Profitable Weather

When you wake up on a life changing day, do you realize what is going to happen?  No, you don't.  A person gets up in the morning expecting a normal day and then things happen that change them forever, although one could argue that anything that ever happens to a person has indeed changed them forever.

Still, when you wake up in the morning, the first thought is not generally 'Today is going to be life changing.'  I'm just pointing out this just in case that is someone's thought in the morning.

Well, today at lunch I realized that I had forgotten my phone at home when I had rushed out the door, late as usual.  It isn't that I hate my job or that traffic was terrible.  I'm just always late.  The difference is that I was late for being late this morning.  So, all day I worried about missed calls, texts, what was happening in the social media forums.  I felt out of the loop.

I wasn't able to run home to get it on my break because I would have been late coming back and I didn't need any help being late twice in one day.  Patiently waiting for the day to be over was more difficult than usual without my normal distraction device.  So, when the clock rolled past 'Time to go home' I packed up and headed out with everyone else.

The clouds were beginning to sweep in as I started up my car for the drive home.  It looked to be quite the storm coming in and I was in more of a hurry to get home because of the weather reports I was hearing on the radio, interrupting a few of my favorite songs.  My wife would be waiting at home and by now she probably realized my phone was sitting innocently on the kitchen table.  Hopefully she wasn't worrying too much; I was trying not to.

As soon as it began raining I began worrying.  Already the rain was torrential and the streets were filling with water.  I had to slow down to allow the car time to adjust to the water accumulating on the pavement.  Taking deep breaths seemed to help with my nerves and all I really wanted was to be at home with my wife watching the storm out the window in the kitchen.  That was all I wanted.

Pulling into my drive was the most relieving feeling.  I turned the windshield wipers off and put the car in park.  Running through the puddles into the house got me drenched even though it was only a few feet away.  My wife was curled up on the couch in a blanket watching the storm progress on the weather station.  She had a cup of steaming tea on the floor beside her and I went directly to the bedroom to change out of my wet clothes.

A cup of tea was waiting for me when I came back out and I took it gratefully and held it in my hands to warm them up.  We sat quietly watching the storm pulse in greens, oranges, and reds on the television screen.

"It’s a big one, Joe."

I nodded and stood to go look out of the window.  We hadn't had a good storm in so long that I almost had forgotten how incredible they can be.  My wife came in and leaned her head against my shoulder and looked out the window with me.  Then the power went out.  She let out a deep sigh and went to gather some candles while I searched for the lighters.

We had gathered back in the kitchen when a thunderous boom rattled the house and sent the dog howling into the laundry room.  I assumed she was most likely cowering under the spacious bottom shelf in the closet.  I had never heard a thunder clap as loud before and I was sure it wasn't something that normally occurred.  I was turning to tell this to my wife when we were blinded by a flash of lightning and another clap of thunder, just as loud, boomed through the house.  I felt the hair on my arms suddenly stand up and then when the flash faded I looked back out the window trying to assess if any damage had occurred.

"We were just struck by lightning weren't we?" my wife asked.

"I think so.  But, Sam, look at the water," I said pointing to the droplets falling out over the gutters.

They were sparkling more than if light was shining through them.  It was like they were sparkling all by themselves.  I followed a droplet with my eyes watching it hit the ground.  But, unlike normal raindrops, it bounced.  We didn't say anything as we continued to watch the water fall to the ground and bounce before settling into a motionless state.

"What the hell?"

We waited patiently until the storm had moved on past the town.  Carefully we crept outside and examined the droplets that were still lying in piles on the grass.  Sam bent down and poked one gingerly with her finger and she gasped.

"It's solid!"

"What?  How can rain be solid?" I asked crouching down next to her.

Solid.  The water droplets were solid!

"Joe, I don't think this is water."

"It's ice."

"No, it's not," said Sam slowly.

I couldn't understand what she was getting at, but she was transfixed with the droplet in her hand.

"Joe," she said looking around, "there are hundreds of these here.  I'm not sure, but I think they may be . . ."

"May be . . . what?"

"I think . . . I think they're diamonds."

"You what?"

"Diamonds, Joe.  Real, honest to God diamonds."

"Well shit," I said sitting back on my heels.

"Second honeymoon here we come," smiled Sam.

"We'll take them to Bo.  Just to make sure they are real," I said.  "Don't give me that look, I just want to make sure first."

"Alright, but no one will believe us when we say where we got them."

"We'll not say then."

We gathered up all the gems we could find and then hoped to God they were really real.   The next day we went to visit a friend of Sam's father who dealt with gems and precious stones.

"These are perfect," he said, "There are no scratches, perfect gems.  What'd they do?  Fall out the sky?"
He chuckled and we just smiled politely.

"Got your future set is all I can say," Bo finally said taking a little gem and putting it under a magnifying glass.

"Set," he said, emphasizing his point.

We took our diamonds back home and put them on the bed to look at them.

"What are we going to do with them all?" whispered Sam.

"Second honeymoon and then we'll figure it out.  One step at a time."

We smiled at each other and then began to laugh uncontrollably.




Profitable Weather © 2013 Katherine Kovanda