Page 30 of Time for Change

Just as it always does.

I’m about to set the photograph down when I hear what sounds like a rush of water, like someone just turned on the faucet. Spinning around, I move to the bathroom in the hallway and look around. The sink is off, so I go to the shower and pull back the curtain. When I see no water, I take off for the only other place containing water pipes, and as soon as I step into the kitchen, I see it.

Water on the floor.

“Shit,” I mutter, placing the picture frame down on the counter and reach for the cabinet door. Water is slowly pouring out of the pipe, right at the spot two pieces are connected with what looks like a plastic fitting.

Grabbing a bowl, I slip it inside to catch the running water and look for the shut-off valve along the wall. I remember having a similar issue when I was younger and having to turn the water on and off to the sink because the landlord couldn’t afford someone to come fix the issue. Probably because he wasn’t actually getting any rent from us, so we weren’t a priority. Pretty sure the water company wasn’t getting money either because not too long after, the water was shut off to the trailer.

But I don’t see a shut-off valve.

Knowing I need to call the landlord, I first run back to the bathroom and grab towels. I know the water will start making its way to the apartment below me, if it hasn’t already. Tossing thetowels on the floor, I use every one I have to soak up the mess. Only then do I scramble for my phone to call the landlord.

It rings a few times before he answers. “Hello?”

“Mr. Gunderson, this is Stevie Clement in two-oh-four. I have water running under my kitchen sink and can’t find a shut-off valve.”

“Who?”

“Stevie Clement in two-oh-four.”

“Oh, uh…well, I’m not in town right now. Just put a bucket under it and I’ll take a peek tomorrow afternoon.”

“Tomorrow afternoon? Isn’t there a way to get it looked at sooner? The bowl I have under it is getting full already. Plus, there was a good amount of water on the floor. I was able to use my towels to soak it up, but there’s a chance it ran down to the apartment below me.”

“Yeah, probably. That happens from time to time.”

“Is there a way to shut off the water?”

“Yeah.”

“How?” I ask urgently.

“I’ll have to do it tomorrow. Just keep the bucket under it.”

My mind is spinning. The water is coming out fast enough I’ll have to empty the bowl soon. There’s no way I can keep up with it all night and get any sleep. “I don’t think that’ll work,” I find myself saying. “Maybe I should call a plumber for help?”

“It’s all good. See you tomorrow.” Then, he hangs up, leaving me a bit flabbergasted.

“Shit,” I mutter to myself, placing my cell phone back on the counter.

Think, think, think.

What should I do? I don’t want to call a plumber myself because chances are, the landlord won’t pay for it—I’ll have to. Since it’s after hours, I imagine that bill will be steep. The last thing I want to do is upset Mr. Gunderson by calling in aprofessional and having him throw me out. I don’t know if that would happen, but it’s a risk I’m not willing to take.

I get down and look under the cabinet once more, searching frantically for the shut-off valve. Why isn’t it here? It should be required, right? When I mentioned it, he didn’t seem the least bit fazed by the fact I couldn’t find one.

Now what?

Deciding to go ahead and empty the bowl, I retrieve a second smaller bowl and place it under the pipe. Then, very carefully, I walk the half-filled bowl to the bathroom and dump it into the tub. By the time I’m back in the kitchen, the bowl under the sink is filling rapidly and my heart drops to my stomach. I have to do something.

Retrieving my phone, I consider who to call. Jack is my first choice, but he has his kids. There’s no way I could call him and risk waking one of them up. Plus, it’s not like he can leave to run to my aid. He’d have to find someone to watch his kids or bring them with him, and that’s not acceptable. Any friends I have are still in Roberts, so they’re no help either.

The only other name I can think of has me cringing. I can’t call one of my new bosses, can I? I’ve worked there for a week and helping me with a water issue definitely isn’t in their job description. But my other choice is to call a plumber, and while that’s not my favorite option, it might be my only one. I guess I’ll call Garreth and see if he has any suggestions. If he doesn’t, then I’ll call a professional for help. I may have to make payments on the bill, but I’ll do whatever is necessary. There’s no way I can stay up all night emptying the bowls. Not to mention what the constant running water will do to my next monthly bill.

With a reluctant sigh, I scroll through the handful of contacts I have in my phone and tap the screen for Garreth’s name. He gave me his cell phone number, as well as the one for the business, as a way to get ahold of someone when needed. Idon’t think this constitutes an emergency, since it’s personal, but I don’t have any choice. I place the device against my ear and listen to it ring.

“Stevie? Is everything okay?” he asks in way of greeting.

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