Indept. piece #5 -- The water tower

Jack and Ben had been friends for four years until that fateful Sunday afternoon. Ben was born and raised in Arizona. A true native, he had dusty blonde hair with freckles that danced across the bridge of his nose onto his cheeks. His fair complexion was tarnished from years in the burning Midwestern sun, but he never minded. He always fancied himself as a replica of Tom Sawyer in The Adventure of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain, but he never told anyone that. When Ben was 9, Jack moved to his town. His skin was a rich brown with an ebony birth mark on the inside of his arm. Not too many people would talk to him. He was slightly overweight and his family didn’t have much money. However, none of that mattered to Ben.

Quickly, Ben and Jack hit it off. They hung out after class and rode their bikes to the general store every Thursday to buy pop rocks, sometimes Bill Reilly would give them free lemon drops if they promised to do well in school. Jack was always bright in school, after school he’d help Ben with homework. All the teachers enjoyed having Jack in school. He was quiet and obedient. Sometimes late at night, Ben would wish he was as smart as Jack, but it was okay, he didn’t really mind.

Summer was the best time of all. Everybody was out of school. On specifically brutal days the Fire Department would open the hydrants and let the local urchins scamper through the mist. At night, Jack and Ben would climb to the top of the town water tower and reminisce. They would tell tales of dragons and ghosts, monsters and beasts. Nothing really mattered to them. It was summer, it was time to relax. Often on starry nights they would talk about their dreams, how they wanted to make it big in the city; be huge.

Eventually, they grew to love the water tower. They loved the way the moss grew on the outside of the steel walls, the flagrant stale smell of the water, and the red rust caked on the lining. It all held great memories; Ben’s first kiss, Jack’s journey into acceptance of his mother’s death. The water tower loomed over the town. It seemed to be the star of the town. The first thing you noticed as you drove into town and the last thing you thought about as you left. The tower was the idol of the town, in a way it represented the dreams of Ben’s and Jack’s future lives.

One summer day the sun was merciless. It beat down on the town, warning of its force and destruction. Arizona was in the middle of a drought. It hadn’t rained for 3 months so the fire department couldn’t risk opening the hydrants. Ben and Jack climbed to the top of the tower
“You know, we could just pop this lid and swim in here. Its cool and nobody will be able to see us,” said Ben “C’mon, I’ll do it, if you do it.”
“I don’t know. It’s kinda scary and like there’s all that moss and nasty shit in the water.” Jack cautiously explained.
“Wimp, just come with me, it’ll be fine.”
Jack didn’t want to tell the real reason of his hesitation. He felt self conscience. In school it was torture, he didn’t need anymore from Ben. But as always, he gave in and just followed Ben.

Ben kicked open the bolted latch. Jack was right about one thing, there sure was nasty shit in the water. It smelled horrid, but still, it was better than facing the sun’s wrath. They could see the ladder leading down into the water. It disappeared after 40 feet into the engulfing blackness. Ben ushered Jack to go first. Slowly he crept down the ladder. After perhaps, 20 rungs, he just held his breath and jumped into the slimy black water. As he rose to the surface he let out a slight gasp. This was disgusting; he couldn’t do this, no way, no how. “Don’t bother coming down, this is sick. I’m out,” yelled Jack. Ben peered down. It was strange, to Jack; Ben almost looked like he was contemplating something grave. “What? What is it?” bothered Jack.

Ben glowered at Jack. A deviant look crossed his face, he smiled. Ben closed the latch of the tower, locked it, and hopped off the tower on to the railing beneath him. Jack screeched within the tower, his panicked howls were barely audible from outside. Surely, nobody would think of here. Nobody would find him. No, most certainly not.