The Day it Rained Forever by Ray Bradbury

scrubbed.
    His friends scowled darkly at him.
    For it was not true, thought Martinez, that when Vamenos passed by, avalanches itched on mountain-tops. If he walked under windows, people spat, dumped garbage, or worse. Tonight now, this night, he would stroll beneath ten thousand wide-opened windows, near balconies, past alleys. Suddenly the world absolutely sizzled with flies. And here was Vamenos, a fresh-frosted cake.
    â€˜You sure look keen in that suit, Vamenos,’ said Manulo sadly.
    â€˜Thanks.’ Vamenos twitched, trying to make his skeleton comfortable where all their skeletons had so recently been. In a small voice, Vamenos said, ‘Can I go now?’
    â€˜Villanazul!’ said Gomez. ‘Copy down these rules.’
    Villanazul licked his pencil.
    â€˜First,’ said Gomez, ‘don’t fall down in that suit, Vamenos!’
    â€˜I won’t.’
    â€˜Don’t lean against buildings in that suit.’
    â€˜No buildings.’
    â€˜Don’t walk under trees with birds in them, in that suit. Don’t smoke. Don’t drink –’
    â€˜Please,’ said Vamenos, ‘can I sit down in this suit?’
    â€˜When in doubt, take the pants off, fold them over a chair.’
    â€˜Wish me luck,’ said Vamenos.
    â€˜Go with God, Vamenos.’
    He went out. He shut the door.
    There was a ripping sound.
    "Vamenos!’ cried Martinez.
    He whipped the door open.
    Vamenos stood with two halves of a handkerchief torn in his hands, laughing.
    â€˜Rrrip! Look at your faces! Rrrip!’ He tore the cloth again. ‘Oh, oh, your faces, your faces! Ha!’
    Roaring, Vamenos slammed the door, leaving them stunned and alone.
    Gomez put both hands on top of his head and turned away. ‘Stone me. Kill me. I have sold our souls to a demon!’
    Villanazul dug in his pockets, took out a silver coin and studied it for a long while.
    â€˜Here is my last fifty cents. Who else will help me buy back Vamenos’s share of the suit?’
    â€˜It’s no use.’ Manulo showed them ten cents. ‘We got only enough to buy the lapels and the buttonholes.’
    Gomez, at the open window, suddenly leaned out and yelled, ‘Vamenos! No!’
    Below on the street, Vamenos, shocked, blew out a match, and threw away an old cigar butt he had found somewhere. He made a strange gesture to all the men in the window above, then waved airily and sauntered on.
    Somehow, the five men could not move away from the window. They were crushed together there.
    â€˜I bet he eats a hamburger in that suit,’ mused Villanazul. ‘I’m thinking of the mustard.’
    â€˜Don’t!’ cried Gomez. ‘No, no!’
    Manulo was suddenly at the door.
    â€˜I need a drink, bad.’
    â€˜Manulo, there’s wine here, that bottle, on the floor –’
    Manulo went out and shut the door.
    A moment later, Villanazul stretched with great exaggeration and strolled about the room.
    â€˜I think I’ll walk down to the plaza, friends.’
    He was not gone a minute when Dominguez, waving his black book at the others, winked, and turned the doorknob.
    â€˜Dominguez,’ said Gomez.
    â€˜Yes?’
    â€˜If you see Vamenos, by accident,’ said Gomez, ‘warn him away from Mickey Murillo’s Red Rooster Café. They got fights not only on TV but out front of the TV , too.’
    â€˜He wouldn’t go into Murillo’s,’ said Dominguez. ‘That suit means too much to Vamenos. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt it.’
    â€˜He’d shoot his mother first,’ said Martinez.
    â€˜Sure he would.’
    Martinez and Gomez, alone, listened to Dominguez’s footsteps hurry away down the stairs. They circled the undressed window dummy.
    For a long while, biting his lips, Gomez stood at the window, looking out. He touched his shirt pocket twice, pulled his hand away, and then at last pulled something from the pocket.