“Rosie? Rose! What’s wrong?”
Convulsions racked her body, and her abdomen swelled as if she’d suddenly become nine months pregnant. I swam to her, but it was too late. She looked up at me, her eyes wide with panic, and vomited earthworms into the water. They exploded from her mouth, swimming around us. More of them slithered out of her nose and erupted from her ears and the corners of her eyes. Beneath her nightgown, in that magical place that only I had known, the place that had given birth to our children, something squirmed.
“They’re coming, Teddy. They’re coming soon!”
The earthworms wriggled through the water towards me.
I opened my mouth to scream, and this time, the water rushed in, choking me. With it, the worms slid down my throat.
I woke up clutching the sheets and still trying to scream. My mouth was open wide, but no sound came out. It felt like I was drowning, just like in the dream. My heart thundered in my chest and my lungs exploded with pain. I fumbled on the nightstand for my medicine, popped a pill, and waited for my pulse to stop racing. I was glad for the pills, but they were almost gone, and I wasn’t sure how I’d get more.
My pajamas were drenched with sweat, and both the mattress and the sheets were damp. At first I thought I’d wet myself, but it was just perspiration. I shook my head, trying to clear it.
The last few wisps of the nightmare ran through my mind. I wondered what it all meant and decided that it was just my subconscious getting rid of the trash from the day; thoughts of Rose and Carl’s rendition of the Skeeter Davis song and the worms from the carport. But knowing that didn’t ease my fears. Even then, I refused to consider the other things I’d seen. My brain just didn’t want to accept the weirdness of it. Probably a defense mechanism of some kind.
After a bit, I sat up and lit the kerosene lamp. Rose’s picture stared at me from the nightstand. I picked it up and cradled it in my arms, thinking about how we’d met.
In 1943, my sister, Evelyn, and her husband, Darius, owned a five-and-dime store down in Waynesboro, Virginia. Rose and Evelyn were good friends, and she was staying with them and working at the store. Meanwhile, I had been stationed in Panama and Gal—pagos for ten months, and I came home that April for a seven-day leave. My visit was unannounced. I figured I’d just show up and surprise everybody. I took the train from Norfolk to Waynesboro and got there just after sundown. Darius, Evelyn, and Rose were sitting down for supper when I knocked on the door, looking pretty sharp in my dress uniform, if I do say so myself.
Darius and Evelyn were happy to see me and they made a big fuss. Rose kind of sat there quietly in the background until things settled down, but I saw her right away. The first thing I noticed when we were finally introduced was her smile, and the second thing was her eyes. That was all it took. Just one look into those eyes and I fell in love. Folks these days (what’s left of them) may scoff at the notion of love at first sight, but I’m here to tell you that it really happens. It happened to Rose and me.
We communicated with each other that evening through stolen glances, but that was all. There was no real opportunity for us to talk. The next day, Darius and Evelyn gave me a ride to Greenbank, where my parents lived. I told Rose good-bye and that I was glad to have met her. As she shook my hand, I thought that I saw a special look, a message just for me (and later on, I found out that I was right). We piled into Darius’s truck. As we drove away, I was surprised to find myself feeling lonesome and sad because I didn’t expect to see Rose again. My plans were to catch the train in Greenbank after my leave was up and then head on to Tucson, where I was supposed to be stationed next.
After a short visit with our folks, Darius and Evelyn returned to Waynesboro. I spent the night in my old bedroom, but I couldn’t sleep a wink. All I did was lay there in my familiar bed and think of Rose. I couldn’t get her out of my head. By dawn, I knew what I needed to do. The next morning, during breakfast, I told my parents all about her and what I’d made up my mind to do. They understood, and I spent the day hitchhiking back to Waynesboro. Once again, I arrived after sundown, and when I knocked on the door and saw Rose, my heart sang. I’d been worried she might not be there.
I asked her out to a movie that night and she said yes. Neither of us had any idea what film we saw. To this day, I couldn’t tell you what it was. We sat in the back row and pretty much had the place to ourselves. We never looked at the screen. Instead, we talked the whole time. After the movie was over and the lights came up, we walked home very slowly under the full moon and talked some more. We were awake until one in the morning, but before I said good night I kissed her good-bye.
Holding her picture, I thought about that kiss, and of the next day—the first time I told her that I loved her, and how she’d whispered it back to me, her breath soft and sweet in my face.
One week later, I wrote her a letter and asked her to marry me. She said yes. The rest, as they say, is history.
In the darkness, the rain splattered against the roof and windows. Lying back down, I stared at the ceiling, listening to the rain until I finally drifted off again.
I dreamt of Rose again, but this time we were walking down that lane under the same full moon. We stood there and we kissed—one long, lingering moment that lasted until the dawn.
“I love you,” she whispered, and the sun was shining bright and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next day—yesterday—was Day Forty-two. That’s when the people from Baltimore fell out of the sky.
I woke up the same time as always, still tired and groggy from the dreams about Rose. The bedroom was hot and sticky, and my pajamas clung to me. The weather had sent the humidity climbing. The extremes in temperature were just another weird effect of the constant rain. One moment it was sweltering and the next you needed a sweater to keep warm.
As usual, I reached for my dip out of habit and grumbled when it wasn’t there. But I cheered up when I heard Carl moving about in his room. I’d forgotten he was here; his presence was a comfort.
My body creaked and groaned as I climbed out of bed. I rubbed the stiffness from my joints and slipped into my old faded bathrobe. It was ripe enough to stand up on its own, so I reminded myself that I would have to do laundry in the washtub pretty soon. The washtub was an antique; it had belonged to my mother. I’d taken it after she died—sentimentality. But now that the power was out, it came in handy.
Other than the sounds drifting from Carl’s room and the endless droning of the rain, the house was quiet. I listened for the bird and then I remembered what had happened the day before. After that, my good mood soured again.
Carl must have heard me moving about. He came out of his room and we greeted each other sleepily. He looked tired, and I wondered if he’d had bad dreams, too. If so, he didn’t mention it and I didn’t ask. But there were dark circles under Carl’s eyes, circles that hadn’t been there yesterday, and his face looked drawn and haggard.
I went outside to pee, and while I stood there yawning, I noticed the earthworms were still on my carport— now at least a foot deep. The image of the worms in my dream came to me then and I shivered, forcing it from my mind.
I closed my eyes and listened to the rain. Then I went back inside.
We had leftover stew and instant coffee for breakfast, and when we were done, I fooled with the crossword puzzle book a little more, still trying to think of a three-letter word for peccadillo.
“It has to stop sometime,” Carl mused, watching the rain from the living room’s big picture window. “I mean, it can’t rain all the time, can it? The Lord wouldn’t allow something like that.”
I gummed my pencil and tried to concentrate.
“Teddy?”
“Hmm?”
“What if it don’t stop? You ever think about that? What if the rain just keeps falling?”
“Then it’s going to be a mighty rough winter. Can you imagine what will happen once the temperature drops below freezing and all this water turns into snow and ice?”
“No, I hadn’t thought of that. As bad as things are right now, I reckon that would be worse.”
