30% Chance of Rain:

Christmas came that year. It was rather nice. Momma and daddy spoiled me on Christmas like they normally did every year. Jim even gave me a kiss under the mistletoe. Ever since my birthday, things became easier between us. People still stared at us. I was still trying to stomach it. At least now, I wanted to spend more time with your grandfather. This became rather apparent on New Year’s in 1984.

New Year’s eve of 1983 was good. I spent that with my parents, granma, aunt, uncle, and cousins. It was rather nice—for something safe. To my surprise (and disappointment), Jim didn’t show up. Maybe he was celebrating New Year’s with his family or something. Quite sad, really. I didn’t grasp why at the time. But, I hid my disappointment from my folks. ( I couldn’t tell them I was dating a black boy. Different times then, Frida. Different times.)

Anyway, your grandfather made up for it in 1984, New Year’s Day. I awoke to rocks hitting my window. I opened my eyes and looked outside. Jim stood outside, waving at me. I couldn’t help but to smile this time. “Finally!” I thought. Then, I quickly got dressed and hurried out the door. Jim smiled when he saw me.

“Hey!” he greeted me. I gave him a little kiss on the cheek, He looked at me playfully puzzled.

“That all I get?” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Silly! My folks could be watching! And besides…” I grabbed him by the hands tightly. “You didn’t show up yesterday, why is that?” He gave me his famous schoolboy smile.

“Cause.” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Cause why?”

“You wouldn’t want me there.”

“Well, now you’re here.”

“That’s true.” I smiled and kissed him on the lips this time. He kissed back. We slowly pulled away. I kept my smile.

“Well, shall we go?” Your grandfather smiled back at me.

“Why yes my lady!” I giggled as we headed out into the city.

“So where are we going exactly?” Jim asked. I shrugged at him.

“Just wherever.”

“Ah.” I looked at him oddly.

“Why do you say it like that? I thought you enjoyed that sort of thing.”

“I do.”

“Well, what’s the big problem?”

“Nothing!”

“Okay then.” Jim narrowed his eyes at me as I laughed. Boys are always so fun to mess with.

It snowed that New Year’s Day in Houston, Texas. Seemed to add a nice touch to out winter ’84 walk. Jim held my hand the entire time. I stayed close to keep warm. Not many people out that day. Much easier for me to work with.

“Seems quiet,” I muttered. Jim looked up some.

“Hm?” I looked over at him.

“Look around us. It’s like the snow is the apocalypse and wiped everyone out except for us. It’s like this is our kingdom.” Jim smiled at my crazy logic. He seemed to like what I was saying.

“Out kingdom, huh?” I nodded at him.

“Yes, our snow-covered kingdom.”

“Well then, what do you want to do, my queen?” I thought about that for a moment.

“I want to show you something.” Your grandfather looked at me.

“And what is that?” I smiled and dragged him down the street. I took him to the park. I looked at me as if I had lost it.

“More snow?”

“No!” Jim looked around again.

“Okay… Then why are we out here?”

“Will you just chill?” Jim went rather quiet.

“‘Cuse me!”

“Thank you!” I continued my search in the frozen paradise. “Come on,” I thought. “I know you are around here somewhere. Come out and show yourself.” Finally, I spotted it. I turned back to your grandfather.

“Jim, look! Up ahead!” He looked in the direction I was pointing in. He still didn’t get it.

“What am I looking at?”

“Keeping looking up ahead!” Jim squinted hard. He finally saw what I was talking about. A puzzled look came onto his face.

“A tree?” I turned to him, smiling.

“Not just any tree! Come on!” I led your grandfather straight forward. We stood under the dead, iced-over tree. I pointed to a carving on the trunk.

“See? My parents practically carved their vows on this tree!” Jim read the carvings to himself.

“P.H.M. luvs J.W.B. 4-ever” they read under a heart. Jim looked up at me again.

“And?” I smiled as I pulled out my carving knife from my coat pocket. Jim backed away in a heartbeat.

“Whoa! Be careful with that thing, girl!” I only giggled at him and walked over to a blank part of the trunk. I carved my initials into the bark. When I was done, I handed Jim the knife.

“Here.” He stared at me for a moment.

“You sure?”

“Yes!” He only looked at me a few seconds more before taking the knife and carving his own initials in our new tree. On that New Year’s Day in ’84, your grandfather and I declared out love for each other on that old elm tree. “S.L.B. luvs J.M.R. 4-ever” was what we carved with a bigger heart than my parents did in the 60’s. It’s still there to this day.

1984