Frowsty Water

It had been months since we had last seen a flowing current. Since the regime had taken hold simple pleasures had become critical needs, needs had become ever more demanding and demands had become jokes.

We had always lived in hostile conditions but we had never had to eat from the trash or shower in the city's contaminated river or rob. Robbing had filled the gap where work had once been, work was more of a mental health exercise to help keep your sanity as whatever you were getting paid didn't pay the bills and sanity was more of a subjective condition. Non of us were really sane, not since he had taken power, nor would we ever be sane again.

The call had come at 5:50 that same morning, the Zelle had come through so we had the money to do the job, or the bosses had the money and we had to do the job. That might be a bit unfair, of all the horrible jobs that now existed in the capital, drilling still maintained a shred of dignity and Geocara had managed to pay us decently even at the darkest of times. It was still not enough, but who ever said they were paid enough in the capital these days? Even if you did, you wouldn't say it because you'd get kidnapped instantly.

I sluggishly sat on my side of the bed. My pregnant wife was already taking care of breakfast with the help of our 5 children. We were lucky to have breakfast that day, my wife had fought through a crowd to get a bag of beans so her swollen belly was bruised but we had breakfast. That kid would grow up to be a boxer, I'm sure.

I ate half my breakfast and said I was full so she could have the rest. I went to the back of our 50sq ft house, opened the curtain that was the door to the bathroom and squatted on the 'floor hole' for a while. No luck. I opened one of the two plastic containers full of water, the water smelled a bit frowsty. I took a couple of old ice-cream plastic bowls, filled them with water, washed my face, brushed my teeth, or pretended to because we had no toothpaste, and was off.

We arrived at 7:30 am, a little late but still ok, I had to take 3 busses and a tube but the busses so so packed I had to wait 3 turns for each. The machinery was already there in the patio of a 7 story brick building on the south side of the capital. The rich side. The building was duly kept although it had seen better times, as we all had. The garden was full of plants and where flowers once were, crops had replaced them, trees filled with mangoes and avocados, walls with ripe tomatoes, lettuces and berries. I had forgotten how beautiful vegetables were.

The boss yelled and we got to work. Click, bang, bang push. In came the first drill. The sun was almost at high noon and that meant the temperature was around 27 degrees. Click, bang, bang pull. Out came the first drill, 20 meters and nothing. We pushed the machine around to centre it more accurately on where the engineer had done the testing. Click, bang, bang push. In came the second drill. I went for a quick glass of water but got yelled at and went back to my spot. Click, bang, bang pull. Out came the first drill, 60 meters and nothing.

It was sweltering hot at 12:00 and thanks God we stopped for lunch on time. Lunch was always provided by the Geocara which meant it was better than what any of us could do at home. This time it was pasta bolognese. I almost cried. I hadn't had meat for months and I wanted this moment to never end. And just like that lunch was over.

Click, bang, bang push. In came the third drill out comes the third drill, 70 meters and nothing. The residents of the building at now getting nervous. What if we can't find any and we've paid all this money? Click, bang, bang push. In came the fourth drill out comes the fourth drill, 80 meters and nothing. No stopping for coffee, not until we find it. Click, bang, bang push. In came the fifth drill out comes the fifth drill, 90 meters and nothing. An old lady starts to cry, she's spent all of he remaining savings on this. Click, bang, bang push. In came the sixth drill out comes the sixth drill, 100 meters and nothing. We haven't stopped working, my body is tiered, my boss is angry. Click, bang, bang push. In came the seventh drill out comes the seventh drill, 120 meters and nothing. We've hit the base and can't drill anymore.

The neighbours complain while we lie on our backs exhausted from all the hard work. The pasta has evaporated, we're feeling dizzy by the lack of water breaks and heatstroke and my boss os trying to calm them down. Suddenly a whizz. A rush of air coming from the seventh hole we've just drilled. I sit up and ask everyone to shut up. The don't but I ask less politely. They don't again and I take out my gun, they all scream and whimper as they all do but they shut up.

The rush is coming from within, a get closer and BURST! water comes rushing from the whole up into our dry world like a marvellous gazer of life. The neighbours burst into shouts of joy. The boys get up and quickly take their spots, we tame the gazer and install the new pump and tank that will now supply this building, and this building alone, with running water. That must feel amazing, having water whenever you need it, however you need it. Clean water not frowsty water. It seems simple but only 26% of the whole country gets water actually running from their taps, so what seems simple to you, for us is now a miracle.

We finish the tank and the neighbours gather to oversee and thank us. I see their happy faces and smile. We pack up or gear and head for the door and right before we leave I whip out my gun and politely ask for a...donation for the boys who've worked today. One openly defies me so I hit him in the head with the bottom of my gun. The rest of the neighbours scared but quickly give me whatever they have in their pockets. It's enough. When the it's the old lady's turn I ask her to keep hers, she's had enough trouble for one day and the last thing I want of her dying on me of a heart attack. Bad juju to have a grannies blood on your hands.