The preacher prayed for rain again that morning. As I remember, it was the thirteenth Sunday in a row he'd prayed for it. Folks was startin' to get upset with his always prayin' for rain and none a-comin'. They'd just as soon he not pray for it as to have him remind them that there hadn't been no rain and everything was wiltin' dry and dead an' stuff. You could almost hear folks groanin' when he started praying for the "farmer's wealthfair." Not that he was a bad preacher mind ya. When it came to blessin' barns and preachin' about the Bible he was good. I'd never onced seen one of the barns he'd blessed burn down. It's just that he kept prayin' for rain and none ever came.

I guess just about everyone was ready for somethin' ta happen. But no one expected what happened next. About the time church got out there came a bright red wagon with blue wheels. No one had seen the likes of it since the carnival had come through on the way to the city a few years back. It came right down the street and stopped at the edge of town with the back facing the folk comin' out of preachin'. The sight of this wagon gathered a crowd all by itself. If it hadn't, what happened next would have. There was a rustlin' and a clangin' from the back then a tall man came out. He was wearin' the most torn up clothes I ever seen. And if that wasn't enough, he was wet all over; drenched from head ta foot like he had falled in the creek or somethin', but that couldn't be, 'cause the creek was so dried up it was only knee deep on a grasshopper. Just yesterday Old Tom said it was good we weren't Baptists 'cause if we were the preacher couldn't baptize no one until the rains come.

The tall man started talkin' real loud as soon as he come out of the wagon. His voice was so comandin' that everyone listened. Even if someone had tried to say somethin' they couldn't have 'cause he was makin' so much noise bangin' on that washtub. It sounded like God himself was thunderin' in heaven. No one remembers much about what he said except that he was a rainmaker, that he went around makin' rain where there wasn't none. What people remember best wasn't what he said, but the way he said it. He talked with a voice that thundered like the heavens themselves, and his words flowed over us like a river of salvation and no one could stop listening to him. The strangest thing was that the whole time he didn't dry up. It musta been 100 in the shade and he didn't dry up. He was drippin' with water. Then he said somethin' strange. He said ta heal the land he had ta heal the people on it, and that each of the farmers and storekeepers had ta come up so as he could lay his hands on them and pray over them.

First he grabbed hold of Mr. Greely. Mrs. Greely was right there with him 'casue she didn't have no younguns ta look after. The rain maker put one hand on Mr. Greely and the other on Mrs. Greely and pushed them both to their knees. Then he started prayin' for Mr. Greely's store and his chickens and his wife. He seemed to spend a lot of time on his wife. Then he did the strangest thing. He told Mr. Greely that from now on his name would be Ike. Everybody knew that Mr. Greely's name was Ichobod Greely, and now we was supposed to call him Ike. When he was finished prayin' Mrs. Greely was so happy that she threw her arms around the rainmaker and go the wettest of them all.

Next came Alen Wally. It took Alen a while to make it to the front of the crowd. For a long time after his wife and son died he wasn't as fast as he usta be. Folks say he usta be the strongest man around these parts. When the rainmaker reached out to put his hands on Alen's head, Alen fell to the ground without him pushin' down at all like a dry reed breakin' in the wind. Then the Rainmaker put his large wet hands on Alen's dry hair that was blowin' in the wind and started prayin' again. The strength of the Rainmaker's voice was stronger than before. He seemed to be tryin' to wake the dead with his deep voice. The power of his prayin' seemed even more overwhelming. The whole thing got even hairier when Alen, that large man, started cryin' like he was a baby cryin' for his daddy. The lump in my throat was bigger than a seed melon. I have been ta camp meetin's and heard mighty prayin' before, but he was prayin' with the voice of the Almighty hisself. Then, when the Rainmaker was finished prayin, he bend down and whispered gently, as gently as a mother to her baby while singing a lullaby, in Alen's ear. I don't know what he told Alen, but Alen's face suddenly took on the look of a strong man, and the Rainmaker lifted Alen ta his feet and I never seen him look bigger or stronger in all my life. Like he had a new chance on life again.

The Rainmaker kept prayin' and prayin' until about all the folks in town had been prayer over. Everyone had water drippin' from their heads. The Rainmaker left town without anyone really noticing. We was all dazed by it all. It was like he had disappeared into heaven or somethin'. But even with all that prayin' it didn't rain fer another four weeks. The whole season was a flop. We was all real poor folk that winter. Yet people didn't seem ta mind. They had other things on their mind. For one, Ike Greely was happy because his wife had a baby. Twins in fact. So Ike was twice as proud as a regular father. After that, Alen started goin' round town and helpin' people with their hard work. There wasn't any barn rasin's that year, but since then he's been at ev'ry one. That's on top of all his work at the blacksmith shop. We had just enough ta eat that year and no more, but no one seemed ta mind.

No one ever saw that crazy Rainmaker again. None of the towns around saw him neither. He just rode off ta Lord only knows where. Sometimes I wonder where he is. He prayed mighty pow'rful, but no rains come. All those good things happened; all those blessings, but no rain. I just wonder who that Rainmaker thought he was.