WHEN RUBY AND SIMON APPEARED in the kitchen the next morning, Dad dropped his doughnut in mock surprise.
“I don’t think I’ve ever laid eyes on you two at this hour,” he said. “I hardly recognize you.”
Mom handed them each a piece of toast. “I’d probably be incorrect to assume you’re up at five AM to help me with chores.”
“Yes,” Simon said with a matter-of-fact nod. “That would be incorrect.”
“So, what, then?” Dad asked, and Ruby shrugged.
“Couldn’t sleep, I guess,” she said.
Across the table, Simon grinned at her.
They were still yawning as they stepped outside later, the dogs following closely at their heels as they made their way down toward the pond. The night before, she and Simon had stayed up talking until late, and he’d fallen asleep curled at the foot of her bed, the way he used to when they were younger. When the first pieces of sunlight had come through the curtains this morning, Simon had sat up—his blond hair sticking up in the back, his eyes still sleepy—and smiled at her in wonder.
“Wow,” he said, and Ruby had nodded. She understood exactly what he meant.
Lately they’d been feeling like a couple of Ping-Pong balls, batted this way and that, hopeful and excited one moment, terrified and anxious the next. It was an odd mixture of fear and wonder, this weather business; at times, all they could think about was the miracle of rain, and at others, like last night, they were reminded of the grim odds against them, the battles still to be waged, and it was then that the doubt crept in again.
But this morning was bright with promise, and it seemed to Ruby that she and Simon were once again on the same team. And that had always—always—made everything better.
When they neared the trees, the dogs wandered back toward the farm and Simon and Ruby trotted the rest of the way, crashing through the branches to find Otis and Daisy waiting for them on the dock.
“You’re late,” Daisy pointed out.
“We brought doughnuts,” Ruby said, handing over a brown paper bag.
Daisy grinned. “You’re forgiven.”
Ruby and Daisy sat cross-legged on the dry grass near the edge of the pond as Otis and Simon got to work. The night before, they’d all stood in the dark field and watched Simon try to make it drizzle without any more luck than he’d been having on his own. Otis had paced back and forth, offering tips like a baseball coach, readjusting Simon’s hands, suggesting mental exercises—Picture the rain cloud!—and just generally shouting encouragement.
“It’s not all magic,” he’d said. “It’s about tuning your mind to the exact weather phenomenon you’re attempting to conjure.”
Simon had looked at him blankly, then wiggled his fingers at the sky one more time without any sort of results. After that, they’d called it a night.
Now they were working on wind. Simon was perched on the edge of the dock, eyeing the glassy surface of the pond.
“Just a slight breeze is all you need to start,” Otis was saying, but when Ruby craned her neck to look at the water, the only movement she saw was the ripple of the minnows below. Simon threw his head back in frustration, blowing out an exaggerated sigh.
“You just need to—” Otis began, but Simon cut him off.
“You do it,” he said, his voice full of challenge. “Let’s see you do it.”
From where she and Ruby were sitting near the edge of the pond, Daisy narrowed her eyes as she watched the scene before her. Simon drew himself to full height, straightening his scrawny shoulders, waiting. But Otis only took a step back to lean against one of the rails of the pier.
“You’re the one…” he said, then hesitated; there was a catch in his voice. “You’re the one who needs to know all of this.”