rain

it rained twice on us - more on jimbo than me because he was driving the open, old style jeep when the first storm hit just north of lewes, and i was safe and dry in the pontiac, setting the pace.  i watched in the rear view mirror as he got deluged and laughed as he swiped at his glasses, futilely, to push away the water.


we were on our way to assateague to surf fish and planned to camp on the beach for a night or so.


we made the transition in rehoboth easily and were soon on our way to the island.  no rainstorms plagued us on the trip and pie was waiting to ferry us across the bay.


once on assateague we turned south, heading for the virginia line where we were going to camp near the three house outpost that marked the southern end of maryland.


tent pitched, we fished, wonderfully alone - there were no visitors in the houses - well into the evening.  a meal of some sort was eaten and we fished again.  at some point one of us looked west - at the ominous approaching cloud cover.  wind preceded the rain and we just had time to secure our rods and dive into the tent.  lightning crashed around us as the rain fell in torrents.  we were dry until i touched the canvas inadvertantly - disaster...water poured into the tent.  we decided to make for one of the stilted houses and ran, carrying the only light source we had, a lantern, and arrived, sheltered from the rain for the moment, at the foot of the stairs that led to a small landing from which - locked - doors led to, we supposed, the living quarters.  jimbo fumbled with the lantern while i tried the door handles.


the rain was still hammering down so we decided to stay where we were - on the little landing, lit by dim lantern light.  after about a half hour jimbo suddenly said, "i feel sick."  "i do too," i replied.  "what do you suppose got us.  something we ate."  "no.  it's carbon monoxide," he stammered.  "we''ve got to get out of here.  we'll die!"


by that time - just seconds - we were both too weak to stand.  i remember rolling down the stairs, retching and coughing.  jimbo followed and we lay together panting, headachy on the cold damp sand under the house, the deadly lantern still burning above us.  it was some time before i could gather myself, hold my breath and retrieve it.


the rest of the night was a blur. dawn finally arrived, grey and murky.  we looked at each other, at the fishing rods, grimly packed up the sopping tent and made our way north to the ferry landing.  on the way back across the bay we agreed we were damn lucky to be alive.


jimbo left us some years ago - at the start of a fishing trip, but, thankfully, not in a driving rain storm.