All for a Drink of Water

Everyone knows the taste of that first sip of water after a hard days work in the hot sun. Collin knows he has a water bottle in his fridge with ice cold water. If he could just get to it...

All for a Drink of Water

Collin heaved the last of the branches into the wheelbarrow and hauled them off to the dumpster. He felt tired and sweaty but accomplished as the hot sun burned his back. He could feel the sweat sticking to his body and making his clothes lay uncomfortably around his chest and legs. He thought of that water bottle in the fridge and how good it will feel to gulp down all of it; he didn’t even care if he got a brain freeze from it.

As he heaved the heavy branches into the dumpster, he heard a scream from the little girl at the end of the block. Ignoring the taste of his sweat, he ran over to her. She was in the yard, crying over a pile of stuffing under the tree. He kneeled beside her and asked what was wrong. “Lady destroyed my doll!” She screamed pointing at a puppy who was still chewing on some stuffing. “Alright,” Collin said patiently. He snatched the deflated doll and all her stuffing from the puppy, stuffed her back up and found he had just enough string from his waist seam to get the sewing mostly done. Then he presented the doll to the girl, holding the side of her head closed. “If mom has some more thread, she’ll be as good as new,” he said smiling and waiting for the sparkle he was sure would shine from the girl’s eyes. Instead, he got more tears. She grabbed the mostly mended doll by the stomach, ripping it out of his hands and undoing the sewing job, causing all the stuffing to fly out as she ran into the house. Collin stood up and realized how sore his lower back was. He was looking forward to that drink of water and a shower.

He didn’t let the little girl’s reaction bother him as he walked back to his house. After all, she was just a kid and he wasn’t necessarily close to the family anyway. As he walked to the recently refurbished gate he had put in just yesterday, he waved to his neighbor across the street. Her name was Mrs. Addington and she was at least 70 years old. Her husband had passed away recently, and Collin had gathered told her to call him if she needed anything. She waved at him to come over as she sat on her porch; Collin hesitated. He looked back at his halfway renovated suburban house with his new refrigerator that housed a water bottle with water so cold he would forget it was mid-July in the mid-western United States. Then he looked back at Mrs. Addington. Whatever she needed probably wouldn’t take too long and maybe she would reward him with a glass of her home-made lemonade. He trotted over to her and felt a gust of wind that made him stop and close his eyes for a blissful moment. “Collin dear,” Mrs. Addington said getting up from her chair. He opened his eyes again. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Addington,” he said politely. “What can I help you with?” The old woman sat back down. “The drain is clogged again and its starting to smell,” she said as he came up the porch. She had a glass of lemonade next to her that was half full. He saw the beads of condensation on the side of the glass and he could taste the tang and sweet juice running down his throat already. The ice cubes clanked together as they slowly melted.

“Collin?” she said moving her head in the way of the glass. Collin snapped out of his trance. “No problem!” he said enthusiastically. He had redone the whole plumbing assembly in his house using Mr. Addington’s tools and help. He had loved that man like the grandfather he never met. So naturally, he knew where all the tools were to get this job done. In truth, she needed the kitchen skink drain unclogged every other month or so because she always forgot she didn’t have a garbage disposal. Collin grabbed the tool bag, got down on his knees and held his breath.

Once everything dumped out of Mrs. Addington’s drain and Collin threw it out, trying not to gag at the concoction of past expired food, he went back onto the porch where the old woman was still sitting. She had the glass of lemonade in her hand, gulping it down and making the wrinkles on her neck dance. She smacked her lips and set the now empty glass on the side table next to her. “All done,” he said happily. She smiled at him. “You are such a big help to me,” she said gratefully. “Would I be able to get a glass of lemonade after I put the tools away?” Collin asked, feeling like a teenager as the words came out of his mouth. “Sorry dear,” Mrs. Addington said sitting back in her lounge chair and closing her eyes. “That was the last drop I had.” Collin felt annoyed now. He wanted to say something, but what would it be? She was older and had just lost her husband a few months ago. He decided he wouldn’t push her. “Oh alright. Thanks anyway. I’ll go put the tools away.”

After spending more time than he wanted on organizing the tool bag at Mrs. Addington’s, he walked back over to his gate, swung it open and stepped onto the walkway. He was almost to the porch when he heard a honk, a scream and then a line of cussing through a female voice as dirt was kicked up from up the street. He groaned and turned away from his porch.

A car had hit a bicyclist, pushing her off into the dirt and breaking her leg. The driver and another man, named Walt, were in the ditch, surrounding the woman and yelling at each other as she held her leg. Collin saw the blood dripping from a gapping wound and sprinted toward the group. He pushed both men aside and looked at the woman’s leg. “Hi, I’m Collin, I’m a doctor. What happened?” he said sweetly as he looked at her leg. Her bones were split in a gaping wound with blood covering the pieces, the rest of her leg and the grass underneath her. Her face was red and she was looking at the gash in her leg like it was a broken piece of machinery she couldn’t fix. Then she looked up at Collin. “This idiot…ran into me and I fell. Do you see the blood coming out!” She was angry, and understandably too. Collin ordered Walt to grab his first aid kit with antiseptic cream and bandages and then he told the driver to grab anything that could soak up the blood.

Once he had the minimal materials from the two clueless men, he stopped the bleeding, bandaged the woman up and let his hospital know she was coming. “I’ll take her,” the driver said with a new-found guilt in his voice. She smiled up at him. “Thank you,” she said. Collin picked her up and set her in the seat of the car that had initially hit her off her bike. “They’ll be expecting you,” Collin said wiping her blood off from his hands. “Thanks,” she said grabbing at the handle and closing the door. The driver got in the other side. He said something to her, she threw her head back laughing and then hit his shoulder flirtatiously. They drove off and Collin smiled, thinking they would make a cute couple.

He thanked Walt for his help and then limped back to his house. Picking up the woman had done a number on his back and now he was desperate for some water and a nice relaxing time on his couch. He finally made it to the porch this time and grabbed the door handle. Before he could turn it all the way, a voice shouted at him from the street. Bob Marsh, arguably the largest man on the block, was running toward him as fast as he could go. Collin bowed his head and figured he should stop him before the man had a heart attack.

Collin walked swiftly toward Bob, yelling for him to slow down. His head was pounding as he looked both ways before crossing the street. He wished he’d grabbed his sunglasses from the porch. “They said…to get the…neighborhood watch…leader,” Bob panted. “What happened?” Collin said, feeling his adrenaline spike for the third time that day. “The…Johnson kid was…taken out of the front yard,” Bob said pointing arbitrarily behind him. “Rebecca doesn’t know what happened, but she says she heard tires peel out of her driveway and then she couldn’t find her son anywhere.”

Bob led the way lazily over to the Johnson’s house. Rebecca Johnson was in the front yard, crying to the police about her baby being kidnapped. Her husband was walking over and Collin could tell they were close to a fight. “He was playing with his sister, but she didn’t even see the man. They just grabbed my son right out of my front yard, how can you people do your jobs so poorly?” The officer nodded, only pretending to listen to her as he jotted his notes. “We’re on the lookout ma’am,” he said dully. “Officer,” Collin said clearing his throat. He was beyond parched now. “There’s a man I’ve noticed driving between my house which is just up the road and this cul-de-sac. He doesn’t seem to live here, but he drives a blue Dodge Durango and I have his plates written down in my phone if you want to check him out.” The officer nodded and took the number from Collin while Rebecca stared daggers into the side of his head. “You knew this monster was out there and you didn’t say anything?” You’re the watch leader!” Her red hair was coming out of the messy bun and her makeup was running away with her tears. “I didn’t want to assume, so I took every precaution I thought was necessary,” Collin said logically. Rebecca looked at him like he was an accomplice in her son’s kidnapping and then went back to her husband and daughter.  

The kidnapper was confirmed with the plate number Collin had provided and because he had documented the person’s habits the police needed him to give them extensive details. After hours of re-living every detail of Collin’s note taking, it was confirmed that the kidnapper was also an escaped convict. Law enforcement had been after him for months and now they contacted the local news crew to get the word out about the missing child. Collin talked to reporters and police officers and was even asked to appear on TV to identify the man.

As the sun started to get low in the sky, they had reports of finding the vehicle with the boy left inside. Police searched the surrounding areas and found the convict checking in at a nearby hotel. Everyone cheered, and Rebecca and her family were escorted to the city to be reunited with their son. Collin breathed a sigh of relief. His head was pounding now, and he was beginning to identify signs of heat stroke throughout his entire body. It was dusk now and he was more than ready for water, dinner, a quick read of his book and finally bed.

He opened the gate, walked up the walkway, opened his door and walked through to the kitchen where his fridge sat there glowing like the life source it was. He opened the door and grabbed the blue water bottle he had been picturing perfectly all day. He walked over to the dinning table, opened the window and popped the lid open. Before he could take a sip, the clouds crackled and began to go from a navy blue to a fiery orange and red, like the sun was getting up early. He walked out the door and into the front yard, swaying like he was on drugs. He saw Walt and Bob running toward him as large clumps of something started falling from the sky in the next neighborhood over. “Collin!” Walt said making it to the gate faster than Bob. “It’s all over the news! They’re saying it’s the end of times and we’re going to go out the same way the dinosaurs did! We have to let everyone know!” He waited for Collin to tell him what to do, but the dehydrated and exhausted doctor just stared at him blankly. “I’m gonna call it a night guys,” he said. He realized how negative his whole day had been and how little the people had cared for his needs. He knew if the end of the world was coming, the hospital would still be packed. He made his decision. He waved at Walt and Bob, went into his house, closed his kitchen window as the meteors came closer to their neighborhood and brought the water bottle to his lips, feeling the cold magnificence flow down his throat.    

Author's Note

grammar, flow of story, enjoyment of story