Raindrop's Arc

Chapter 10 of 15

The first drop fell, but the beat slipped. Raindrop pulled a watch from his pouch and tapped along, then smeared honey across the drum's rim to slow its bounce. Nothing held. The tempo wobbled, and the drops above hung crooked in the air. He whistled sharp into the wind. A fierce drummer with a fiery mane stomped onto the planks. Behind him came a thunder drummer, wild blue hair crackling, drumsticks raised. They locked eyes once and nodded. Together they dragged in a tall rig of stacked drums and bright cymbals, bolting it down between them. Cables snaked across the boards. They split the rig down the middle, each taking one side, and built a small canvas shelter over the top to block the wind. The fierce drummer hit first. The thunder drummer answered. Their beats folded into one steady pulse, low and even. Raindrop felt the ripple at last — the spreading hum he had been chasing. He raised his hand and let go. Drops poured from the cloud above and struck the stage in perfect time, bouncing back up in wide arcs, crossing paths mid-air. For a long, full minute, the sky danced as one.