The Well Digger Returns

 

About six weeks ago, the spring box ran dry up at the cabin.  A few days later, the local dowser arrived to search for water with his brass divining rods.

After some consideration, he stuck a small red flag in the ground and sent me off to get a permit to dig from the Franklin County Health Department.

And then all the spring boxes in the county seemed to run dry. 

Finally, today, our number came up and Skeeter and his son arrived to drill for water.

I had to work, so Mertis volunteered to run up and document the big event.

Back in town I anxiously awaited word, praying they wouldn't have to go too far down- after all, well diggers charge by the foot.

After 40' they hit water but it wasn't below the bedrock, so they kept on.  "The soil's too sandy," Mert said, calling from the front yard of the cabin.

"Does he think he can make it work over there?" I asked.

"What? I can't hear you.  It's loud as hell out here!" she said. "I'll call you back when they stop."

I didn't hear from her for the rest of the day.

 

They dug 300' before they hit water again and there are still problems.  "It was so loud," Mert said, "And I didn't know what they were talking about.  Something about packing or screening the well, then digging a trench across the road and hooking it up to the house."

"300 feet down?" I echoed, my mental calculator racing into overdrive. "They had to dig 300 feet and they don't even know if it's going to work?"

Mert looked worn out. Dark circles rimmed her eyes and her shoulders slumped beneath her oversized tee-shirt.

"That's what he told me. And even then, you won't be able to use it until you call one of the companies on this list the health department gave me.  Somebody has to come test the water before you can use it," she said.

 

I stood in the middle of my brick walkway, staring down at a long list of names and numbers, remembering the cartoon Dad used to quote whenever someone questioned his love of sailing.  "A boat is just a hole in the water you pour money into."

I swore I'd never take up sailing- it made me seasick. 

But there I was this evening- staring at pictures of water running out of a hole in the ground and thinking the apple hadn't fallen very far from the tree after all.

 

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