The Fountain

On Tuesday i made the trek from Prince George back down to Seattle. I’d been telling mom how nice the greyhound connection is and figured I’d better give it a go before I bought her a ticket. The trip was largely uneventful, and really quite pleasant, except for an extra hour layover at the border crossing. When our driver turned the bus off, it decided to not turn on again. An hour later, it did. I guess it just needed a nap. 

So, an hour later than expected, I pull into my station and send Sarah a text letting her know I’ve arrived. I’m an hour late, and a little apologetic. She writes back: “I’m going to be late.”

I think: “Really? You e had an extra hour already.”

Then she sends me a picture. 

 

Houses aren’t meant to projectile vomit, afaik. At least her mom instincts were strong and she found a bucket in time. 

The way she tells the story, it just sort of shot off when she tried to turn off the sprinkler. Not knowing what to do, she stuck a finger in the hole and called for Xavier. “Xavier! Go next door and get help!”

“Ok mom!!” he shouted, and ran next door with his urgent mission. A few minutes later he came back, accompanied by the neighbours four year old son. This is the point of regret – we almost got a collie two weeks back. Lassie would have found a plumber. 

Always the opportunist, Xavier runs into the backyard and shouts, “ok mom! I brought help. Open he water!”

Mom was not happy. 

“Mom! Mom! Silas is here to play in the fountain!”

“Silas, can you get your dad?”

“Daddy’s not here.”

I suspect Sarah took that moment to offer the boys a vocabulary lesson. With her finger still blocking the flow of water, Sarah sent both boys back on a second mission. Armed with yet another new word, “emergency”, this time they came back with not one, but two neighbours. No plumber. 

This is when the bucket came out, and the three neighbours scoured our place for a water shut off valve. It’s on the street. However, that’s not common knowledge, so instead the turned on and off and on every dial and switch in the house, jumped into the crawl space and started hunting around underneath the house while simultaneously trying to prevent an underground swimming pool from forming. 

Around this point Sarah hears the pounding of heavy footsteps upstairs, and silence coming from the pipes. “Ok! I’m here!! Where is the emergency? And why are you in the crawl space?”

This is Scott. He’s the daddy next door’s kid had said was missing. He is also the hero of this story.

Scott helped get things back in order, replaced the tap, and turned on all the things that should be on. 

Anyhow, long story short, greyhound has free wifi on this side of the border. I’d travel with them again. 

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