Unexpected All-Nighter
I crawl out of bed, take a few small steps, and then my already frigid toe plants on something icy. I take another step and get the same response. The coolness rushes from my five toes up to my brain. I immediately run upstairs to the southeast corner and open the door. "Dad, I think the basement might be flooding!"
With a small shudder, each of my parents is up and moving. I shiver, because I know what kind of hectic night lies ahead for my family and me. We all rush downstairs, flicking on lights as we go, until we are back at the "scene of the crime." Water is slowly inching its way out of our normally helpful drain.
I stop to listen for a second and hear the sound of rain pounding on the roof. The sump pump is gurgling, and I snap back into action without another thought. My mom and I begin organizing the platform, replacing a little girl's doll heaven with the essentials. The books are taken from the bookcase, the television is pushed further away from the water.
I rush back into the other room only long enough to watch the water taunt my father. It goes down for one minute, and then pushes up harder for two more. We are not making any progress. I know what we have to do now. It's time to call in the recruits. I push myself up the stairs and sprint to the Southwest corner, flicking on the light in record time. "Bethany, Sierra. Get up. We're flooding!"
It's like I hit rewind and begin to watch everything occur again. We three girls fly down the stairs and around the corner to assess the newfound damage. Finally, my mother takes charge. "Melanie, go call your uncle. Sierra, climb up onto the platform. Bethany, start handing me boxes."
I stand still and watch as everyone goes to work, packing things that I have never seen before into numerous boxes. They pile them up and repeat the process. I climb the stairs efficiently grab the gleaming white connection to help. I dial each number precisely. Brring... pause... Brring... pause... Brring... pause... My heart is pounding, and I am getting anxious. After what feels like an eternity, I hear a muffled, groggy voice on the other end. I explain to my aunt in a jumble of words the disaster that is occurring beneath me. To my relief, she calmly reassures me that my uncle is on his way.
I inform my family of this and begin the grueling process of taking almost everything we own upstairs. Lifting books, more boxes, and shelves, we set up an assembly line. Up three stairs, pass it to another person, down three stairs, reach for more stuff. A thought passes through my mind unexpectedly as I make another trip upstairs. It's sad when you're only fifteen years old and you already have the flood drill memorized.
The disturbing stench of sewer water hits my nostrils as I trek down the stairs for another load. After another hour, I am finally back in my bed (this time upstairs) trying to push out all of the images of this epic night. I am almost into a light sleep when I feel a tap on my arm. "Melanie, wake up. It's time for your first cross country practice."
With a small shudder, each of my parents is up and moving. I shiver, because I know what kind of hectic night lies ahead for my family and me. We all rush downstairs, flicking on lights as we go, until we are back at the "scene of the crime." Water is slowly inching its way out of our normally helpful drain.
I stop to listen for a second and hear the sound of rain pounding on the roof. The sump pump is gurgling, and I snap back into action without another thought. My mom and I begin organizing the platform, replacing a little girl's doll heaven with the essentials. The books are taken from the bookcase, the television is pushed further away from the water.
I rush back into the other room only long enough to watch the water taunt my father. It goes down for one minute, and then pushes up harder for two more. We are not making any progress. I know what we have to do now. It's time to call in the recruits. I push myself up the stairs and sprint to the Southwest corner, flicking on the light in record time. "Bethany, Sierra. Get up. We're flooding!"
It's like I hit rewind and begin to watch everything occur again. We three girls fly down the stairs and around the corner to assess the newfound damage. Finally, my mother takes charge. "Melanie, go call your uncle. Sierra, climb up onto the platform. Bethany, start handing me boxes."
I stand still and watch as everyone goes to work, packing things that I have never seen before into numerous boxes. They pile them up and repeat the process. I climb the stairs efficiently grab the gleaming white connection to help. I dial each number precisely. Brring... pause... Brring... pause... Brring... pause... My heart is pounding, and I am getting anxious. After what feels like an eternity, I hear a muffled, groggy voice on the other end. I explain to my aunt in a jumble of words the disaster that is occurring beneath me. To my relief, she calmly reassures me that my uncle is on his way.
I inform my family of this and begin the grueling process of taking almost everything we own upstairs. Lifting books, more boxes, and shelves, we set up an assembly line. Up three stairs, pass it to another person, down three stairs, reach for more stuff. A thought passes through my mind unexpectedly as I make another trip upstairs. It's sad when you're only fifteen years old and you already have the flood drill memorized.
The disturbing stench of sewer water hits my nostrils as I trek down the stairs for another load. After another hour, I am finally back in my bed (this time upstairs) trying to push out all of the images of this epic night. I am almost into a light sleep when I feel a tap on my arm. "Melanie, wake up. It's time for your first cross country practice."
Comments
Post a Comment