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There were only two types of rain in Pelican Town - showers, and storms. And today, Yoba had sent them a storm.
No one in town had seen anything like it in years. It had started all at once, early in the morning before anyone had a chance to wake up. Droplets the size of ping-pong balls. Or at least, they seemed that way from afar. Then came the lightning, like something from one of the great biblical plagues. Violent flashes of white followed by low, distant rumblings. There was something almost haunting about it. Haunting, yet somehow beautiful.
Penny had been forced to take shelter underneath the wooden overhang of the museum. She’d fled there in a desperate panic to escape the rain, and now she couldn’t bring herself to leave. The thought of her freshly ironed blouse getting any more soaked made her shiver - or maybe it was the cold. But either way, she was stuck, at least until the weather calmed down.
Vincent and Jas likely wouldn’t be coming today. Jas lived way too far away to be expected to make the trek on a day like this. And Vincent…well, getting Vincent to the library even in the best weather was a chore. From what she had heard from Jodi, the boy practically clung to his mother’s legs to avoid leaving the house. He was a good kid deep down, Penny knew, he just needed a little prompting from time to time.
She sighed as she stared out over the horizon, over the bridge and down towards the beach. Even through the shivering and the goosebumps, she tried to keep her thoughts positive. She’d always loved how the Valley looked in the fall. So many vibrant shades of orange and red that coated the world like a wash of watercolours. Perhaps she was biassed; fall was the season of her birthday after all. But it was also the season of roaring fires, warm drinks, long nights reading in bed. The final breaths of life before winter came and took it all away. No storm would take any of that love from her. No fear. And no cold. She would always have her home. No one would ever take that from her.
As her gaze began to drift one side to the next, she saw a figure approaching from the distance. Tall, broad, walking briskly to avoid the worst of the rain. Penny couldn’t imagine anyone being reckless enough to come out in weather like this, especially to the museum, of all places. They seemed to be coming from the other side of the river, down by the beach. Perhaps it was the farmer, coming to donate another artefact they’d found. Or Willy, heading up to Gus to sell him some more crabs. But as they came closer, Penny realised it was neither. In fact, it was possibly the last person she’d expected to see.
“Elliott?”
By the time he was close enough to see her, Elliott’s face was flushed, his usually perfect hair askew. He was holding his jacket tight around himself, trying to salvage what little warmth from it he could. But still, he smiled at her through his hurried breathing. A warm, welcoming smile.
“Penny,” he greeted, like he was genuinely delighted to see her, “braving the storm, I see.”
Penny felt her cheeks begin to redden, her gaze quickly dropping.
“I-I’m going to go inside, I just wanted a quiet moment.”
She hated how feeble she sounded, her words almost drowned out by the rain.
“Fair enough,” Elliott nodded, “I’ll leave you to your thoughts, if you’d like.”
“N-no!” Penny said, quickly, “it’s fine, really. I…I was just admiring the view.”
Elliott turned back, following her gaze out to the distant, blue haze of the ocean.
“It’s very atmospheric,” he agreed, “bracing, you might say. If you were being kind.”
“Yes. Definitely bracing.”
She smiled to herself, still trying to hide her blushing face. The goosebumps still clung to her, the hair on her arms standing on ends.
“What are you doing all the way out here?” she found herself asking, “I don’t normally see you on days like this.”
She looked up to see his smile drop ever so slightly. Not enough to darken his expression, but enough that she took notice.
“Yes, well, I’m certainly not built for weather like this.” As if to prove his point, he took a chunk of his hair and squeezed some of the water out of it. “Alas, some things simply cannot wait.”
With that, he reached inside his jacket, pulling out something Penny hadn’t realised he’d been holding. A book. Old and worn, with a pale blue cover.
“I appear to have accidentally ‘borrowed’ this from our dear Gunther,” he explained, “I must have forgotten to put it back down when I left last night. I completely neglected to notice it until now.” He laughed to himself, like he was telling a private joke. “I thought it would be for the best if I returned it. Stave off the great collector’s wrath, if you will.”
Again, Penny felt herself smiling. In fact, she had to physically repress the urge to giggle like a child.
“I’m sure Gunther won’t mind,” she said, once she’d managed to get a hold of herself, “he isn’t that bad.”
“All the same, it’d be wrong of me not to bring it back at my earliest convenience. I won’t have my reputation besmirched by mere parchment.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you.”
Soon, they lapsed into silence, a rolling wave of thunder echoing in the distance. Penny found herself wondering where the storm was at its worst. Zuzu City? Maybe Ridgeside Village? Or perhaps it was all the way out in the Fern Islands, soaking that beautiful resort.
“Anyway,” Elliott said with a sigh, the suddenness of his words making Penny jump, “I’d best actually give this to Gunther. Not that I’m eager to leave you out here. It’s just-”
“I understand,” Penny said, quickly, “it’s not really the nicest day for a chat.”
That, at least, made Elliott laugh, as he brushed his hair from out of his face.
“Stay dry, Penny. If you can.”
And with that, he was gone, the museum’s door creaking shut behind him.
And slamming.
Slamming…suddenly.
There was a time when slamming doors would have made Penny break down into fits of sobs. Years ago, back when she was still a child. Slamming doors meant bad things were coming. They meant her mother was home from the saloon. They meant she was angry or drunk or depressed or worse. Night after night, she had listened to Pam ranting to the walls, slurring obscenities to the kitchen cabinets. And if she’d ever realised Penny was listening, all hell broke loose.
“I’ll give you somethin’ to cry about, you ungrateful brat.”
Another shiver ran through her as she pulled at her collar. She needed to change clothes. She needed to find a big, thick jumper and cover herself up so no one would see her. She needed to get out of this damned rain. But she was stuck, helplessly watching it fall.
She couldn’t blame her mother. She told herself that every night as she lay in bed, listening to the wind whistling outside. She was a good person, and good people always forgave others. At least, that was what she’d managed to convince herself. She had to convince herself, or she’d collapse under the weight of it all. The weight of a thousand lonely nights, and all the days staring in the mirror and hating the face that stared back at her. The weight of hearing her mother yelling.
“You think you’ve got problems? Pah. You don’t know anythin’. You’ve got no idea what it’s like to have nothing. No friends. No home. Just some pathetic kid who thinks he’s a girl.”
She screwed up her eyes, her cheeks beginning to burn. Her body was a lead weight, dragging her down, pulling at her heart until it sat somewhere in her stomach. She could feel every inch of herself. Her jaw was too sharp and her shoulders were too square and her chest was too flat and her feet were too wide and her hair was too thin and her skin was too pale and-
“Penny?”
She jumped, shrieking as the voice caught her by surprise. But when she turned around, she saw that it was only Elliott again, standing in the doorway, the book no longer in his hand. He was looking right at her, eyes widening. He could see her. He was looking at her. He could see her, he could see her, he-
“My dear, you’re soaked.”
She blinked, the world slowly beginning to come back to her. She touched her cheek, only for her hand to come away damp. Damp and warm.
“I-it’s fine,” she said, shaking her head like she was trying to shake the thoughts away, “it’s not the rain, I just…”
She trailed off, suddenly realising what it was she’d just said. She blinked, trying to keep more tears out of her eyes. But all she managed to do was blur the world, leaving Elliott as little more than a wash of red and brown.
Just like fall.
“Penny?”
She felt a hand on her shoulder. A strong, safe hand.
“Are you alright?”
A warm voice. A calm voice. A rock in the storm.
“Yes,” she tried to mumble, but her throat was thick, blocked by invisible weights, “I’m sorry, I-”
“You don’t have to apologise,” Elliott said, his voice soft, “you’ve done nothing wrong.”
Then Penny felt another hand. Brushing against her cheek. Wiping her tears. Clearing the world. All she could do was stare back at him, locked forever in a single moment.
“Would you like me to walk you home?” he asked, “or do you want to go inside?”
She couldn’t find the words for a response. All she could do was shake her head. Slowly. Shakily. Like a frightened rabbit.
She was about to turn away, to lean against the wall and curl herself up as small as she possibly could. But something stopped her. The slightest glimpse of Elliott’s eyes. Bright, green, brimming with worry. And suddenly, she found her voice.
“How…how do you do it, Elliott?”
She watched those bright green eyes narrow, his brow furrowing as he tried to process her words.
“How do I do what?”
“I don’t know. Just… be . I’m sorry I don’t know how to say this…”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing her mind to stay as blank as possible. She only let herself think of spring. The last time she and Elliott had properly spoken. All the way over on the Fern Islands.
“D-do you remember the last time we talked? On the island resort? I asked you about…you know…”
She couldn’t get the words out properly. They felt wrong to her. Alien, almost. All she could do was gesture vaguely at her chest and hope to Yoba he understood her.
And, thankfully, he did.
“Ah. I see.”
It had been a chance meeting. The both of them had decided to venture out to Ginger Island for a day by the crystal blue waters. They had bumped into each other leaving the changing rooms, her in her favourite lime bikini, and him standing there shirtless. That was when she’d noticed for the first time. The scars on his chest, clean straight lines, faded with age.
She’d know, then, that he was like her. And she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it ever since.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to bring it up, I just-”
“It’s alright,” he reassured her, smiling warmly, “It doesn’t bother me.”
“I know,” Penny sighed, “I just…I wish I could be…not bothered.”
Elliott glanced over his shoulder, like he was expecting to see someone watching them. But there was no one. Just Gunther, standing at his desk, oblivious to the world. So Elliott ducked under the shelter with her, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief.
“You never knew me before,” Penny found herself saying, “I was never anyone else for you. Just Penny. I…I liked that. Not having to worry so much when I talked to you.”
She looked back out over the horizon, her mind in a hundred different places at once.
“We don’t get many people moving here. I’ve only ever really known three people who weren’t around when I was little. It’s the kind place you spend your whole life in, you know? You’re born here, you live here, and then…well, I think you get the rest.”
Elliott only nodded. His smile was long gone, but his eyes were still warm like a forest on a summer morning. She had always liked that about him. His warmth. Like an aura, drifting along with him everywhere he went.
“It took people a while to understand,” she went on, “they tried their best, I know they did. But some people were…worse than others. Like…”
She couldn’t finish. She couldn’t say the words that were digging into the back of her throat like knives. Like speaking them could summon them into being.
“I understand,” Elliott said, “really, I do.”
“I always thought, every time I saw you…you just had it together. I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong. You just always looked…happy.”
He looked over at her, their eyes locking once again. They were practically the same height, another thing Penny had never liked about herself. She was too tall. Girls were supposed to be small and dainty, like pixies. That was what her mother had always thought.
“Yer dad was more of a girl than you’ll ever be.”
Before her mind had a chance to wander anymore, Elliott’s voice snapped her back into herself.
“If I seem happy every time you see me, then clearly I’m doing a better job than I thought.”
“You mean…it’s all just an act.”
“Not completely,” Elliott shook his head, “it’s just acceptance. And it ebbs and flows like the rising tides.”
Dear Yoba, he had such a lovely way of speaking, sometimes.
“We all have days where the doubts become too much,” he went on, “no matter who we are, or how long we’ve been here. And no matter how kind the rest of the world is to you, sometimes you simply can’t be kind to yourself.”
“So that’s it, then? There’s nothing we can do about it?”
Elliott smiled back at her. A smile that seemed almost sad.
“We simply get by, take each day as it comes. Let the rest of the world do the passing, for a change.”
There was something knowing his eyes. A tiny glimmer, like a hidden pearl. This moment, this single snapshot of the endless universe, was for them and them alone.
Penny just nodded. He was right. People talked about self-love like it was the miracle cure to all of life’s ills. Like all she ever had to do was say ‘I am beautiful’ and suddenly everything would be ok. But there were times when it just wasn’t that simple. She could tell herself she was beautiful a thousand times over. But there were still days she just wouldn’t be able to believe it.
But then again, there were days when she could. And those days would come again. Yesterday, for example. She and Maru had sat on the bench outside the saloon for hours and just…talked. Simply existing in one another’s company, the way they had done for so many years. And last week, when her mother had come back early from the saloon. She’d brought dinner with her, a fresh cooked meal with radishes and red cabbages made by Gus himself. One of Penny’s favourites.
There would always be another good day. Even if it was only one.
“Thank you,” Penny mumbled, “for staying with me.”
“Any time,” Elliott said softly, “if you ever need me, you can come by whenever you’d like.”
“I will,” she nodded, “but…can we stay here for a bit? I’d like to watch the rain.”
Elliott nodded back, reaching into his pocket and handing her a handkerchief. A different one, Penny noticed, than the one he’d used before.
“I’d like that too,” he said.
So they stood there in silence, watching as the world poured down around them. And in that moment, as though they were thinking in sync, they both decided that today didn’t have to be good or bad. It simply was. The rain would fall and the lightning would flash and the world would move on.
Like everything else, it would pass. And sometimes that was good enough.