The rain was pouring for hours that night, just as if a dam in the sky had ripped open. My feet were soaking wet from sinking in a pothole that I parked next to. A "Mr. Folker" wanted me to run an extra 20 feet of pipe under his patio, for his irrigation system. I told him I would crunch some numbers and get back to him with a price. I then carelessly slapped my foot in a hole the size of Cabrini Green. The shimmering raindrops had made the hole invisible to those standing above the surface of the water.
A long forgotten memory flashed in my mind as the shock of the fridgid water startled me. I recalled playing by a creek with some friends; I rolled a big log across a fast-moving stream, causing the water to pool up behind the log. We then tossed a bunch of debris on top of it creating a small dam. We watched as the backwater got deeper and deeper, not realizing, as the water deepened, it was also seeping around the sides of the dam. The water was sneaking around like a snake in a dense jungle, hidden by the log. The seeping water was scouring loose a new path to travel through. Without warning, the banks of sand gave way and a wall of water ploughed into poor little Mike. He stood paralyzed at the frightening site as the huge wall of water cascading straight at him, engulfed him beneath the surface. Mike's timely fortune arose again, as he landed on his feet like an alleycat, sustaining only minor cuts and bruises. Mike needed this good luck, as he lived his life in a constant state of danger. His life or other peoples', it didn't really seem to matter much to Mike.
It's been at least 5 hours of constant rain. How much more water can the reservoir hold? I heard on the news that it was over capacity, in fact, still rising.... It has been raining off and on now for the last two weeks. People are sick of it. The wind is ensuring everything in sight is saturated with this cursed downpour. No place to hide from this storm. The radio seemed to boast that the shoreline is prone to flooding tonight since there is an unusually high tide rolling in over the next few hours. I hope I can avoid the idiot drivers that this weather always brings.
I pulled up at my next, and hopfully final stop of the night. This one should be easy. They said it was a small pipe leaking in the back of the boiler room in the basement. It should be a quick repair and home in time to catch the game before halftime. It's nice being able to call my own hours, now that I am working for myself. I should have done this ages ago and saved myself from all the headaches and ulcers one gets from being aggrevated and underappreciated for so many years. Repairing other peoples screw-ups for a living might not be glamourous, but it sure as heck pays the bills.
Let's see now, I think it was Mr. Hecker that I was supposed to contact. I tried looking at the directory but they must have changed it recently. All of the letter's A, H, E, and T appeared to be missing. I passed by a security guard window but the guard was glued to a monitor with his back to me. Hard to tell, but he looked so stiff, I was thinking it could just be a manequin someone propped up in there. Oh well, for what they pay those guys, I guess I shouldn't complain.
As luck would have it, a gray-haired man was walking the hall so I asked him if he knew Mr. Hecker and where I could find him. He said he could help me and that I should follow him. He then said, "try not to disturb any clients", as they needed their rest that time of night. I didn't know what he meant by that, but didn't really care. All I wanted to do was finish the job and get out of here before any more roads flooded out.
We weaved our way further and further down the halls, making me feel like a rat in a maze. It also felt like someone close by was watching me. Naturally, I ruled that out, figuring that I felt like that because I've been exposed to too much depressing weather. It really was making me a little bit edgy. The gray-haired man was limping a little, and it looked like his hair hadn't seen a shower in months, even though it was still wet from the rain. I noticed a musty odor the moment we entered the staircase to the lower levels of the building. The old man himself, reeked of an awful stench. It can't be much further I thought to myself, as we descended to yet another level below the surface.
As we turned down another dimly lit corridor, it seemed that the shadows had absorbed the old man and I could no longer see him. Feeling a little startled; I spun around to get my bearings. Somehow, the old man had gotten around me and I caught a glimpse of him scurrying off into the stairwell. He was laughing and giggling like a little punk kid. Just when I thought this smelly little nut case had pulled off what he thought to be a funny prank, I noticed an office door with a name tag on it. Yes! It was Mr. Hecker's office! Taking a second to check my wallet, I knocked on the door. "Mr. Hecker"? I asked, as a man who looked like Albert Einstein opened the door. "Yes, he replied, Are you here to repair the plumbing leak"? "That's right, I said". "Why don't you show me where it is and I'll get started." "Fine, he said, just follow me". So, down the hall we went. Walking past corridor after corridor again. Down even more flights of stairs lower and lower beneathe the surface. The smell was even more acrid here, then it was before. The ventilation system must have been in dire need of repair, because it was getting rather stifling the further down we went. Sweat was beginning to bead on my forehead. It was really oppressive down here! Finally, at the end of the hall he pointed to a set of double doors, and said, "there's the leak, it's on the 6th boiler down". He then abruptly turned and walked away, without a glance or any acknowledgement at all. I really couldn't help getting annoyed at this place and the odd behavior it bred. Hey, I thought to myself. I've got a job to do. As long as they pay me, why should I care?
I opened the door to the boiler room and there stood a scene straight out of hell. The air was heavy, almost thick enough to where you could swim in it. The old gas boiler flames were thick orange with occassional flickerings of red, yellow and blue. It was ghastly hot. Smoke hung from the ceiling and I knew this was a dangerous place to be. I tried to shrug off my fear and feelings of trepidation by looking for boiler #6. Darn it, I thought to myself, it was in the back of this cavernous room all the way in the far corner. If I make a mistake in here,I know there will be hell to pay. I cautiously walked to the back of the room. With each step a feeling of impending doom grew bigger and larger until I felt like I was walking, suspended on a tightrope. A rope that was strung out over a vast canyon; one wrong move and I would go plummeting to a very agonizing, yet certain death.
