The pastel-colored sky provided a perfect backdrop for the stars to slowly settle down upon. The orange hues bled into the red as the day fell into the night. It was an early sunset, thanks to the nearing winter solstice. The sky was magnificent and invoked a sense of serenity and peace that only a firetruck and its personnel can evoke.
Their presence was a welcoming addition to the menagerie of chaos that began earlier in the day. Their presence somehow soothed and comforted the weary soul. Their equipment satisfied my newfound insatiable appetite for safety that this near-death experience unearthed.
My anxiety was uncontrolled when they were assessing me in the ambulance. My blood pressure was elevated as well as my heart rate. Essentially, my body was running a marathon inside of me. I sustained some minor chemical burns on my face. It took a few weeks for the red blotches to disappear, but it was only a minor inconvenience compared to what continued to ensue.
For a while, I was concerned there was a curse on me. Each day something new and nefarious consumed me — no, make that us. We spent days cleaning the basement. We used countless boxes of baking soda to try to neutralize and clean the basement floors and walls. We set up a negative pressure system in the basement to exhaust all the gases.
Thankfully, it was a mild winter to have the windows open, but it was still hard to breathe with all the powder and dust we were pushing around.
The dust made us thirsty. But something peculiar happened to the water, in the water glasses …
Understanding that sometimes the water from our softener, especially in the winter, can have a little more iron in it, it’s not unreasonable that the water tasted a little funny. But the taste only got worse.
I regenerated it several times, and the water became more opaque. In fact, just like a bad magic trick, it would change colors right before your eyes — a mixture of yellow and green erupting from nowhere.
I tried not to use the water, but in the middle of the night when I was thirsty, I poured myself a glass. Eventually, I regretted that decision, but not before I had a second glass.
The film in my mouth was indescribable and the taste … well, I’m not sure the open sewers in Iraq would come close or not. Something was wrong. But what?
I went downstairs, exhausted from the daily onslaught of disasters, but this time, something was wrong with the water.
When I opened the softener, I could see that there was a bridge of salt, but that didn’t explain the color of the water. I began excavating the salt, little by little. At some point, I found mouse droppings. But eventually, I found the mouse in the softener tank.
I immediately felt sick to my stomach. How long were we drinking dirty-infested mouse water? What do I do now?
To be continued.
