Megan Morrison - And Then it Rained: Lessons for Life

And Then It Rained:

Lessons for Life

A Memoir by

Megan Morrison

www.EvolvedPub.com

Copyright 2011 Megan Morrison

Cover Art Copyright 2011 Joshua Evans

Published by Evolved Publishing atSmashwords

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ISBN (EPUB Version): 1622538994

ISBN-13 (EPUB Version): 978-1-62253-899-7

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Thanks to Lane Diamond for his editorialguidance.

Thanks to Josh Evans for the great coverart.

I constructed this memoir from what I (andthose with whom I conferred) could remember of the times and eventsdepicted. As my memory was imperfect, I plugged in some gaps withmaterial that, even if not "factual," accurately depicted theemotional content. Where I felt it necessary (just about always), Ichanged the names of the players to protect their identities.

You may not use, reproduce or transmit in anymanner, any part of this book without written permission, except inthe case of brief quotations used in critical articles and reviews,or in accordance with federal Fair Use laws. All rights arereserved.

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"I've learned that people will forget whatyou said, people will forget what you did, but people will neverforget how you made them feel." Maya Angelou

Don't concentrate on weaknesses

But don't let strengths define

Dressed in our beach gear and armed withtowels and sunscreen, my mom, my two younger sisters and I strolledthrough the main doors of "The Gym," as nearly all 20,000 residentsof our Wisconsin hometown referred to it. The building's iconiclogo, a gigantic blue sun, hovered over us as we passedthrough.

The actual sun glimmered in the cerulean skyon this pleasant early-June day. Good thing, since I planned tospend some time at the gym's expansive swimming area, tanning in areclining chair, cooling off in one of the two huge pools, andcatching up with friends. The latter activity carried the greatestappeal; I always ran into someone familiar.

We scanned our membership cards at the ovalfront desk, where Mom stopped to chat with a few of herco-workersshe worked two nights a week there. While my sisters andI waited for them to finish, another friend of hers walked overonewho was both a coworker and a regular racquetballopponent.

Marie greeted us first, her warm smileaccentuating her rosy cheeks. Though you wouldn't guess it fromMarie's slight, five-foot frame, Mom claimed the forty-somethingbrunette gave her quite a run for her money on the courts. Off thecourts, they'd grown to be good friends since meeting at the gym afew months prior.

"Are you guys going swimming today?" sheasked.

"Yep!" We'd already be out there if Momweren't such a chatterbox.

"Well, have fun. It's a perfect day forit!"

Marie made her rounds to the rest of thegroup and talked for a few minutes before Mom finally announced weshould get going. As we walked towards the pool area, Marieshouted, "Oh, and Maya should be out there too. Make sure you sayhi to her."

Maya. I'd heard the name a number oftimes as our moms had gotten closer. Marie talked about herdaughter a lot, and Mom often shared many of her interestingstories.

According to Mom's accounts, Maya had asocial life that surpassed most other fourteen-year-olds. Sheattracted some desirable suitorshandsome, stellar athletes who, tothe dismay of Maya's parents, were often a few years older. Sheenjoyed a certain celebrity, especially among kids her age.

My connection to Abby, Maya's best friend,amplified my intrigue. Maya's parents had recommended Abby as ababysitter the past Aprilat ten years old, I wasn't quite ready totake those reins myself. We'd liked her a lot, and she'd become oneof our regulars.

A part of that same high class circle asMaya, she proved interesting in her own right, but moreimportantly, she told my sisters and me stories about Maya.Sometimes she gave details about their exploits together; sometimesshe added anecdotes to stories I'd already heard through Marie. Itall made me want to meet Maya even more.

But I hadn't even seen her yet, despite mycountless trips to the gym, which Maya's family frequented, soMarie's suggestion struck me right away. I pushed open the glassback door separating us from the pool area, and turned to Mom toask what had become a routine question.

"Can you please show me who Mayais?"

She shook her head and huffed, "Yes." Westepped back out into the summer heat. "If I see her, I willdefinitely point her out."

The swimming area contained two pools: onethat restricted swimmers to those aged fourteen and above, and afamily pool for members of all ages. I scanned the crowd as weentered the family section and strolled over to a group of openlawn chairs.

After putting down my handful of items andtaking off my cover-up, I looked around once more. Mom lookedaround too. Nothing.

I walked towards the pool and skimmed my footacross the top of the water, which caused a shiver. Heregoes.

"Megan!" Mom called out. "She's over there inthe blue and red swimsuit. That's Maya."

Despite her medium height, Maya stood outamong the group of people surrounding her in the "14-and-up" area.Her long, curly hair flapped in the wind as she spoke. She greetedeach person who entered the conversation with a high-five or awave, her dark eyes flickering in the sunlight each time she turnedher attention to someone new. She laughed often, accentuatingdime-sized dimples on each cheek, undoubtedly in her element as thecenter of attention.

My sisters interrupted my concentration."Megan, aren't you going to come into the pool?"

"What? Oh, yeah." I shuffled back towardsthem and jumped into the cold water.

A few minutes later, Maya had vanished.

At least I finally have a face to go withthe name.

***

My sisters and I got to bring friends to ourhometown festival the following weekend. Eight-year-old Kileyactually brought two. By far the most outgoing of us three girls,her list of friends at least doubled mine. With five-year-old Eve'spersonality falling somewhere in the middle, my family referred tome as the shy one, a title I reluctantly accepted.

Mom took the younger girls over to the kid'sarea, leaving my best friend, Bryn, and me on our own. We strolledthrough the midway and passed the "popular" girls from our class,huddled in a circle, gabbing away. Ashley and Robyn were both onour basketball team, but they didn't usually talk to me outside ofpractice. Sure enough, the two of them ignored us as we walked by.They probably wouldn't even go on any rides, just talk to boys andhang out.

After a couple rounds on the Tilt-A-Whirl andFerris wheel, we headed for some of the bigger attractions.

"Hey, let's go on the Skymaster!" Brynpointed at the gigantic rotating box.

"No way! You know I don't like upside-downrides."

"Please? Who else will go with me?"

A few screams echoed from the top, thehanging box suspending its passengers fifty feet above the ground.Oh my God! "Sorry, I just don't like them."

"All right." Bryn sighed and started towardsthe next ride.