The Man Who Rained Read Online Free PDF

front of his deep two-seater sofa. The empty seat of that sofa was as smooth
as new, but when he stood to greet her, a depression remained where he’d been sitting, imprinted by years of cricket-watching. Elsa might have thought him lazy, had not one final detail of
the room given her a hint of an explanation. On top of the television was a framed photograph of a young black man, probably the same age as Elsa, wearing an orange t-shirt and jeans. He had been
snapped in the middle of a fit of laughter. His hands were plastered all over with clay, a large quantity of which appeared to have just that moment exploded across his body.
    ‘He was a potter,’ said Kenneth, noticing Elsa’s attention to the photo. ‘Michael. My wonderful son.’
    Before Elsa could say anything he frowned and tugged open a curtain. The sunlight, which had seemed so powerful projecting through the curtains, turned coy through the glass, making only the
window sill lambent. Then, as clouds moved across the sun, the room became darker than it had been before.
    ‘You look mighty unhappy, Elsa.’
    She told him about the dog.
    He listened with the comforting expression of a counsellor, which made his response all the more surprising. ‘Elsa, I don’t want to upset you further, but you must understand. It is
good that the dog was killed. Such dogs bring foul luck to the town.’
    ‘ Foul luck ? It was just a dog! A beautiful dog with blue eyes!’
    ‘Ahh, yes.’ Kenneth chuckled awkwardly. ‘The eyes, you see, are the giveaway. Find one of those wild dogs at sunset and its eyes will be pink or red.’
    Elsa remembered the way the blue had charred out of them upon death. It made her shiver and fold her arms.
    ‘Tell me, Elsa. The man who killed it, was he tall? With a black beard?’
    ‘Yeah, that was him. Daniel something-or-other.’
    ‘Daniel Fossiter. That man is very well respected in Thunderstown. His family have been cullers as far back as anyone can remember. It would be wise to remain in his good books.’
    ‘Cullers?’
    ‘Mostly he kills mountain goats. He keeps the population in check to stop them destroying the plants or wandering down into town. Believe me, they will eat anything they can lay their
teeth on. But his role is also a ceremonial one. Daniel is expected to kill other ...’ he faltered, ‘ creatures , too.’
    She pictured Daniel Fossiter again. There had been an air of power about him that felt animalistic. Like a lion in the wilderness. Not wicked like a human being could be, but menacing by nature
nevertheless. ‘I didn’t like him.’
    ‘To tell you the truth, Elsa, I must admit that I too am sometimes uneasy around him.’
    ‘Yeah. Exactly. Uneasy.’
    She went upstairs to her apartment and sat in the wicker chair looking out across the rooftops. The clouds were all oblong lumps, nothing more than blockages to the daylight. She had liked
Thunderstown better before she had encountered Daniel Fossiter in it and she wished she had not chanced upon him. She could use a day without uneasiness.
    There had been no such day all summer. After her dad’s funeral she had felt like she was a vase full of hairline fractures, straining to contain water. Then, one day, a month ago now, the
pressure finally became too much to bear. One final crack had branched through her and she had shattered into a thousand pieces.
    Peter had done it. Lord knows he was probably still searching his soul over it, for she had not been able to explain to him that she had been breaking for a long time and this was just the
tipping point. She hoped he would get over it quickly. He deserved that much.
    His idea had been a long weekend outside of the city. ‘Let’s take a tent and head out west. A breath of fresh air might do you good.’ He’d organized everything, and when
they made their camp late on a sunny afternoon in a woodland glade in Pennsylvania she thought yes, this is precisely the good I need. Resting her head on his