Room for the Rain
"Where does the sea keep all its warm?" Elif asked, stepping into the shallows. Rosa hopped beside her, one ear up, one ear folded over. The water came to Elif's ankles and held her there, soft as soup. She crouched and ran her hand across the ribbed sand. It felt like corduroy under her fingers: ridge, dip, ridge, dip. Rosa patted a ridge with one paw and left four small dents. The moon sat low and white above the water, not yet bright. Far out, the sea lifted itself and set itself down again, slow. "Everything here is taking its time," Elif said.
They waded to the long pool below the black rocks. Elif knew that pool by feel. The rim was crusty with limpets, rough as burnt toast. Inside, the weed was velvet, and the pebbles were smooth as plums. An anemone closed on her fingertip and let go again, polite. Rosa leaned over the water until her whiskers touched it and made rings. Elif set three shells on the warm ledge: a ridged one, a glassy one, a chalky one. "That one's for you," she told Rosa, nudging the chalky one closer. Rosa sniffed it and put her chin down on the stone.
Then the light changed. The white went out of the air and a green-grey came in. Elif looked up. A cloud was walking toward them across the water, dragging its long skirt. The wind arrived first, cool on the back of her neck. It pushed the flat sea into tiny scales. Rosa's folded ear lifted, just a little. "Rain," Elif said. The first drop landed on the pool and made one perfect ring. Then another. Then too many to count, and the pool's skin went pebbly all over. The rain was warm, warmer than the wind.
All along the rocks, things began to shift. A crab backed under a ledge and folded its claws in. Two gulls turned to face the wind and sat down like loaves. The anemone drew itself into a small red button. Elif moved her three shells to the dry hollow under the overhang. Then she scooted sideways and left a gap. "Budge up, there's room for everyone," she said. Rosa hopped into the gap and pressed against her knee, warm and damp. A periwinkle came sliding slowly along the ledge, and Elif moved her hand so it could pass.
Rosa's flopped ear grew heavy with rain and flopped a little further. Elif found a wide strip of kelp lying on the stones nearby. It was cool and rubbery, like a wet ribbon, and it smelled green. She shook it, spread it, and held it over the two of them with both hands. The rain drummed on it, tap tap tappa tap. Underneath it was dim and brown and loud and dry. Rosa's ear came up again. Drops ran off the edges in four small streams. Elif's arms ached a bit, so she rested her elbows on her knees and kept holding.
The pool took the rain without any fuss. It brimmed, then tipped a thin sheet over its low side, back into the sea. The sand drank and darkened. Everything that had moved over had made exactly enough space. Far out, something large rose and let out a long breath, and a puff of white hung over the water until the rain took it. Elif felt it in her chest more than in her ears. "There it goes again," she whispered. Rosa's nose moved. Together they watched the grey skirt of the cloud walk on past them.
The drumming thinned, tap… tap… and then it was only dripping from the kelp's edge. Elif lowered her arms. The air was washed and warm and smelled of salt and stone. Steam came off the black rocks in slow threads. The crab came out and checked its ledge. The gulls stood up and shook. The anemone opened again, slow as a hand unclosing. Elif put her three shells back where they had been, with the chalky one closest to Rosa. "Budge up, there's room for everyone," she said, lying down on the warm wet stone.
Rosa lay down beside her and fitted into the curve of her arm. Her fur was damp on top and dry underneath, and it smelled like rain and rabbit. Elif laid the kelp over them both like a thin blanket. The moon came out of the cloud and set a white road on the water. The sea went in and out against the rocks, in, and out. Rosa's side rose and fell under Elif's hand. Elif's breath found the same slow time, in, and out, and the pool breathed its thin sheet over the edge, and over, and over.
