The Woman and The Umbrella

A man remember a time of his youth when he used to see a woman always standing at the same street corner, holding an umbrella although there was no rain.

THE WOMAN AND THE UMBRELLA

I was nine years old when I first saw the woman and her umbrella. She was always standing at the same street corner, holding her umbrella open above her head, even under a sunny and cloudless sky. 

At the time I was helping my grandfather in his store on the weekend, cleaning tables and learning more about maths behind a cash register that I would ever do in school. 

I could see the woman as I walked there, in the early morning of every Saturday, and as I left in the evening when the leaves would dance with the wind under the dimming sun. 

Her face was always hidden under the black umbrella, and my curiosity would raise questions in my mind: what was the expression on her face? What was she thinking, hidden under there? 

A week later, I left home a little bit earlier and took a detour around the block. All the way I had the feeling that she would be gone. But I was wrong. She was there. Of course she was. 

Alone on the sidewalk, she was wearing a green dress. I remember because the sun was shining, the sky was as clear as my memory of that day as I write this, and blue as the most perfect ocean one would ever hope to see, a kind of blue that seemed to only exist in the mind, too incredibly beautiful to be perceived by the human eye. 

I slowed my walk to be able to gather as much information as I could. Her face was again well hidden under the umbrella, but I could see her mouth, a flat line like a single grass stalk. Her smell, reaching me, reminded me of a forest after a heavy rain. 

From the mouth I could not tell what she was thinking, but then I saw something: drops of water, falling at her feet, giving birth to tiny dark circles on the concrete. 

For the first time her umbrella will be useful! I thought and smiled. It’s finally raining!

But I was wrong. It was not rain dropping from the clouds, but tears flowing down her cheeks. 

My smile vanished. Right then I knew that I would not need to see her face. Ever. I would never know what she was thinking, but I could tell what she was feeling: an immense and utter sadness. It struck me like an arrow in the chest, and I had to swallow the tears rushing like torrents inside the pipes of my skull. It was hard, and to this day I think that fighting those tears was probably the hardest thing I have ever done. 

I could see images in my head. The same corner, the same woman, the same umbrella, but a different time. The cars and buildings looked older, but the sky looked younger. More alive. And when the images stopped playing, I found myself still there, looking at her from the sidewalk. 

I kept walking but hastened my pace because I was late. I did not know what to think. The feeling was still there, floating inside me like a boat on a calm sea, sheltering in the same carriage the most beautiful and saddest moments of my entire short life. I did not know either to laugh or cry. It seemed like a brand new emotion that was scaring and delighting me all together. 

And there was the umbrella… Why would someone carry one under a rainless sky? 

As I entered the store, I understood. I don’t know how, but I just knew. The umbrella was not for her, but for everybody else. For us. 

She was carrying the sadness of all mankind, all by herself, with only one hand. The umbrella was a magical burden, absorbing the distress of anybody who would recognize it for what it was, and try to understand, as I did. 

This time I did not fight the tears and they came down in rivulets of crystal. Tears of understanding. It was the most beautiful feeling I have ever felt until now.

I ran out of the store to that corner where she always stood, but when I got there she was gone. So I just stood there for a while, catching my breath, looking at the exact spot she was staring at before, thinking : I wish I could have thanked her. 

This was the biggest regret of my life. I was never able to show her my gratitude. My only hope was that someone, somewhere, would have the chance to see her as well, recognize her for what she was, and do it for me. 

And as I took this memory and printed it in my mind, hoping that it would last forever, the rain started to fall. 

THE END

Author's Note

I am from the French Caribbean so my native language is French. I apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes or general ones. Please let me know if you find any or if the text deserves enhancement in any way.
Thank you very much and I hope you will enjoy reading my story.

T.A

Reviews

[Delmar Cooper]

Suggest you include the second sentence as part of the first paragraph. The third line is an incomplete sentence. Suggest "even under a cloudless sky." "Roaming the surface" is not the right idiom.

Suggest "could ...do in school" not "would." Suggest "left in the evening when the leaves etc." Otherwise the implication is that leaving caused a wind.

Struck me like an arrow, not "stroke."
Hastened my pace not "fastened."

This is very ambitious. Thanks for sharing.

[Tom Aubin]

Thank you for your review and your tips and suggestions, it was really helpful. I did some modifications and the story indeed looks and sounds better now.
Thanks again!

[Delmar Cooper]

I'm glad you found the suggestions useful. Please remember, suggestions are only opinions, your opinion is the one that counts.

[Tom Aubin]

Well said. I hope to get your opinions on my future publications. Thank you.

[Carol Cashes]

Loved the concept of this story. There are some grammar issues, but I will leave those for others to point out. Kind of disjointed when he sees her in his mind's eye in different times. But the story? I really enjoyed it, and am looking forward to reading more of your work.

[Tom Aubin]

Thanks, I'm glad you liked it. I know what you mean with the scene where he sees her in a different time. This is how it came to my mind when I wrote the story, and when I read it now it still feels like the draft of the scene. I will try to think of a better way to put it. Thanks again!

[Henry Pellinger]

I loved it!!! The very title peaked my interest. I always love the image of a person holding a umbrella, without the need for one, it makes me want to meet the person. Now I can ask the person, " Do you carry the sadness of the world in your hand?" Great job.

[Tom Aubin]

Thank you very much!
I'm glad you liked it.