It was a quiet Friday evening. Barb and I had finished dinner, washed the dishes, and were getting ready for an hour or two of quality TV time when Barb got a text from a neighbor a few streets away.

“It looks like there is a water leak across the street from our house. The grass is soaking and water is running into the street.”

Barb snapped into action. She put on her invisible Home Owners Association President ball cap, grabbed our high-powered LED flashlight, and asked me if I wanted to join her. With all thoughts of the White Sox-Guardians game banished from my brain, I led the way to the car, and off we went.

Our neighbor and her husband were waiting for us at the scene of the slime. The grass in the parkway was glistening and the street contained a rivulet of rapidly flowing water heading for the storm sewer. Barb, well-versed in similar matters, hit the Police Non-Emergency number in her contact list and we began to wait.

In the gloaming, the source of the water wasn’t clearly visible. Barb switched on the flashlight for better illumination and then the four of us saw it. A great hump arose from the parkway grass. The new addition to the neighborhood was 3 feet long, 3 feet wide, and a foot-and-a-half high. Water oozed from its surfaces before running to the street.

“What is that,” I uttered as I boldly walked where no man, or woman, had gone before. The ground felt squishier and squishier with each step I took. Mud sucked at my shoes. Finally, as I reached the crest of the mound, I felt the ground open beneath my foot. Down my leg went. Someone cried out and I had a vision of being tugged to the Stranger Things Upside Down alternate reality.

In a panic, I flashed back to a raft trip on the Colorado river. When my son Michael and I fell into the roaring rapids, our guide Olga reached down, grabbed one of us under each of her mighty arms, and pulled us to the safety of the raft.

My thoughts quickly returned to the present. I looked around and this time there was no Olga to save me. I was on my own. I gave a mighty heave, extricated my leg from the muck, and stumbled off the hump. An Old Faithfulish geyser burst from the hole my leg had created. Just as the police, responding to Barb’s earlier call arrived on the scene.

The professionals took over. By Saturday afternoon a deep trench had been excavated and the source of the leak was isolated and repaired. A boil order remained in place for 24 hours for the affected block. My sneakers began to dry out, and my jeans came out of the wash looking bright and fresh.

The rest of our weekend was great, filled with food, friends, and family. I even solved Sunday’s Wordle in two guesses. But from now on, when Barb goes on her Homeowners Association damage control excursions, I’ll just hold the flashlight. No more adventures for me!

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