Dark clouds filled the sky. Marlin looked out to the horizon, holding her breath. Watching as the neighbors hurried into their homes as the drops began to fall. She could hear each drop fall onto the roof of her home. The satisfying light thud, promising to bring more of its brothers and sisters. Bringing water they needed. 

It was a shame it would soon come too fast and hard to do any good.

The town hadn’t seen rain in months. Not since the last time they drove the boy out. Marlin hated calling the child ‘the boy’, but no one knew his name anymore. They hadn’t in generations. Calling him a boy was probably a misnomer at this point, but that was how he looked. A small lost child, maybe four years old. Walking in bare feet with forever soaked pants and shirt. His roughly chopped brown hair slicked down. Never changing ever since she was a small girl herself. 

When he came, so did the rain. Soft for a moment, but harder the longer he stayed in the town. Driving him out sent the rains with him. 

No one could remember the last time they saw a gentle shower. It was either a torrential downpour, with rain so heavy all you could see was white and grey outlines of the world- or nothing. 

Marlin was the only one who would dare go out into the rains when they came anymore. The 40 year old woman would stand out there, carefully gathering water in buckets and barrels for when someone would chase the boy away again. Forgetting if they went too hard they’d end up in the situation they were in now. The ground was brown, dry, and cracked. Too hard to take the water. It would slide off into the dry riverbeds, creating flash floods, which would cause everyone to want to send him away before it was safe to do so.

Today was different though. Marlin had been going through old pictures belonging to her grandmother, who had finally passed away at the ripe age of 104. In one picture was the boy. No rain, just a smiling and happy little boy. With what looked like her grandmother as a little girl holding his hand and sharing some cake. In the background, grass had grown tall with beaming sunflowers reaching to the sky behind them.

Written on the back was one simple sentence. 

‘We made the choice.’

There were no other good clues as to what the choice was. But Marlin had a hunch. And based on that hunch she had gotten a waterproof backpack and carefully packed it with everything she would need. Including, if it came to it, something to keep him just far enough to prevent flash flooding for now. 

The storms were coming closer, the raindrops starting to leave their mark in the brown dust. This land hadn’t been good for farming or growing anything in decades, not with the unsteady rains. Instead, the town had turned to factory work. People had been desperate for something that didn’t rely on the whims of a small child. Which just made people send the boy away faster and faster, as the bad storms sometimes closed the roads leading to their jobs. As the factories and roads increased, it made the flooding by the boy worse. 

Marlin started forward, pulling out her smartphone and making sure its waterproof case was secure. Her neighbors peeked as they saw her heading down the road by foot.

“Marlin, get inside! The mayor will send him off soon enough.” Old Mr. Smith shouted. 

She gave a small shake, pulling up her blue poncho. “I’m gonna handle him. Don’t worry.”

“The boy ain’t to be handled like that. Besides just because you lost-” The words froze in the old man’s throat as Marlin shot him a glare. “I mean. Be safe.”

“He’s just a child.”

“That thing ain’t a child.” She could hear him murmur as she quickened her pace down the road. 

The storm was coming in faster; its black clouds swirling and threatening to stir up dangerous winds. It wouldn’t be the first time they had hurricane level winds within their town, but it was rare. Marlin wondered what was making the boy move so quickly this time. Last time it turned out he got a ride with a trucker, someone out of town that didn't know he’d be trapped in the worst of the storm. Her father had run into the remains of the truck, the boy standing near it. Marlin remembered her father saying that the boy’s howls had been louder than the winds. That the boy said he didn’t mean to. That the trucker scared him. They never did get the trucker’s side of the story.

Marlin got to the edge of the town center, and she paused. Just a few feet away was the white curtain of rain. It wasn’t moving any closer. The other side of the town square couldn’t be seen save for some vague shapes. It was like standing next to a waterfall; and Marlin could only hear the loudest of the shouts. 

At least one of them told her to back away. 

Screw them. She needed to see this through. 

Before anyone could grab her or convince Marlin to back away from the storm, it suddenly shoved itself full force towards her. The boy was running to someone. Marlin looked at her phone, the GPS letting her know where she was at any given moment. It’d keep her from walking into anyplace dangerous at least. She held the softly glowing screen to her face and carefully moved forward. The shifting of her head caused the downpour to find its way under the poncho’s hood.

She hadn’t counted on staying that dry anyway. 

“Boy! Boy! Where are you?!” She cried out. 

It felt like the rain stopped moving for a moment. The raindrops slowed just enough to see another foot or so in front of her. And then, a gust of wind as the rain started slamming into her front, knocking the hood off.

There was a reason the cardinal rule was to never call the boy. You shouted his mother was angry. His father was coming. You slapped sticks and belts to the ground. Everything that would make a small child scared a beating was coming. That was the supposed ‘right’ choice. Afterall, with the factories did anyone really need the rains save for the water to drink? Even now bottled water could be shipped in. 

Still. The town would sometimes call to him anyway. Calling to the boy made the rain come. Calling made him rush towards the sound, bringing the hard rains back. Marlin knew why. It was why any child lost and scared would come.

“Boy! Boy come here!” She called again, checking her phone to make sure she wasn’t going into trouble.

On the screen she could see messages. All from her coworkers. Neighbors. Friends. 

Go back home.

Don’t call him.

You’re too old.

You can’t save him.

He will end the town.

There was only one message that mattered in the torrent of others. From her father. He knew the plan. He had watched her pack everything. He had helped her order the things she asked for and even loaned some money since expenses had outpaced her paycheck. 

Do it. I love you and will look for you again.

She smiled as she looked up to see the rain becoming heavier again. Marlin slowly made her way down the main street, calling out every other step. She only stopped when she found herself in front of the now abandoned candy shop she used to visit as a child. There, looking at the boarded up window, was The Boy standing under the awning. He slowly turned his head, letting out slow but heavy breathing.

“Hello boy. Were you wanting a treat?” As Marlin spoke, she walked over, kneeling down in front of him. “I have some in my bag if you want.”

The boy smiled before speaking softly. Words that somehow carried over the downpour and into her ears like a gentle breeze. “Yes please. I’m hungry.”

From the bag, Marlin pulled out carefully wrapped sandwiches and apples. Along with two slices of carrot cake. The boy looked at it all, the rain lightening slightly. As he started to reach for it, a green ghost grabbed at his hand. 

“She is too old to take your place.” The faceless vapor spoke, turning its head towards Marlin. “Though she was to be offered ages ago.”

“It’s cruel. Making him go alone.” Marlin struggled to keep her tone pleasant, speaking through gritted teeth as it was.

The vapor came close to Marlin’s face. “It is cruel what your people have done. What would you do?”

Just being this close made every wrong Marlin had ever done in her life choke in her throat, as if this thing was trying to make her confess every crime. Instead she spat down her question. 

“Why him? Why so young?”

“Because the young are what is needed. Unless another gives their child in his place.” It floated back over to him, placing what must have been its hands on his shoulder. “But none cared to retrieve this one. It had no family left. All lost.”

Marlin carefully pushed the offering of food to the child. “Then I will be his mother. A child needs a family. Even if it’s small. Someone to protect and keep him from being scared.”

“None can replace you like him. You will be trapped. Lost.” It hissed at her. “Never to see yours again.”

Marlin didn’t look at the thing, only at the boy as she held up the food to his waiting hands. “I will see them. When they need the green grasses and the spring leaves. If the boy will have me.”

Before the spirit could speak again, the boy grinned and called out gleefully. “Mama!”

Without another word the rain slowly let up, becoming a soft sprinkle that could slowly soak into the ground. The boy, comforted, happily ate his food. Finishing every bite before someone in the town could come out.

That was ten years ago. The rains come and go again. There are no more long droughts. Often, in the rain, a woman and a young boy are seen wandering. Smiling. Singing songs. Stopping at flowerbeds and in the green meadows that returned. Laughing. And the bad storms only come when someone threatens the boy. Tries to use the old choices to scare him away. Sometimes the older townspeople start to call out to the woman, only to forget who they were calling to. As if the rain washed away the words.