"Thirty-eight families have been forced from their homes," the handsome news anchor was saying. "And the water here in central Texas keeps on rising."

Gary Trevin listened to the TV as he straightened the small living room. Trudy, his wife, was in the kitchen, making dinner. There was a smirk on the anchors' face, like he didn't really care about what he was saying---it seemed like just another story. Gary stopped putting away his daughter's toys and sat on the sofa, watching the footage of the river. Mostly it was muddy water, roiling and cresting in foam, but inbetween the waves Gary could see the tops of homes and cars covered by the murky current. He wondered about the stream behind the house. He hadn't checked its banks, hadn't bothered to look out the back window to see how high it had risen since the rain began.

"Honey," he said. "Where's Laura?"

"She's next door, playing with the Greathouse girls."

"They're not outside are they?"

"Well, what do you think?"

"You can't know that she isn't. I used to play in rain like this."

"She's got more sense than you have. Did you hear anything today?"

"Two places said they'd hire me, but they'd already filled the jobs. A third said I was overqualified."

"Who's overqualified? Shouldn't they want to hire the best man for the job?"

"The lady at job services says that 'overqualified' means they think I won't take orders well."

His wife stood with her left hand on her hip. Her lips were compressed and with her right hand she pulled a stray lock of hair back into her ponytail.

"What?" Gary said.

"Nothing," Trudy said, thoughtfully. "I'm just frustrated."

"That's two of us then. Did you see the news? The river is rising an average of 3 feet an hour."

"That's great," Trudy said, returning to the kitchen.

"What do you mean, great? What if we get flooded out?"

"I can't hear you," Trudy yelled from the kitchen. Gary came to the doorway of the small brown and white room.

"I didn't hear you. What did you say?" Trudy said when she saw him leaning on the door frame.

"I said the river is rising three feet an hour."

"Maybe you could get work as an emergency worker. Did you check into that?"

"How many FEMA workers do you think have a master's degree?"

Trudy shrugged her shoulders and turned to the sink. Gary crossed the kitchen to look out into the back yard. He thought he heard her say "It's work." Ten days of almost constant rain had saturated the ground, flooding Laura's sandbox to the rim. A doll floated in a puddle by the back fence. Below the fenceline he could see the stream rolling with foam and debris. The usually mild stream looked about to break its banks at any moment. He could see next door, where Mr. Greathouse's red brick fishpond had flooded, leaving the Koi he stocked the pond with swimming in a muddy pool.

"Does Greathouse know his fish are out of the pond?"

"I don't know. Why don't you call him."

"He's probably at work."

Trudy turned and stood beside him. "I wish it would rain some," she said. She forced a smile. Her eyes were red and puffy.

"What's wrong?" Gary said.

"You know, just overwhelmed by all of this. The goddamned water just keeps coming down."

"It's rained here before and you didn't get upset."

"All right," Trudy said as she put a tray of lasagna in the oven. "Why does it take you all day to talk to three employers?"

"It doesn't. Bill Gotfried from the department and I had lunch."

"Yeah, and then?"

"I had some errands. You know."

"Did you get the laundry like I asked you to?"

"No, I'll get it tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it. I got it already," Trudy said as she walked back to the sink.

"Then why'd you ask?"

"It doesn't matter," Trudy said, her shoulders hunching over. Gary thought she looked old and tired.

Gary stood for a few moments watching Trudy's back. He felt he should hold her, try to make things right, but he couldn't. Things had not been right since he lost his teaching job. Unemployment had been an inevitability when he signed the three year contract, but he resolved to change this through hard work. He had hoped that obvious dedication would get him a fixed term position at the least, but despite working longer hours and for less pay, the day had come and he was out--just like that. At first, the break was a welcome one, even Trudy had enjoyed his being home so often. But it had been a three months since he had worked and two months since he was paid. Their savings was gone.

"I'll go get Laura for supper," Gary said as he left the kitchen. Trudy didn't turn from the sink.