I was in a lather— but not like that.
I wasn't mad, at least not at you or anyone else particularly.
I was upset with the water in my shower.
After a long, tiring day, I had finally stepped in to my newly renovated shower in my newly renovated house. It was close to the midnight hour and not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Just a Jason. He was all that was stirring.
I had closed my eyes and let the hot water cascade down on my tense shoulders and wash away all the anxieties of the day. I had soaped up and was singing and that’s when it happened. Just then, just when I was in a lather.
My shower all of a sudden reduced to a trickle.
Here I am, nice and relaxed and soapy from my head to my toes.
I wasn’t nice and relaxed any more. The tension and anxiety returned.
What to do? I started to call out to my wife and say 'Honey, can you please go out to the pump shed and turn on the pump switch so I can finish my shower?'
Or, perhaps I could call out to one of the kids, “Roan or Celine, can one of y’all go out to the pump shed and fix it so Daddy can finish his shower?”
It was then that I remembered the cold, hard, depressing and soapy truth, that I have neither wife nor kids.
That made me even more depressed than standing covered in soap in a shower with no water.
But, I couldn’t just stand here soapy in the shower for the rest of the night.
The air conditioning had come on and I was beginning to catch a chill.
I found a bath robe or a tunic or whatever those things are called. I went to the cabinet in the kitchen where I keep my tools. I have a limited supply. I am not mechanically inclined, so my job was to fetch the 9/16th’s wrench and hold the flashlight. Since I am still moving back in to my house, I could not find a working flashlight. I though for a moment and activated the flashlight on my cell phone. I grabbed the hammer and set off for the pump shed. The pump shed is actually an old hog feeder we had when we owned hogs. Daddy put the body of it over the pump to surround it and used the top for the roof.
The pump does like this sometimes. I am no expert on anything mechanical, but occasionally ants get in the pump and it won’t contact and therefore won’t crank up and actually pump water.
I say ants, but perhaps it is better as my former pastor used to say “aintz”. He would call Daddy when it would happen and say: “Bro. Jimmie, Aintz are in the pump. Can you come help me get them out?”
I didn’t look for aintz, ants or uncles. I looked for the switch.
I gave it a couple of swift taps on its head and it cranked right up and started pumping.
I started to run all the way to the house and finish my nice, hot, relaxing shower.
But, who am I kidding, I haven’t run anywhere in 20 years. And, if you ever saw that happen, you can rest assured something was chasing me.
No, I decided to walk swiftly back to the house.
I was sure hoping I did not have a wardrobe malfunction right there in the front yard by the pump. The trees are too skinny to hide behind.
It was night, but there were still some birds flitting about and some were still singing even.
I wonder if one of them was a jay bird. And, as the saying goes, here I am out in the yard in the dark of night, dressed or, well, undressed like one.
