People used to believe that snakes went blind during the Dog Days of Summer, because it's a time when some snakes shed their skin.

That night after Ma made her scrub the floors, and after dinner of thin chicken soup with scraps of chicken from last night's dinner, the girl lay in her bed thinking about the witch woman. Maybe if she could find the woman again, she could take Papa's rifle and make the woman tell her how to make the rains come. She threw off the hot sheets and tip-toed to the open window even though there wasn't even a hint of a breeze. Staring out at the fields around the house she wondered where the woman lived. The girl hadn't ever seen the old woman before, but that didn't mean much. Marcus would've known. He always knew stuff like that. But then again he got to go into town a lot with his Pa. She only went into town to go to school. Sighing, she was about to go back to bed when she heard her Papa's voice from downstairs. It sounded like he was fighting with Ma again. They fought a lot when the rains didn't come.

She crept to her bedroom door and opened it slowly, then slid out into the hallway. When she reached the top of the stairs, she could hear her parent's voices from the kitchen.

"How dare they!" Her Ma was saying. "How dare they even think it?"

"It's been almost three months with no rain." Her Papa replied. "People was bound to start thinkin'."

"But it's absurd. She isn't even a summer child. She was born in autumn. It has to be a summer child."

"There ain't none left of proper age. Town's gotten too small."

"But can't we weather one dry year? Surely after last year's...after the rains came, the crops were bountiful and people had plenty. If we all share, we can survive one dry year." Her Ma's voice was all sharp and prickly. "And if not, why her? The Rouston's have three. Three! It isn't right."

"They ain't proper age and you know it."

"We should leave. We should've left last year."

"And go where?" Her Papa's voice was tired.

"Somewhere where we don't have to sacrifice to make the rains come."

"Hush now," the girl watched her Papa's shadow move close to her Ma's across the worn wooden floor, "there ain't no place like that. Not anymore."

The girl thought she could hear her Ma crying, but her parents didn't speak anymore, so she slipped back into her bedroom and lay down on her bed thinking about what she'd heard instead of thinking about the old woman.

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Because the star Sirius, also known as the Dog Star, is so bright, the ancient Romans thought it contributed to the sun's heat. (Farmers Almanac)

The woman smiled in a way that didn't seem much like a smile. "There's some folks think they know a way to make the rain come."

The girl wasn't sure what that meant, but it was even hotter by the lake than in the grass and she was getting mad at the woman for talking in riddles. "Do you know or not?"

The woman's not-smile faded and she opened her mouth to speak-

"Girl! Come away from there!"

The girl cringed then turned to find her father coming down the path that led from the south field and the house to the lake.

"Your mother been lookin' for you."

The girl nodded but didn't move. "Yessir."

Her father eyed the old woman warily. "You ain't talkin' crazy talk to my daughter are ya now?"

The old woman's face had gone stern. "She asked me if I knew how to make the rains come."

The girl's father frowned, his weather-tanned skin going pale, but then he turned to his daughter. "Ain't no one knows how to do that. We just have to pray to the good Lord and if it's his will, the rains will come." He was close enough to take her arm now. "Now come away home or your ma will go mad lookin' for us both." He faced the old woman once more. "You just stay away from her, you hear?"

The woman stood her ground. "Was just trying to be the girl's friend. Seems she's missing one."

The girl's father's face tinged red and he spun and pulled her toward the path without saying more.

When they were in the dry, dying stalks of the south field, the girl spoke. "Pa, is that woman a witch?"

He didn't stop or look at her. "No. She's just a crazy old woman. Stay away from her."

"She said that this plant called al-gee killed all the fish in the lake."

"See, crazy talk. The heat boiled the lake and killed them fish."

The girl frowned. "Oh."

Keep Writing and Edit On.
I Write, I Edit, I Write Again. Witness!
We're Making Better Words, All of Them, Better Words.
I Write to Burn Off the Crazy.
A Good Day Writing is a Day Writing.
It Puts the Words on the Page or it Gets the Hose Again.
Just keep writing...just keep writing...writing, writing, writing!
Writing is Magic.
The First Rule of Write Club is You Talk About Write Club.
If You Aren't Writing, You Aren't a Writer.