SPRING WATER

It was very dark as I crossed the short field and slipped through the barbed wire fence. The old worn out flashlight I carried was shining but the weak batteries were dimming the light. Ahead of me loomed the Pine forest, marking the way to the old spring. As I eased into the tall Pines, the thick canopy blotted out the stars in the night sky and seemed to make the night even darker. The hair on my head felt like it stood straight up as I eased into the ominous woods and headed down the old wagon trail to the spring.

It was a quiet evening as we sat on the steps in back of our old home in Northwest Arkansas, watching a million stars shine in the night sky. It was one of those rare evenings when Dad was home. Thinking back, it must have been a Saturday evening as he was usually away during the week working in the mountains as a Pipeliner. I was probably 8 years old at the time; still a little afraid of the dark, yet always trying to tell myself I wasn’t. Dad and Mom were sitting together on the steps as I came outside. I can’t remember what was being talked about, but Dad made the comment that he would like to have a fresh cup of coffee. It must have been Mom who said she would make some, but I recall that Dad wanted it made from spring water.

I can’t remember if it was a challenge or not, but I do recall volunteering to go to the spring and bring back a bucket of water. It must have been for a “nickel”, a “dime” or a “quarter”; why else would I have volunteered? I do recall asking if I could take a light. I’m glad he said okay because I would not have been able to go in pitch blackness. There was no way I could save face and stay home, even if I had changed my mind! A real man would do the hard things! I was growing up! So grabbing the flashlight and bucket, I put on my brave face and set out into the night.

I think Mom was worried about my safety while I was gone. Actually, I was worried about my safety, too! The trip to the spring was about a quarter mile. It was covered over with leaves and twigs that fell from the Oak Trees. Somehow I managed to partially fill the bucket in spite of all my goose bumps, raised hair and glancing around in all directions with every noise I heard. I also managed to make it back home without running, tripping or spilling my prized possession.

Mom and Dad were still sitting on the back porch, right where I had left them. I handed Mom the bucket and told them about my adventure, except for the being scared part, of course! After sitting for a moment, I headed off to bed. I doubt if Mom actually made Dad any coffee from that dingy, leaf-filled bucket of fresh spring water. I’m certain the whole adventure was about seeing if I was too scared to go off by myself into the woods at night. I think Dad was impressed that I actually did it!

As my hair began to lie down and the goose bumps go away, I remember being glad to be home, in my own bed.

Mike Thomas