Precipitation
“So, you can really make it rain?” the mayor asked anxiously. He was still dubious of my claims, but desperate for reassurance.
“Yes, I can, Sir. All of Precipitation Professionals’ services are backed by a 100% money back guarantee. If I can’t make it rain, you get your money back. That’s my iron-clad promise.”
“Well, I suppose we can’t really go wrong with that,” he replied with a wan smile. “We have tried everything else and we need to do something about this drought. Otherwise, we might as well shut down the whole damn town.”
“I understand completely. I will make it rain for you.”
“Very well, Mr. Jackson. I’ll take you at your word and have the contract signed and approved by the town council by tomorrow morning. When can you start?”
“As soon as I have my copy of the contract and the deposit in my account. So, unless there is a hold-up on your end, I can set up tomorrow morning and have it raining by the end of the day.”
“Great! We have a deal!” the mayor exclaimed enthusiastically and held out his hand. I shook it formally, giving him a professional smile that conveyed competence and absolute confidence in my abilities. Or so I hoped. People always think their gestures and mannerisms are communicating something, although, in my experience, it is rarely what they believe it to be. But as a professional rainmaker, you have to be on top of your game when it comes to dealing with people. There are so many frauds out there and it’s so easy for desperate people to get caught up in endless scams.
I should know, because in my own special way I am a fraud, too. No, not in the way you think. I can make it rain and will do so for a small fee. My company Precipitation Professionals, which really just consists of me and a part-time accountant who handles my billing, has glowing reviews online and with the BBB. Nobody has ever complained about my services.
My fraud is of a different nature. I have always had an affinity for water in all forms. Bottled, tapped, springing from a well. Molten ice rushing down mountainsides in roaring cascades in spring. I like the ocean, I adore lakes and rivers, and most of all, I love rain. That feeling of moisture-laden static building up in the atmosphere, the heavy scent of ozone in the air as the first drops begin to fall, the rush of the downpour hitting the dry earth in heavy drops that splash up into ephemeral miniature craters of water. I love mist, drizzle, and downpour. Water is what I live for.
The lie I tell my clients every time I make it rain concerns my methodology. I have a large trailer filled with gadgets and gear; computers, cannons that shoot silver iodide, Doppler radar dishes, and complex digital barometers. I set everything up, pretend to analyse the weather conditions and act as if I manipulate the raw force of nature with my puny devices.
How perfectly ridiculous the notion is! How laughable and absurd. The fact is that I can make it rain merely by wishing for rain. Implausible as it may sound, I have a natural affinity for water and an innate talent to call upon elementals, who accede to my wishes and do my bidding.
Unfortunately, that sounds more ridiculous than my elaborate subterfuge and charade of harnessing technology. In this age of science and reason, I have to make the narrative believable to modern man – and woman, of course.
The next morning I rolled into town with my equipment, set up on the lawn in front of the town hall, drawing a fair share of onlookers. I made all the proper scientific motions, answered a few questions – mostly from curious kids – and finally settled down inside the trailer that doubled as my command centre. I closed the door, telling people that I needed to analyse the data I had collected and that they could expect rain any time now. Then I focused my concentration inward, feeling the wetness, the traces moisture in the air, the water inside my own body – on average the water content is about 60% - and called out to the elementals. The air elementals were always easy to contact. They are wispy and whimsical, just like their natural element and they assembled their gentle might into a coherent effort to bring the clouds and the water. The water elementals are different. They can be fluid like a gentle stream, but they can also be truculent like the rapids in a river, violent like a gale on a lake, brutal like a storm in the ocean. I braced myself and they fell into line. All except for one. Elementals don’t have names like we do, but they have personalities and this particular one had given me problems before. It complained that I always asked and never gave, that I commanded instead of pleading, that I was no true friend to water. So I asked and pleaded and cajoled, worried for the first time in my career that the rain would not come. I wrested with it through sheer will until at least, it finally acquiesced to my request. A crack of thunder, the breeze picking up. Moments later I heard the first raindrops on the roof of my trailer. It was raining! The drought was finally over!
I collected the balance of my fee and drove off to my next job.
Yesterday I happened to check the news. Apparently, it was still raining in that little part of the world. The town was drowning beneath floods and mudslides. There had been an emergency declaration and people were leaving town.
That little bastard of an elemental!
I feel betrayed and let down! So, now I’ll go back and try to fix the weather. And I won’t even charge them for it!