Convergence

“There’s something about a good rain, you know?”

Matt considered for a moment before answering. Outside, in the late November gray, a steady rain pitter-pattered away at the cabin roof. A rain at the cabin was different, more pure. There wasn’t any noise or modern humming in the place. Nothing but the rain and the clanking of glasses from the kitchen where Bill Putney was searching the cabinet for the good whiskey. “Yeah, don’t I know it,” Matt replied.

Bill looked at him from across the cabin. Matt felt the eyes on him but looked straight ahead through the grimy windowpanes. The world outside was soft and austere.

“Hey,” Bill said. Matt glanced over and he continued “don’t be too sore about it.”

“I ain’t sore about it,” Matt Draper replied.

“Maybe, but you’re gonna be. I know you too well. Just take a load off.”

“What do you think I’m doin’?” Matt retorted.

“Ruminating, by the looks of it. I’m tellin’ you, don’t be too sore.”

Matt nodded in assent but knew inwardly he was in all likelihood going to be sore about it at some point, and probably soon. But Bill was right: he ought to take a load off. He resolved not to let the good rain go to waste. When Bill returned from the kitchen he had found the good whiskey, or maybe the only whiskey, but to Matt it was good enough.

They sat in silence for a good while; the percussion of the rain filling the space with an intangible solace. The trees outside were being consumed slowly by a rising tide of ghostly fog. Their sodden heads barely keeping above water. It was the kind of day when you couldn’t tell where the earth ended and the sky began.

“How you feelin’?” Bill asked.

“I ain’t too sore yet,” Matt said. “Think the rain’s helping. Somethin’ to fill the space, you know?”

“You gotta get outta your head”

“Easier said than done. How would you deal with it?”

Bill paused before saying “dunno, jus’ listen to my heart I guess. Hope I did the right thing.”

“What if you didn’t?”

Bill paused again, this time much longer. “How would I ever know? Figure it’s as right as anything.”

Matt ran his fingers through his hair and sat back. The old chair creaked. He was suddenly aware of his heartbeat in a way he didn’t care to be. It took his focus from the rain. “If we’re gonna sleep here we oughta make sure we got dry wood.”

“I was fixin’ to head back before long. You wanna stay?

“Yeah, I think I do. You don’t have to if you don’t want. Oughta check the wood either way, though.”

“Shed looked packed on the way in. I guess I’ll stay too then. Do you good not to be alone right now.”

“I’m gonna go check the wood,” Matt said.

“Hey, I ain’t too sore about it. You shouldn’t be neither.” Bill said to him as was putting his gloves on. Matt nodded in acknowledgment then headed outside.

The rain had been constant for hours. The ground felt like a sponge and threatened to suck him in at every step as he made his way towards the woodshed. Along the way he stopped to look at Bill’s truck. After considering it for a moment he went back inside without ever going to the woodshed.

Bill looked up as he came in. “Where’s the wood?” he asked.

Matt ignored the question. “Think we oughta put a tarp over the truck bed?”

Bill took a drink of whiskey then said “yeah, probably.”

Matt went out to the woodshed and found a spare tarp. Turning around he heard the wet plodding of a vehicle making its way up the road from the treeline. Making his way to the truck he fastened the tarp over the bed just in time for a gray SUV to emerge, making its way toward the cabin. He went back inside.

“Amanda’s here,” he announced.

Bill groaned because he was just starting to feel good with the whiskey, and set his glass down. “What do you think she wants?”

“Reckon she’s pretty sore,” Matt replied.

By now the SUV could be heard pulling up outside near the door, its tires peeling along the besodden ground. Bill stood up and made his way over to the door. Matt was taking his gloves off and fixing himself a drink. Without a word Bill went outside and waited near the door while a small brown-haired woman got out of the SUV. She was pretty but clearly in a bad way. She was disheveled and frantic, but embraced Bill warmly. They chatted a moment before coming inside.

She sat down on the sofa while Bill put a blanket around her. Despite being soaked with rain her bloodshot eyes showed she’d been crying. She acknowledged Matt with a friendly nod and a smile. He nodded in return from where he stood in the kitchen nursing a freshly-poured whiskey. They didn’t have the closest relationship but they were friendly. His heartbeat was back again. He’d almost forgotten it while being out in the rain.

Bill made her a drink and sat down across from her. Matt announced he was going back outside to get some wood.

The pleasant pitter-patter was becoming a torrent. This disappointed Matt. Not that he cared much about being wet, rain was never an inconvenience for him. More that it was harder to meditate upon a heavier rain. It was still somewhat pleasant but a little too serious, especially for how he felt at the moment. There was indeed plenty of dry wood, as it was never truly in question. He tucked a few logs under his jacket and went back inside, pausing for a second to check the tarp over Bill’s truck. He gave it a tug and it satisfied him.

The mood inside was somber. Matt didn’t know Amanda well, but in a way he felt for her. Couldn’t be easy. From the kitchen he leaned over the counter and watched the rain pretending poorly not to overhear what was happening in the other room between Bill and his sister. He truly didn’t want to hear it, but there was nothing but the rain to drown them out and it wasn’t enough.

They went on for nearly an hour. Bill occasionally glanced over at Matt, conflicted but knowing. Amanda became emotionally depleted and just fell into Bill’s arms for a time before finally taking her leave, as it was getting darker and the way back to the road wasn’t easy when it rained like this. She paused briefly at the door and gave Matt a nod. He nodded in kind then came and sat across from Bill, hearing her peel away down the hill and into the darkening fog.

“Poor girl,” Matt broke the silence.

“For now, but she’s gonna be the better for it.” Bill replied.

“Does she buy it?” Matt asked.

“Think so,” Bill answered. “It ain’t too far from the truth, after all.”

“I ought to know her better.”

Bill shot Matt a look. “The hell you oughta.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Matt’s retort dissipated in the chilly cabin air, unanswered. Silence fell for a time. The rain rushed back and filled the uncertain air with its pitter-patter. It gave Matt a chill, but somewhere inside he also felt warm and invited.

“What do you wanna do with it?” he asked Bill, who was sinking into his chair and just staring at the ground.

“We’ll figure it out. I’m about to throw it in for the night. How are we on wood?”

“There’s plenty.”

“Let’s get the fire going then.”

Bill crawled into a sleeping bag in front of the fire and was out for a long time before Matt, who’d gathered some blankets and a pillow and was lying on the couch but wasn’t ready to sleep yet. The pitter-patter now mingled with the crackling of the fire. Matt found a place of sublime calm within the ambiance, and only gave himself over to his drowsiness once he’d gotten his fill.

Some time later Matt’s eyes suddenly opened. The fire had faded and Bill was still fast asleep, but something uneasy had beckoned Matt awake. The pitter-patter was gone. It was still and remarkably quiet. He sat up, looked around, and saw nothing. He held his breath and tried to listen, but heard nothing but the rising drum-roll of his heart. He got like this sometimes. It happened more lately than it had in the past. Bill was always good at talking him down, but he wasn’t going to wake him for something so silly.

Then came a knock at the cabin door. It wasn’t forceful, but unmistakable. Bill shot right up, “What the fuck is that?” he whispered.

“Fuck if I know.” Matt replied.

They waited for another knock but it never came. Eventually they each grabbed their rifles and peered through the front windows.

“Don’t see shit,” Bill said.

“Me neither,” said Matt from the opposite window.

Bill took the lead, slowly opening the door while Matt stood close behind at the ready. “Who’s out there?” Bill called out. After a few moments without an answer he opened the door completely and they both stepped outside. Matt shined a flashlight around and found nothing until the beam fell upon Bill’s truck.

“You gotta be shittin’ me,” said Matt. Bill didn’t say anything, just looked on dumbfounded.

Making their way to the truck they found half the tarp had been unclasped and tossed aside. In the mud an indistinct trail of boot prints could be seen leading up to the door, then away and down the hill.

“Ain’t nothing for him that way. He ain’t gonna make it far.” Matt said.

“Shoulda done it the right way,” Bill said.

“I didn’t mean to do it at all,” Matt responded.

“Yeah, but if it’s gonna be done you might as well make sure it’s right.”

“Fittin’ to practice on you if you don’t shut the fuck up about it.”

“Yeah, bet you would,” Bill said.

After some tense moments of silence Matt spoke up. “Come on, there ain’t nothin’ to see. We either go after him or assume he ain’t gonna make it too far,” Matt said.

Bill sighed and slackened his grip on the rifle. “He ain’t makin’ it nowhere. Nothin’ out that way for miles.”

They made their way back inside. The rain had picked up again, not heavily but enough for some peace. Bill tossed a fresh log on the fire and crawled back into his sleeping bag. Matt collapsed onto the couch, calmed his heart, and gradually succumbed to the crackling and the pitter-patter.