Sometimes the rains come in April, filling the millions of crevices that the earth had opened, dying of thirst. Then thousands of seeds buried beneath the surface, burst to life, flooding the air with their sweet fragrances.

Yet, always on the first day of May, as if nature had its own May Day. And all the hunters sharpen their claws against the tough barks of the thirsty tree trunks. The endless pounding of hoofs shakes the land as the herds return home. In a large parade of buffalos, deers, wild goats, and huge elephants.

August, this is August and the open, dry terrain is filled with living skeletons, driven by thirst. The wells have run dry, and the town’s leadership has been forced to deliver water to the citizens. The town would die if the rains stayed away.

He was just sitting there, on a huge grey stallion, without a saddle. He wore a crisp tilted cowboy hat, and a plaid long-sleeve shirt tucked neatly into his blue jeans. He wore tall boots, that seemed to be made of leather but could be of any buffalo or cowhide.

He rode up to our house, passing the bare field, the small grain shed, and sat once more without calling out. He had come here before, but on another footing. He was bareback riding on a stolen pony, escaping from a politically driven bounty hunter, who wanted to eliminate all resistant Indians.

The revolt of the Indians had taken the small city by surprise, but the chief had refused permits for gold mining, near the Belvian Indian shelter. Kamu had ridden into our farm looking for a shortcut to the shelter. My Dad hid him for more than a week.

We got to know each other then. He was a young lad, trying to stay alive, and I, just a little girl, intrigued by his tales. He would talk endlessly about his hunting expeditions for buffalos or reindeer. He counted the eons of time that he came in close contact with lions, cheetahs, and crocodiles.

After a week the revolt came to an abrupt end, with a new treaty between our leaders and the Shelter. There would be no more mining projects in that territory. Kamu left us then, promising to return when we most needed him.
Here he was now, strutting slowly up to our door. Dad came out and they exchanged salutes. They chatted for a while, then he lowered from the horse and went inside with Dad.

‘Where is Bridget? Is she still as beautiful and charming as she was back then?’ Dad gave him a pat on the back.

‘See for yourself. Kamu’, He called out to me from below. There was a note of eagerness in his voice. I floated down the stairs. Kamu bowed and I tilted my head as was his custom. He was more handsome now. A scar remained over his left eyebrow, and I wondered which of those selfish and envious townsmen was guilty.

‘My. You are so beautiful; my little girl has grown into a marvelous maiden.’ He bowed again, accepted a cup of tea from Mom, then sat down with us on the leather sofa.

‘Say, princess. Could you go and get dressed? Need you to ride me into town. We have to see the mayor.’

I hesitated a second, before running up the stairs again. Wasn’t this the same mayor who wanted to kill Kamu? Did he come back to visit us only to commit suicide? Men can be so dumb at times. We rode into the town on my motorbike, and Kamu followed behind on his horse. The otherwise dead town sprung to life with gossip and fear, and even wonder. For a brief moment, they could forget about the immediate problems and focus on speculative rumors.

There were two lanes on this Pinestress Lane, lined with two- and three-story buildings set against a backdrop of the early colonial era. The only modernized building was a library, built by the Spanish government about ten years ago.
The mayor was expecting us, and to my surprise, gave a warm welcome to Kamu, then invited us into his office. He kept a guard at the door, which was rather normal. He didn’t seem like the same bloodthirsty, Indian hater, that led the revolt when I was a kid. His smiles and charismatic welcome painted a different person.

Yet, I know how these people really were, poor breed dogs. A normal dog would never have bitten the hands that gave them the land for this district. They were peaceful now, but deep inside was the same old, ugly motor, just begging for war.

Kamu went directly to the point. His thin lips parted to reveal even-set teeth. They were unusually red-toned, almost like the day he visited us. Had he never been kissed? Sometimes a girl must let her mind roam with the wind. And the more I watched his lips, the more I wondered. This is private territory, can’t share.

‘Mr. Mayor, I am not here to help you or your group, I still remember everything that happened. I am here for Mr. Douglas and his family.’ The mayor mused and almost transformed his smile into laughter.

‘Is Douglas in trouble of some sort, Chief Kamu?’

Go paint those roses red, he is the chief! Wow, and so humble. So, when did that happen, and why is the mayor so blind, already sidelining?

‘You all are in for bigger problems, Mr. Mayor. Mother Albanya has seen the ravine lined with dead animals and children. The rains won’t be coming anytime soon.’
‘So, you want me to evacuate this district based on a prophecy from Mother? I love our dear mother, but no one would believe me, Chief.’ The mayor is a nasty thinker. He sees only the loss of the district, thinking that the chief would invade and retake the town.

‘I am not even thinking along that line. I know that there is no trust between us. We propose a rain dance tonight.’

The mayor could not resist this time. He fell on his desk, holding his huge, belt-bursting, stomach, as he roared in loud and mocking laughter. When he saw that no one else was laughing, he managed to stop, even beside himself. My Dad was angry. I could tell by the way he clenched his fist and narrowed his eyes.

‘Mr. Mayor what the Chief hasn’t told you is that they already have daily rain. The ponds are full, the rivers overrunning their banks. And they have planted grains, corn, rice, wheat, and even peanut.’

The mayor sat uprightly, he looked at my dad. He knew that he could trust him well. There was none like him for miles. When my dad hid Kamu, the mayor, and his team came to the house looking for him. My father had told the mayor the truth, I have the Indian, but you won’t be getting him. The mayor and about eight other men had encircled the entrances, but my dad reminded the mayor of their World War two trick. When two of the men raised their riffles, my father drew a hand grenade from his pocket and only repeated his stance.

The mayor had left, and two days later the revolt came to an end. Later that night my dad shared with us the irony of what he had done. The grenade was a trophy toy. What if they had returned?

‘You should not be telling me this, Douglas. The biggest problem in our town is this drought. If it gets to the wrong ears, you know what I mean.’
‘We took care of that Mr. Mayor, those sounds and rumblings you heard over the past months, were not thunder. We have made a one-way canon into our shelter. This means that if your people should try again, five of my worst lads could eliminate your entire army.’
‘I thought we had an agreement on the prevention of mining. But, yes, I have to admit that you are a good leader and thinker. Tell me more about this rain dance. Is it guaranteed?’
‘We will need twelve of your most beautiful maidens, must not be married. And you must create a bonfire that will be burning throughout the seminar. I will make the potion and you will administer it to your people.’

The mayor had bitten on the spark of hope shared by my dad, now he shuffled the cards that he must play. How would he sell this to the town? Almost everyone hates the Indians. His cabinet would boot him to the streets with the idea, his best ace was Douglas Mitter.

‘I will do this, my dear Chief if your partner in action, Mr. Douglas, makes the presentation at the town hall, in that way, I get some protection.’
‘I will be with you Mike, please get the people together. We will arrive at ten with the potion. We better be going before the lynchers get here.’ They all chuckled at that. All except Kamu, who was not pleased to see the cowardice of the mayor.
‘Say, Douglas, your daughter could be a dancer…’

I was expecting my dad to react and defend me. I wouldn’t mind participating, depending on whom I get to dance with. Kamu sprung to his feet. His index finger rose to his lips and then threateningly at the mayor.

‘Don’t you even think of it, Mr. Mayor, don’t you dare!’

I was not sure which cloud I was on, or I would have quickly jumped to the next one. I let my imagination roam again. This time it noted how strong those arms were and just how comfortable they could make one feel, I mean inside their embrace.

The mayor was shocked by the reaction, if my dad was, he showed no signs.
‘Just a suggestion, my friend. I had no idea you guys were a number…’ Kamu interrupted the mayor again.
‘Mr. Mayor, I am a married man with two children. This maiden here only likes my stories. You must not be disrespectful….’
‘My apologies. Just a thought. I know Bridget well enough, and I never would have disrespected her. Now don’t get me wrong. I knew nothing of your marriage until now. And if you were single, you would be a good candidate for her if she so desired. Am I wrong, Bridget?’

Did I ever tell you how horrible those Indian women look? The hair is always unkempt, the skin ever so dry, the lips full of cracks like the Earth now, and their clothes are never clean. How could he have focused on one of them? She must have drugged him, or better yet, bewitched him.

‘You are absolutely right Mr. Mayor. I am in the same class as your daughter. And neither of us is into dating yet. But Chief Kamu is a very honorable person and a great storyteller.’

We rode home in silence except for a few times when Dad asked me to reduce speed, I had to make sure that this crazy mind of mine didn’t go roaming off again. Why did he defend me so strongly? Why did he call me beautiful? Was I reading too much in all of this?

The night fell on Caligari like a thick blanket. The cloudless skies boasted uncountable stars, an almost full moon, and a roaming satellite that passed overhead on an hourly basis. The town hall was packed that night and there was hardly anyone who stayed at home.  The mayor was waiting for Dad and the Chief. he ushered them inside and onto the stage. I noticed that something was out of order, but was unable to decipher exactly what it was. Maybe just a maiden’s sixth sense getting the better of me, But I decided to stay outside for a while and chatted with the mayor’s daughter.

Kitty seemed to have been waiting for me and lured me to a small mound where we could see and hear everything but from a safe distance. We chatted about everything including the twelve volunteers that the mayor managed to sign up.

We were chatting about the brave Indian who dared to show his face again in our town when the phone rang. Kitty answered, listened for a while then said.
‘No, they are still explaining the dancing part. But, yes the fire is ablaze. Will let you know when the party starts.’
‘Somebody got a uhh um’ I teased her. She giggled as her usual self.
‘Now that was junior. Wanted to know about you and the dance.’
‘Where is he, I thought he would be here by now, seeing that Carol is one of the dancers.’
‘No, he said dad sent him and some other men over to a new canyon or a hole in the mountain or something like that.’ It hit me like a bullet! That bastard of a mayor. I had to let them know.
‘Come with me have to talk to Dad, now!’

I grabbed her by the hand and tried to break through the crowd. Two guards saw us and moved to block us. So, this is a well-designed plan. Everyone except us knew about it. We tried to get through from the right side but another guard caught up with us and at gunpoint led us back to the mound and stayed there guarding us. The poor village would be taken by surprise, driven from their homes, the men killed, and the women and children, if lucky could escape to the other side of the mountain.

The other two guards caught up with us and stayed with us too. The phone rang again. Junior was chattering loudly and terrified. The canyon raid had and only Junior and two others were still outside the fighting. The phone went dead. Kitty looked at me. She seemed as puzzled as I was. The guards were still there as the twelve dancers went backstage to drink their potions, accompanied by the mayor, my dad, and Kamu.

‘Let’s run for it I whispered to Kitty. We looked for a place to rush through the guards, but we were well covered. Somehow, I had to find a way to let Kamu and Dad know what was happening. Once the local militia broke through the canyon, they would arrest Kamu and maybe even my Dad. The dancers were now leaving the town hall, and the people came out behind them. This was our only chance. I rose to my feet as Kitty slammed her feet into one of the guard’s shins. He cursed under his breath as we ran toward the Dad and the dancers,

When we arrived, Kamu was talking on his cell phone and so was the mayor. We pulled Dad aside and we related to him what we found out. He only smiled and told us not to worry. Dad had that kind of patience that always made him victorious where most people usually fail. The dancers started chanting as the beat of the drums rose into the air. Kamu had joined them and now the mayor summoned the guards. I thought that this was the moment when we would experience time behind bars, but the guards left in some sort of haste.

The fire was bigger now and the flames jumped into the air, dancing a different melody. Smoke burned the noses of the people closest to the bonfire. They moved away coughing and fanning away the fumes. But most were enjoying the show. A great part of the youth had never seen an Indian dance and were the most attentive spectators. But I was still worried, what if the rain did not come? Kamu would just disappear and the problems would come to our door.

How would Dad handle it? Another toy bomb, or maybe a rocket launcher? How long would we spend in jail? Would we lose our land after, or return to a home destroyed or burnt to the ground?

The dancers were now in a single row as if controlled by some magical force, they danced the same chorographic moves, It would appear as if they practiced for years, and now were making their best performance before the national theatre.  Now and then they would pause and make a united shout in a language that neither Kity nor I, understood. They continued their bizarre chanting, dancing, and shouting for a while. My feet got tired and Kitty and I sat down on the paved park.

The first few drops, although heavy and large went rather unnoticed by the crowd who were now sweating heavily from the heat of the fire. But when the lightning and thunder started to peal throughout the sky, everyone changed their posture.

Some joined in the dance while others started to shout and, still others, hugging and shaking hands. Then suddenly there was a sound like a hurricane wind rushing in from all sides, and the rains came. The people did not run home. No, they stayed and danced and shouted. Ignoring the wetness of the torrential downpour. The only one who disappeared to look for his son was the mayor.

Somehow the Chief had expected the attack and was well prepared. Until the time of this writing, I have not seen Junior again, and neither has Kitty. Sometimes the rain comes in April, but it was until this August, when the rains came late, that I had seen so many people dancing in the rain.