The rain did not just fall; it descended in heavy droplets capable of uprooting unstable roof sheets, almost like it had intentions of erasing the world.
Rowan and Mara sat back-to-back on the narrow peak of a Victorian roof, the only island left in a sea of black, churning water. Somehow, that afternoon, the two strangers had been brought together by the rising tide, their shadows shivering against a sky that had seemed to have forgotten it had swallowed the stars.
In Rowan’s freezing hands was the strap of a heavy canvas bag that had a mix of different things- silver spoons, silk watches, and heavy jewelry. At first thought, one would think he was trying to save his treasures from being buried with the flood. But they weren't even his, and he sure didn't know the owner either. He had lifted them from the house three doors down just before the street became a river. With chattering teeth and shivering bones, he adjusted his weight on the roof. His bag of loot clinked softly—a sound of greed that felt absurd in the face of the deluge.
On the other side, Mara tried controlling her breath, but the sharp, shaky breaths of cold and pain still found their way out. Each pain radiated through her abdomen. She was seven months pregnant, her floral dress had been soaked through, and now it clung to her skin. She forced herself not to look at the water, which kept rising with each minute. Instead, age fixed her eyes on the empty space where the horizon used to be, her hands shaky but protectively cupped over her belly.
They had tried to escape with the others, but the flood had overtaken them halfway down the street, swallowing people faster than anyone could run. Now they were stuck on the roof of the tallest building in the street. And from the looks of things the water seems not to be slowing down as it had reached the gutter, then began its slow crawl up the shingles.
"You live here?" Rowan asked. His voice was thin, almost swallowed by the roar of the rain. Although he was in a dilemma too, he felt pity for Mara more. And this question was him thinking of a possible way to keep her calm.
Mara didn't turn around. "No," she said. "I had come to see the father of my baby." She paused, her voice twitched with pain. "The man responsible for my pregnancy."
"And" Rowan continued. He didn't know what exactly to ask. He just spoke as his spirit led.
"He threw me out." She cried. Rowan wasn't about to ask further, but she continued. "I was on my way to the bus stop when the flood came. The rest you know about."
"I'm sorry." He said with pity.
Rowan was about to enjoy the silence when Mara asked. "What about you?"
Rowan looked at the bag between his knees. Then he looked up to the sky. "You know I've always spent my life thinking the world owes me something." He smiled shamefully. "When I heard of the flood. I thought I could make it. Take what belongs to my master as he has flown himself and family to safety. Now, the weight of the silver spoons, silk watches, and treasures has held me back here like an anchor." He pulled the zipper an inch, seeing the glimmer of a pearl necklace that belonged to a woman he once served. "I feel stupid."
Mara reached for his hands and held him tight. "I believe there's still hope for redemption once we get out of here."
Rowan smiled through the pain.
A sickening groan vibrated through the wood. The house was shifting, and the foundation was finally giving way to the pressure of the flood. The roof was gradually tilting sharply to the left. Rowan got up and lunged forward. He grabbed Mara’s arm and let her up. He looked around for anything. Anything at all that could save them
On the side, a heavy oak door, torn from its frame and buoyed by a thick slab of foam insulation, floated towards them. It was stopped by the chimney of the house they sat on. He took a deep breath, just what they needed-a makeshift raft. Rowan stared at it, then at the water that was now swirling around their waist.
"Hold on!" He yelled at Mara. Then he dived into the water and reached for the door hauling it closer. "Get on," he said.
Mara reached out to his outstretched arm as he braced himself on the chimney, and with his help, she transitioned from the roof to the door. Rowan turned to pick up his bag of loot, but it had already vanished into the depths of the water. The door dipped low, barely supporting her weight.
"The door is too small for two. It can't hold!" Rowan said. He didn't try to climb on.
"We can manage, look," Mara replied, adjusting to let him on. But Rowan smiled and gave the wood a final, steady push, sending Mara out into the main current where the water was calmer.
"The current will drift you to the horizon. Stay still!" He yelled instructions to her. In his eyes was fear and hope.
"No! What about you?"
"Don't fret about me. I'll join you soon." Somehow he knew he was lying not just to Mara but to himself.
Making sure she was drifting the right way. He jumped back on the vanishing chimney, watching her drift toward the first grey light of dawn.
The water rose to his chest, and he finally let go.