The Sound of Running Water

         Had a pipe broken under the house?  What should I do?  Let it run all night?  That was my first instinct, but all I could think about was what kind of a water bill would we have next month if I did?

         Leaving the kitchen, I had to pass the stairs again.  I paused a moment and toyed with the idea of going up there.  The kids sometimes played up there during the day.  Maybe one of them had left a faucet on, and only after the night had quietened down, was I able to hear it.  I shivered in my shorty PJs just thinking about going up there.  Not without my flashlight, I thought.  I was not feeling around those dusty walls for light switches I had no idea where were located.

         With that intention, I headed to the front of the house.  My goal was the front corner bedroom where we stowed all of the camping gear we had managed to accumulate during our six years of traveling with Clark.  Many times we depended on that gear for a temporary home in a new town.  Somewhere in that jumble was a battery-operated lantern.  That would be better than a flashlight.  More dependable.

         When I opened the door to the bedroom, I froze.  The sound of running water was much louder in this bedroom, but it was not coming from inside the house at all.  There was an old outside faucet, which we had never used, up under a drooping Cedar tree near the front corner of the property.  It sounded like it was running full-blast.

         Finding the lantern, my heart sank when I saw the switch was in the “on” position.  It had been in that position for God only knew how long, and the battery was dead as a door-nail.  Disheartened, I eased back out of the room, and headed for the front door.

         I put my ear to the door and could hear the water running even louder.  Shivering, I unlocked the door.  My heart felt like it was trembling in my throat, choking off my air supply.  Easing the door open a crack, I peeped out, and sure enough, I could hear water pouring out of the faucet like a broken pipe.

         Shutting the door and re-locking it, I leaned against it, and concentrated on breathing.  I tried to reason out how the faucet could have gotten turned on.

         Could a neighborhood dog have been running through the yard and accidentally bumped against it and turned it on?  Was someone pulling a prank?  Or was someone trying to lure me out of the house for some other nefarious purpose? 

         All I could think of was my sweet innocent babies depending on me to protect them.  What should I do?  Make a quick dash out to the faucet and get it over with?  Would whoever turned the faucet run into the house while I was outside?  Or, would they content themselves to grab me?  What to do, what to do?  I tried to think, but the sound of the rushing water seemed to fill my ears as well as the night. I felt numbed and scared and so alone.

         I knew I had to do something.  My husband would never understand if I left the water running all night just because I was afraid.  And I was so very afraid.

         Taking a deep breath, I thought well, if I had to go out there, I was not going unprepared!

         I tip-toed back down the hall, and into tmy bedroom. I wiggled a pair of jeans on over my PJ bottoms.  I threw a flannel shirt on over my PJ top, and slipped on a pair of sneakers without socks.  I didn't bother tying them. Hopefully, I wouldn't be in them that long.

         Skipper raised her head off the bed and whined, as if to say are you crazy?  Maybe I was, but I knew I would never be able to sleep with that water running through the pipes; betraying my cowardice.  I promised myself if I lived through this night, I was getting another cell phone.  Maybe I would try a throwaway one from Wal-Mart this time.  We travelled too much to even think about getting one with a plan: ditto for a house phone.  But, I would give Clark’s next month’s wages to be able to call 911 right now.