I stared as the faucet leaked. Hard as I tried to tighten it, the water dripped.
Open. Close. Open more. Close tighter. Nothing worked. So I kneeled down to
sink level and stared it down, like the water was going to sense my frustration
and just stop. It was dripping so quickly that I expected it to start streaming at
any moment.
Dripdripdripdripdripdrip.
What would it take to make you stop dripping? I thought. What can I do for you?
Hmm, Iʼm talking to a faucet. I closed my eyes and listened.
Suddenly, I was eight years old. And outside. My best friend Ryan and I were
riding our bikes in the rain. We loved to ride in the rain. The roads were slick,
and our hands and feet would sometimes slide off the handlebars and pedals, but
this was it, the ultimate freedom. Our t-shirts and shorts were doubled in weight
and clung to us, our bodies soaked to the bone, our minds without a care in the
world.
Weʼd stop at the sewer grates and listen as the rain fell straight through the holes
into the dark. Weʼd get on our knees, faces almost planted to the ground, one
eye squeezed shut, to see what was below. It was pitch black, all we could hear
was the sound of water on water.
Dripdripdripdripdripdrip.
Weʼd kneel for a while, wondering what was down there, how deep it was. One
day, we said with a sparkly in our eyes, one day letʼs go down there. Weʼd
imagine inhaling the biggest, deepest breath and holding it. Then, like we saw
people do on TV, take our thumb and index finger and pinch our noses really
tight so water wouldnʼt rush up into our heads. Finally, weʼd grasp each otherʼs
free hand and stand face-to-face, our bodies as close as possible, the knuckles
of our makeshift nose plugs bumping against each other. Weʼd close our eyes as
tight as we could, then jump. Weʼd tunnel straight down through a pillar of water,
spinning like we were in the centre of a cyclone.
Finally, weʼd splash into an open area, coming up to the surface, gasping for air
while laughing like weʼd never laughed before. Our cackles would echo against
the mucky brown walls that curved inwards, that sound only making us laugh
harder and louder. Weʼd take a moment and look at everything surrounding us.
We were no longer in a sewer underneath our neighbourhood, we were in a
secret underground universe. An undiscovered playground had been waiting for
our arrival. Weʼd imagine that even though we splashed down from ground level,
it was deep enough not to get hurt, yet still so shallow that we could touch the
ground with the tips of our toes. Just as soon as weʼd caught our breath, our
underground adventure would begin.
Weʼd glide over to one of the cave walls and mark a big “X” so we knew where
weʼd started from, pick a direction and start walking. Weʼd count our steps as we
went. Weʼd make them as long as we could and try to land on two feet. One,
Two, Three…we were almost squealing as we counted. Every five strides weʼd
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stop, and make another big “X” on the wall, like Hansel and Gretel and their
breadcrumbs.
There would, as with any adventure, be a split in the tunnel, and weʼd have to
choose which way to go. For this, the process was simple, we would close our
eyes and then I would start spinning around as quickly as I could with one arm
raised and pointing forward. Ryan would yell “NOW!”, and Iʼd stop. Weʼd open
our eyes and follow the direction I was pointing towards. Then weʼd decide that it
was time to dive under the water and swim towards our next destination. Holding
our legs together, kicking like we were fish, and the water our home. Weʼd hope
it would be clear enough that we could open our eyes. It was.
At first, we would see nothing, just tunnel and water ahead. Then to our left,
something would catch our eye. Weʼd return to the surface wide eyed and
excited, had we really just seen what we thought? We had, no question. We had
to go back and get it. So weʼd count to three, then dive under once again, our
bodies propelling through the water, nothing would stop us now.
Finally, we made it to the bottom, grabbed the ʻtreasureʼ and swam back to the
surface. We would cheer for ourselves while catching our breath. Weʼd done it,
weʼve found buried treasure. Ryan was holding the goods. Heʼd open his palm
and there it was, a gold key. It was so shiny we could swear it was actually
glowing. Our minds would start racing as quickly as our hearts beat. A key?!
WOW, a key! Weʼd imagine all the things it could open. Maybe there were doors
and passageways down here that would take us to a whole other world. A world
where everyone ate ice cream for breakfast, lunch and dinner, you could ride
your bike as late as you wanted and the kids made all the rules. Or maybe there
was just this amazing room where everything you ever wanted was at your
fingertips, just waiting for you. Yes, thatʼs what it was for. This was the key to the
place where anything and everything was possible. Ryan and I, we found it, and
that made us special. You see, we decided that there were probably only a few
of these keys, and if you were lucky enough to find one, you were in the club, a
member for life. Once the key was zipped safely inside my waist pouch, weʼd
decide that it would be best to come back another time to find the door, it was
getting late and we had to get home for dinner. Now that we knew this place was
here, we could come back any time we wanted. Finding that door was not going
to be an easy task and we wanted to come back prepared. Weʼd follow the “X”s
back to the beginning, congratulating ourselves for coming up with such a genius
and foolproof system for finding our way back home.
Once we got to the opening, weʼd look up, wondering how we were going to
make our way back to our bikes. We were hopeful, now that weʼd found the key,
there was nothing that could stop us from doing everything we wanted. Weʼd
look up to see ridges and ledges everywhere. Weʼd decide that climbing back up
was the only way to get back. Slowly, and step by step, we made our way back
up, me before Ryan, because he had to hoist me up to reach the first ledge.
Once I saw the ground opening, I pulled myself out onto the ground. I turned and
kneeled down, reaching out to help Ryan with the last part of his climb. We
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grasped hands and I pulled as hard as I could until he was able to pull himself
out.
We stayed there, kneeling next to the sewer, for a while. Soaking wet, hair
matted to our faces and clothes clinging to our bodies, our hands desperately
clinging to the gold key.
Ryan and I looked up from the sewer grate and smiled. Our smiles were the
biggest theyʼd ever been. Pure happiness was beaming from our whole bodies.
We knew we had a new secret, bigger than we could have ever imagined. The
gold key could take us anywhere we wanted. The rain still fell, the sound of
water on water ringing in our ears.
Dripdripdripdripdripdrip.
I was starting to get sore from kneeling on the tile staring at the sink. Iʼve given it
a good effort, I thought to myself. Thereʼs something going on deep in the pipes
and thereʼs no way for me to dive down to find the problem. And frankly, at this
point I didnʼt even care to figure it out. I am no longer that girl who dove down
tunnels and searched for treasure, that adventurer. For a moment though, I
could swear that faucet was starting back, itʼs eyes the hot and cold handles,
asking me to give it one last shot. Okay, fine. One last open and one last close.
If that doesnʼt work then Iʼm done. Again, Iʼm talking to the tap. I slowly turn the
faucet, and keep turning until the water is gushing. In one swift motion, I close it,
as tight as I can, and let go. Silence. I smile and turn to leave the room,
congratulating myself on giving it one last try.
Dripdripdripdripdripdrip.
My smile doesnʼt fade and I continue to walk away. Ok, Iʼm done staring as the
faucet leaks, at least I gave it a shot. It doesnʼt matter that the water wonʼt stop. I
get it now, maybe I canʼt fit down that sink, I canʼt actually dive into the tunnel and
see whatʼs there, but Iʼm grateful for the reminder. I wonʼt always have the
answer, but the gold key, that, Iʼll always have.
Story By Candice
