Pup Origins - A Rainy Night in New Orleans
To tell you the truth, I couldn’t tell you what her name was now. I couldn’t even tell you what she looked like anymore. If she walked past me today, I’m not sure I would even notice. Well, that’s not entirely true. When I walk past people, sometimes when they smile, I can see her in their smile. A smile that makes my heart skips a beat, and a smile that I can’t help but return. For a brief moment, everything comes back to me. A smile that would always be with me.
We wandered through the streets of the city. Not a clue where we were going. For me, I didn’t care where we were going, just as long as we kept going. Every now and then we would step in a store to check out all the fabulous crap on the walls. The croc jaws, the funny t-shirts with the bikini body in the front (very classy), and of course beads and assorted hot sauces. It was carefree and easy. I was just enjoying the moment. Some of these same stores that I had been in earlier that night, it was fun to point out things that I had noticed, and to have things pointed out to me that I missed.
After a while, the two of us began to feel a bit more comfortable with each other. The funny hat/glasses shop surly helped. Her mood had changed a great deal. Gone was the slightly down, hoody covered gal. Now, she was more actively cheery and talkative, the hood off her head with her hair free. The flower now decorates her head.
We talked about a world of things, about what we’ve seen in the city, where we’re from, and other random things. The conversation was light, but not superficial. More importantly, it was fun, and it flowed like two people who knew this would be the last conversation they would ever have with each other. Even with the silliest subjects, the conversation would last for blocks and blocks.
During our wanderings around the city, we ended up at the park (the part that’s in front of the big church for those of you that have been there). When we got here, the skies had darken to a solid black. The moonlight consumed by the darkness, and drops of rain began to fell.
I’ve never been afraid of walking in the rain. I’ve never owned an umbrella, not even today. I didn’t have any opinion on it one way or anything about walking in the rain back then, I just didn’t mind. It's just rain after all.
The rain began coming down harder and harder. I was about to mention this to her, and before I said a word, she suggested that we go over to the granite bench under this big tree (Sit under a tree during a storm. Good idea, I know) inside this park. I don’t remember how we got in the park, whether the gates were unlocked or we climbed the small fence, but we managed to get it.
We took our time walking towards the tree. I looked at her with the dim street light over looking the park. She had a wonderful glow about her and seemed happy. Happy with being in the rain, and walking around in the rain (somewhere in there, I was hoping I had something to do with that happy too).
She told me she’s always enjoyed the rain, that rain is like a cleansing for the land, and that the rain is meal time for all the living things to grow and live. At times, some of this seemed almost hookey, but still. Our conversation never wandered, nor did it slow during the rain.
After a bit under a tree, the rain slowed to a steady fall. A slight fog was rising, but the moonlight was beginning to sneak back into the skies. The park seemed almost errie as voices from the Quarter died down during the rain. I was looking up at the moon, a beautiful half moon, as it peeked out from behind the darkenss. All of a sudden, ~smack~
To be continued....