Hats aren't normally a thing paraded around as special. Hats are just hats, often even so not special that they cannot be bothered to be noticed. But Rebecca's hat was special. If only to her, that still made it special. But it truly was.
Some days it rained only on Rebecca. Most days though, she was thoroughly avoided by rain. A nimble fairy, with a whimsical essence allowing her to dodge raindrops. The clouds loomed overhead nonetheless. It seems to me, she thought, the clouds were worse than the rain. Stuck in the air like black paint fallen from a bottle. Jagged and hazy; a sky barricade.
Yesterday Rebecca's brother died. He was a priest. He used to be. Not because he is dead, because he quit. His last day in the church he casually walked out the doors, entering his new life. He walked with a spring in his step up until he got to the stone stairs and slipped. He toppled down, landing hard on his skull and cracking it. His brain bounced around as they are wont to do, even though it's so bad for them. This one was so bad that it never worked again afterwords. It rained that day. It rained today, too. But not on Rebecca.
The next day she went to the church to talk to the new priest. It made sense to her. She sat down next to him in the pew and folded her hands in her lap, staring daggers at nothing at all. Her head was so severely limp on her shoulders it looked as if her neck would sever any moment. The priest spoke first.
"Rebecca I'm sorry about your brother, he was a truly good man and a capable priest."
"Some say it was an act of god. You know people said that to me. That he turned his back on the church."
"No one can speak for God."
"I think it was an act of weather. The rain did it."
"It may have played a factor, but rain does not kill."
"Rain hasn't touched me in a while and I'm just fine."
"Rain touched your brother often, and he only just left us."
She was stoic and fierce. The priest adjusted his seating to face her. She did not match his gaze, though you couldn't tell because the olive green brim of her hat concealed most of her face anyway.
"Rebecca, your brother didn't leave you because he chose to. Your blame doesn't lie with the rain. Fighting the weather is futile and misplaced. You are in the house of God, you are his child. Any rain that falls in here is blessed and sacred. And you share it only with God and I."
Rebecca remained motionless for many more moments. The priest sat patiently, one hand resting in his lap and another on her back. Finally, after an eternity of minutes condensed into one, she looked forward and lifted her hand to her hat, pulling it off gracelessly. It fell to the church floor lightly and without offense. She buried her face in the priest's robes and clutched them tightly. He hugged her gently and closed his eyes. Then for Rebecca the rain came. And it continued to come. It came and went with the winds, as most things do, with the ebb and flow of the spirits. The rain would soak her through and through, and she would return to her normal dry self and repeat with gusto. As the rain came, her hat became less special to her. As all hats do. And order was returned to the hat community as they had once again been reduced to ordinary.
Rain poured down in droves. Rebecca smiled.
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