Last night, as I was heading out from school, I left the well-lit library to find incredibly dark hallways. As I passed an adjoining hallway, I joked with a group of girls who seemed to be heading in my direction. We all headed down the hallway and downstairs in a goofy, laughing group, and were met at the front doors by a group of students and pouring rain. I sighed at the rain, and began to accept my wet and cold fate, but slowly. I was mostly concerned about my backpack and the fact that I’d only just this week left home without my backpack rain cover.
“No umbrella?” one of the girls asked me.
There were several other nods to these statements.
“Six people. One umbrella.” They all laughed, and I with them.
I quickly corrected the ‘too’ to ‘neither’, and we all set out to the entranceway’s outdoor covering, where another group of students was standing around. With only a brief pause, as though to psych ourselves up, we then shot out into the rain with squeals and laughter and sloshes and splashes in what seemed like every direction.
As we bounded down the hill, I fell behind with calls for being careful on the slippery slope that had developed from our driveway. One girl called out to me, and urged me closer to her. She was on her own now, the pack of howling girls just ahead. But she had the umbrella, so I had little hesitation in joining her beneath it.
As we made our final descent to the train station, she struggled through bits of English to inform me that her grandmother’s car would be waiting for her after the bus, and so she only needed to get to the bus at the station, and then would not need her umbrella, so would I please take it? I eventually acquiesced, thanked gratefully, and told her to come to my desk the next day to pick up her umbrella. She was delighted, and so was I. I was delighted beyond reason at the scenario itself, and I was naturally excited that the contents of my bag were now safe. What an evening! 🙂