“Rain!” his high voice wailed.
“But, Dayda, the rain season is over. See, the sky is blue.”
“Bad rain!” Dayda looked frantic. I didn’t know what to do with him. He was the family halfwit, and today he was in my care.
“Dayda, shall we have a picknick in the forest?”
He nodded eagerly. “Pack food. Bad rain coming!”
Sighing, I packed bread, fruit and some cold meats. We would find water in the forest.
“No, Dayda, they have work to do.”
He threw a screaming fit.
“Shall we go or not?”
A little later, he was pulling me through the forest. He only stopped when we had climbed the tall hill behind our village.
“Bad rain”, he sobbed and pointed. A huge black cloud stood there, with lightning flashing through it. Thunder rumbled, so loud it shook the earth.
Then the rain started. Ash fell from the sky, followed by rocks. Dayda curled up on the ground, whimpering. I stared in horror, when a foul smelling flood of mud rolled through the fields and covered my village with everyone living there. I sank to the ground, shaking.
If only we had listened to the halfwit.
Image Source: F. Moebius