The Boy In The Rain

When Google Maps says that the ocean is an hour walk away, it’s not kidding. You should be fully aware that you can trust Google Maps to give you an accurate ETA for your destination and not assume you can get there in half the time because you think you "walk quickly." 

So I head out to the beach from my apartment and before leaving I take one look at my umbrella and says to myself “Should I bring this? ….naaaaaaaaaaah. It only rained this morning, why would it rain any other time today.”

And on the way there it was a good choice. No rain was to be had, except for the rain coming from my arm pits, back, and thighs. I congratulate myself on outsmarting the weather, and give myself a nice pat on my extremely moist back.

Walking along, my map in hand, I finally make it to the beach thanks to a kindly family that took one look at me when I asked for directions, and then asked if they could give me a ride. Why not! I still had a quarter mile to go and by this time I was obnoxiously sweaty and probably just as smelly. 

“Ki ni tsukete, kudasai!” they said as they dropped me off. “Take care of yourself!”

And there it was: dark blue waters against a warm gray sky, crashing onto rocks while silly Japanese pop music blared from speakers that I’m going to assume double as an emergency alarm whenever there’s an earthquake or typhoon.

Ah, the sea! The water was cool, but not cold, and upon taking off my shirt I realized that I, who never sweats, had made a complete mess of the back of my shirt. I also smelled like fish. Which is weird. Because I don’t smell like fish. But the water is nice, the sand was fine, and I stretched out under the overcast sky spreading myself thin as I tried to soak up every last drop of sun that might be squeezing through those clouds overhead.

Finally it’s time to head back. It’s one hell of a walk, and frankly it’s already 4:30 and I don’t want it to get too dark before I get back to my--CRASH. THUNDERRRRRRRRRRR. RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIN RAIN RAIN RAIN RAIN RAIN RAIN RAIN RAIN WET WET WET WET

Wow. 

Wow. 

What. Just. Happened. It was like the clouds had decided to look down upon the city and say “Screw you, city! I’m tired of you coming between me and the earth! It’s all out waaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.” 

And in about 30 whole seconds I’m drenched. My hair is a mess, the my shoes are pretty much thrashed, once again soaked through. I look like a wet dog. I probably smell like one too.

I quickly find the nearest overhang I can and I hide for a bit, trying to dry off and thinking that the rain might just let up just as quick as it started, but to no avail. No, the rain just intensifies. It’s sending out the reserve troops in an attempt to completely destroy the city and as it comes down it’s so loud that it’s hard to hear anything except for the rain. And I stand there, looking down the long street ahead wondering if I’m ever going to get home or if I should just take a seat and get comfortable for a while.

“Kasa” says a tiny little voice from behind me.

I turn around and see the tiniest little boy holding a dark blue umbrella that’s nearly as tall as he is. He holds it up to me.

I smile and say “Daijoubu desu!” waving my hands at him to say “No, it’s okay! I’m fine!” ….Really, I know I look like I wet mess, and frankly I am, but I smile and tell him it’s okay when suddenly out steps his father.

“Please take it!” he says smiling, and I just laugh because of how absolutely ridiculous and helpless I must look. “We want to give it to you.” I look at him a little warily, I’m not sure how to accept things in Japanese culture gracefully, but now the father is holding it out to me, so I take it, give a little bow, and say “Domo arigtaou gozaimasu.” They smile, wave, and I just laugh.

So the next day I returned the umbrella to the same spot where I got it and I left some American candy tied to it.

Hopefully they'll take it as a "Thank You" and not a "Hey, eat this poison candy little child!" because that would just be awkward.