicker, making a zapping sound. My heart frenzies in my chest when all the toilets flush by themselves. My throat feels like a barren wasteland.

I crash out of the stall, and the lights come back on, dim and yellow. Water gushes from each of the three faucets, and for the first time, as the sinks overflow and water pools on the tiled floor, I hear his voice.

The Rainman’s.  

It’s an icy whisper, sharp and deadly.

“I’m coming for you.”