The Rain Cue

Wesley works backstage at a small city theatre. He is a stagehand. He moves the chairs and the tables. He pulls the ropes. He also makes the rain.

The rain machine is a long wooden box. It is full of dry rice. Wesley turns the box. The rice falls and makes a soft sound. The audience thinks it is rain.

Rhea works in the next room. She makes the costumes. All day she sews dresses and coats. She hums when she works. Wesley can hear her through the wall. He likes the sound, but he never says so.

Tonight is the first night of a new play. Wesley checks the rain box twice. Then Rhea comes in. She has a green coat in her hand.

"Hi," she says. "Is this the famous rain machine?"

"Yes," says Wesley. His voice is small.

"Can I hear it?"

He turns the box. The rice falls. Rhea listens with her head to one side.

"It is nice," she says. "But it is quiet. The people in the back rows will not hear it."

Wesley frowns. "The director likes it soft."

"Soft is good. But thin is not." Rhea looks around the room. "Do you have beans?"

"Beans?"

"My grandmother makes rain with dry beans. They are heavier. Try a few."

Wesley laughs. It is a strange idea. But he finds dry beans in the kitchen. He puts a handful in the box. He turns it again.

Now the sound is full and deep. It sounds like real rain on a roof.

"Oh," he says. "Oh, that is much better."

Rhea smiles. "I told you."

The play starts at eight. Wesley stands in the dark by the stage. His hands are cold. The rain cue comes in the second act. He waits.

Someone touches his arm. It is Rhea. She stands next to him in a black sweater.

"I want to see the rain scene," she whispers. "Can I stay here?"

"Yes," says Wesley. His heart is fast.

On the stage, an actress opens a window. She looks out. The light turns grey and blue.

"Now," whispers Rhea.

Wesley turns the box. The rice and beans fall. The sound is warm and strong. In the dark theatre, people lean forward. Someone near the front says, "Ah."

The scene ends. The lights go down. Wesley lets out his breath.

"It was perfect," Rhea says.

"It was your idea," he says.

"It was our rain," she says.

After the show, the director comes backstage. She looks at Wesley and shakes his hand.

"The rain was wonderful tonight," she says. "Who changed it?"

Wesley looks at Rhea. Rhea looks at Wesley.

"We did," they say together.

Later the theatre is empty. Wesley puts the chairs away. Rhea folds the green coat.

"Next week there is a storm scene," he says. "It needs thunder. Do you want to help me make it?"

"With what?" asks Rhea.

"A big metal sheet. It is very loud."

Rhea smiles. "Only if I can stand next to you again."

Wesley picks up the metal sheet. His ears are red. He carries it into the light.