Sun had failed to appear in Darrow County for the third week in a row and Rain was tired of covering for her. She swept up and down the county lines, first angry, then calm, then desultory and drizzling, and finally a thin, resigned mist. On the last day of the week, she told Cloud to hold down the fort and whirled off to Under the Weather, Inc. to settle the matter once and for all.

Under the Weather was a peculiar place, part agency, part public transportation, part boarding house. It existed just between the Stratosphere and the Mesosphere, flaunting trim brick and gables and the ability to dissipate into fog no matter the occupancy whenever anything threatened to crash into it. Everyone there carried a very special umbrella, resulting in an overabundance of umbrella stands around every corner and stairway. They were most often empty though since no one would ever leave their umbrella behind. After all, it wasn't really an umbrella (though it also was), it was a way of life.

Rain, coming off another long, irritable shift, used her umbrella now. She tumbled down onto Under the Weather's garden roof in a spout of droplets which then became feet and legs and the torso of a woman and a current of long black hair, topped off with watery, accusing eyes hidden behind an enormous pair of aviators. It was her way of professing attitude while remaining stoic.

Her annoyance, however, destroyed this demeanor instantly. "This has got to stop! It's ludicrous and if I don't get a break, I'll flood every town in this county."

All those passing by ignored her. Rain was often dramatic and indecisive and changed her mood on a dime. The other weather understood this, but in the way one might understand three clashing paintings on the same wall, which was to acknowledge it, but not really understand it at all. Or so Rain supposed. She often felt misunderstood. Even the Rains in other locales often misjudged her vibe.

In any case, she didn't have time for judging or misjudging, she only had time for where the hell was Sun? Nobody else seemed in much of a bother. This was Darrow County after all, notorious for its Rain and Fog and the broodiness of Cloud. Yes, he was a great brooder, Rain thought distractedly, and his sad poetry was quite good. They'd had a couple of spoken word sessions together once at an open mic night. Only Fog had clapped, but it took a certain caliber to absorb the meaning of true art, after all.

Rain slapped her umbrella over her shoulder like a sword and hiked down to transportation. This had to be settled. This had to be stopped. She knew Sun wasn't a no-show. In fact, Sun was always trying to butt in on Rain's air time, to put her dreadful smile where the world could see, to spread light on the miserable world below. What was the point? When most people acted like they were getting rained on all the time anyway, she might as well oblige. Anyway, that was the schedule. Weather always followed the schedule, and it wasn't their fault the news couldn't keep up. It required finesse and panache to truly follow the schedule, and Rain prided herself on that.

Sun said hell with the schedule, and did things her own way. That's how Rain knew this wasn't right. Why no one else did was a mystery. She thought they'd all liked Sun.

Transportation was crowded. Snow and his cousins going on shore leave. Rain sniffed. She was more like a second cousin.

The depot held what looked like the start of many pneumatic tubes, but they were cut off and open to the sky going down, down, straight down. Rain waited in line, then she cut the line to much protest and cold fronts, and launched herself off to the ground. Away she spun, in a spiral of water, her umbrella popping open and hovering always above. When she came to concrete, her umbrella snapped closed and there it was in her hand. Going from weather to person always left her with a sheen of moisture though, she shook it from her hair and brushed it from her sweater. Best not to be clammy when you might need to pretend to be nice.

So she went about Darrow County, asking the weather, asking the people. Had they seen Sun lately? The answer was always no and never had she heard such varying degrees of unhappiness. Nobody was ever unhappy when she was gone this long. But now she'd been from town to town, whisking off in curtains of rain when speed was required, and found nothing of note.

Increasingly frustrated, Rain decided to take a pause at her favorite place. The place she went whenever she was feeling particularly unkindly and downpourish. It was a hill just outside of town with a jumble of rocks that vaguely resembled a chair, offering a second-to-none view of Sun's most artistic sunsets.

In fact, Sun was there now. On the rock-chair. Her golden hair spilled curls down her back and she sat with her chin in her palms. When Rain approached, she said, "Oh, it's you."

"What are you doing in my spot?" said Rain.

Sun looked up, expression broken and lonely. "I get sad sometimes too you know. But nobody notices because I smile too much."

"Oh," said Rain, tentatively sitting next to her. "I'm...not always miserable. But nobody notices because I frown too much."

"Oh," said Sun comfortably. Understandingly.

The silence was companionable. Together they sat and watched night come down on a sky that was too overcast for sun and too unburdened for rain.