Perusina, Perusino, and Franz in Moyobamba

The rain came suddenly.

Not slowly. Not politely. Not with a little "Maybe I'll get wet in a moment." No. The sky ripped open over Moyobamba, and it pounded on the roofs so loudly that Perusino couldn't hear his own voice anymore.

Which, however, did not stop him from continuing to talk.

"All I'm saying is: If you're looking for shelter in the rain, that place absolutely must have a food stall!"

Perusina didn't answer. She stood in the middle of the plaza, head slightly tilted, staring at a stall full of orchids. Some blooms were tiny like beetle wings. Others looked as if they had dressed up for a party.

Franz sat underneath and sneezed.

"ACHOO!"

Yellow pollen landed on his nose.

A woman with a green cloth over her shoulders clapped her hands. "Oh no. Not that too!"

Perusina turned to her. "What happened?"

The woman pointed to the orchids. "Today is the small orchid festival. Children from the city are supposed to learn which flowers are protected and which come from gardens. But someone swapped the signs."

Perusino blinked. "That doesn't sound bad."

The woman became serious. "It is. One of the orchids is rare. If it has the wrong sign, it could be sold. But it must not be sold."

Franz sneezed again. "ACHOO! I agree with the flower. This is outrageous."

Perusina stepped closer to the table. At first glance, there were just many pots. On second glance, everything was a mess. Signs were stuck crookedly in the earth. Some names were smudged. One pot was empty.

"One is missing," Perusina said.

The woman nodded. "The rain orchid."

"Why is it called that?" Perusino asked.

At that moment, there was a flash. Not in the sky. On a bloom.

Far in the back, half under a palm leaf, a silvery pattern briefly lit up. Three small lines. Like arrows.

Perusina gasped. "Because you can see it better in the rain."

Then someone at the edge of the square snatched up a wooden box.

"Hey!" Perusino called.

A boy with an oversized hat ran off. Under his arm, he clutched a box of orchid pots. He jumped over a puddle, almost slipped, caught himself, and disappeared between two market stalls.

"After him!" Perusina called.

Franz darted off. At least, he tried to. His paws slipped on the wet stones, and he glided across the plaza like a very offended dishcloth.

"I'm pursuing strategically!" he called.

Perusino grabbed him by the scarf and pulled him back onto his paws. Then they ran off.

The boy was fast. He weaved through people with umbrellas, ducked under a canvas roof, and vanished into an alley. Perusina didn't just follow him. She followed the pollen.

Because everywhere the box had wobbled, tiny yellow traces lay in the rainwater.

"That way!" she called.

The trail led to an old house with a wooden balcony. The roof dripped in seven places at once. A shred of green ribbon hung from the railing.

Franz sniffed. "Orchid. Wet hat. And... fear."

"Fear?" Perusino asked.

Then there was a clatter above them.

The boy stood on the balcony. The box was open. A pot was dangerously tipping over the edge.

Perusina stopped. "Don't move!"

Perusino spread his arms. "I can catch it! The pot, I mean. Maybe the soil too. Not all at once."

Franz jumped onto a bench, from there onto a flowerpot, and then onto the lowest wooden strut of the balcony. He was even surprised that it worked.

"I'm up!" he called. "Almost. Mentally, anyway."

The pot slipped.

Perusina saw the silvery pattern on the leaves light up. Three lines. Arrow, arrow, dot.

"Franz! Left!"

Franz extended his paw and just barely nudged the pot back.

The boy collapsed on the balcony. "I didn't want to sell it," he said softly.

Perusina came up the stairs. "Then why did you take it?"

The boy looked at the box. "My sister discovered the rain orchid. But no one believes her. Everyone says it's just a normal flower. I wanted to take it to the old balcony. This is where she found it. If it glows in the rain, everyone would see that she was right."

Perusino scratched his head. "So you accidentally did almost exactly what a thief would do."

The boy nodded. "Yes."

Franz shook himself. Pollen sprayed in all directions. "Kids who want to prove something are very exhausting."

Perusina carefully lifted the orchid. "Then we'll prove it properly."

Back on the plaza, the woman placed all the pots under a transparent roof. The rain continued to drum. Perusina rearranged the signs. Perusino was allowed to hold the pots, which only nearly went wrong once. Franz got a cloth around his nose because his sneezing was now considered a weather event.

Then came the rain orchid.

At first, it looked unremarkable. Small light blossoms. Dark leaves. Nothing loud.

But when the rain dripped through a gap in the roof onto the bloom, fine silvery lines lit up. Like small paths on a secret map.

The children on the plaza grew silent.

"It really glowed," the boy whispered.

The woman smiled. "Then it also gets the right sign. And remains protected."

Perusino leaned over to Franz. "So the flower is famous because it shows its true self in the rain."

Franz nodded importantly. "I do too."

"You?"

"Yes. In the rain, I look like a wet broom with ears. Very honest."

Perusina laughed. Then she looked at the orchid again.

Moyobamba smelled of rain, earth, and blossoms. And somewhere between the drops lay a secret that only became visible if you didn't run away as soon as it got wet.