THE WEATHER MAN
“Thank-you for coming to visit me. It’s so nice to have someone to talk with, it does get rather lonely at times, though I’m happy to be here.
I can’t understand why He has picked on me so? There must be hundreds of other people who have cursed The Weather Man; think of all those arrangements that have been ruined when the forecast was wrong – the garden parties, the fetes, the sports meetings, so many things. The organisers must have cursed Him then. Yes, I did say some really terrible curses when He rained on my wedding day.”
“It wasn’t your wedding day, remember? It was a friend’s wedding that you were going to.”
“Well, it was as important to me as if it had been my own day. It upset me just as much. I made up some awful curses for Him. I didn’t realise they heard.”
“Who? Who heard?”
“Whoever told Him. I couldn’t see them so I didn’t know they were there. But someone must have heard me and told Him. It must have made Him angry and that’s when He changed my weather.”
“Which weather man was this?”
“Just The Weather Man. They’re all the same.”
“What do you mean, ‘They’re all the same’ ?”
“It’s Him. He just changes the way He looks and they put a different name on the screen. But they’re all Him.”
“And you think he’s punishing you for cursing him?”
“I know He is. It’s worse than punishing, it’s grown worse; I think He wants to kill me.”
“Grown worse? Tell me, how did it begin, how has it grown worse?”
“My wedding day was at the end of summer. It should have been a warm day, a golden day, He forecast a sunny day. Then it rained! It was all dull, clouds and the wind blew the dress and the veil all over the place, made a tangle, and there was no chance to take lovely pictures outside of the church. It was all ruined. He ruined it so I cursed Him.”
“And then . . . .?”
“Nothing right away, but after a couple of weeks they began to whisper in my ear when I was out walking. I don’t know what they said ‘cause I couldn’t understand their language, but it was nasty, sort of hissing, menacing. They were threats.”
“And who was this, whispering?”
“I think it was the winds. He sent the winds. He was cunning, He sent these gentle winds at first so that I wasn’t afraid of the winds themselves but their whispering frightened me. Later He sent the bigger winds to really frighten me.”
“Tell me about that. When the bigger winds came.”
“They began to knock me about, when I walked down the road they’d suddenly push me. They nearly pushed me off the pavement so I’d be knocked down and killed by the traffic – that’s probably what they were trying to do.”
“And you say it got worse?”
“Yes, because the winds got colder. He knows I don’t like the cold, but they got colder and often more fierce. There were some days when I could hardly walk against the wind. Oh, He was punishing me. He sent the winds in the night, really strong, smashing against my house. They terrified me. I lay in my bed hearing the roof groaning as the winds tore at it. I was in a box and The Weather Man was trying to take the lid off so that He could reach inside and seize me.”
“And what do you think he would do then?”
“Hurl me up into the air. Throw me around. Knock me against trees. Roll me all over the countryside. Make me suffer until I died.”
“But you fought back.”
“I had to. I had nothing to lose.”
“I have some idea of what happened but you tell me about it.”
“The night was like those I was just telling you about, with the wind tearing at the roof, the whole house shaking. I hardly slept at all. As it was growing light the rain came hammering against the window, but it wasn’t all rain, the noise was too hard, there were claws in the rain. Whatever He had sent was scratching at the glass, trying to rake its way in. it was so close! I hid under the duvet, but after a while I realised that there was no protection in that. I sat up and shouted, “Go away!’, but of course it didn’t. Perhaps I grew braver because the roof stayed on and the window glass didn’t break, and I got angrier and angrier at The Weather Man ruining my life.”
“You got so brave and angry that you opened the window.”
“Yes, I did. I decided to challenge Him. I opened the window, daring the rain and the claws in the rain to do their worst. As I said, I had nothing to lose. I shouted, can’t remember exactly, things like, ‘Come and get me then’ and ‘Where are you, Weather Man? Show yourself if you dare.’
“That made people stop in the street. It was rather unusual. Did it bother you, the crowd gathering to look at you?”
“It made me angrier, because I guessed that He was one of the men standing there, hiding Himself amongst the others.”
“Did you recognise him?”
“No. I didn’t know which of them He planned to look like. He changes himself.”
“And then?”
“I went to find Him, meet him, challenge Him.”
“You took an axe.”
“Yes. I went downstairs and collected the axe from the wood-store, then went to the front door and out side and showed them the axe and called to Him to come and face me.”
“But he didn’t.”
“No. I stayed there shouting at the men in the crowd, asking which of them was The Weather Man. But no-one moved.”
“The Police came.”
“That was alright. They said they would protect me and stay with me until something could be sorted out. And they did, until the other man came and brought me to this safe house.”
“And you say you are happy to be here?”
“Oh yes. He can’t get at me here. See the tough glass and the bars at the window, He won’t get through there, and they lock the door if I get worried. So I’m safe here. They’ll let me go home again when they’ve sorted out the problem with The Weather Man.”
“That’s fine. You try to forget about The Weather Man and get some good nights’ sleep. I’ll come and talk to you again tomorrow.”
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