Rescued by a Worm
By Rick Ryckeley
Last weekend a worm rescued The Wife and me. I know that may seem a bit unusual, but so was the worm. He measured only two inches in length an actually rescued us from the bad situation we found ourselves in. But how the cute little squirmer saved us $1,300 is at the end of this story. Here’s the beginning.
Delightful temperatures coupled with low humidity last Saturday created a perfect morning for yours truly to be out in the yard. Listening to The Beatles’ number one hits, I was enjoying watching the squirrels’ incredible acrobatics show as they leapt from one tree limb to the next, chipmunks chasing each other for no reason but playing, and feral cats silently stalking both of them. After a hectic week at work, The Wife was inside enjoying a much-deserved slow morning of coffee and her favorite home improvement redesign shows. Or so I thought. Both of our mornings were about to change.
She came out the basement door and said, “Honey, will you come inside?” I had seen her “come hither” look before. It being only nine o’clock in the morning, it seemed a little early, but it was an invitation nonetheless. I left John, Sir Paul, George, and Ringo serenading the squirrels, chipmunks, and feral cats with “Love Me Do” and followed The Wife inside. Looked like I was about to do some serenading of my own. What she greeted me with was not at all what I expected.
She pointed to the ceiling and asked, “Where do you think that water is coming from?” Special note to readers: There is no good answer to that question. My answer proved that.
Trying to stay calm, Captain Obvious here replied, “Looks like it’s coming from the light fixture. We have a problem.” I’d have immediately called a plumber, but Sir Paul had just started “Let it Be” and it would’ve been rude to interrupt. Instead I said, “Wonder if it’s leaking in the kitchen?” Second note to readers: If water is coming from the ceiling in one room then there’s a good chance it’s also dripping from the ceiling in the adjacent room, and if that room is dark, don’t cut on the lights.
I cut on the lights.
In the half-second before all the lights in the basement shorted out and plunged us into darkness, I noticed the kitchen ceiling light fixture full of water. With so much water around, The Wife and I were about to join The Beatles in their “Yellow Submarine,” so I retrieved my cell phone and placed an emergency call to our local friendly plumber guy. He said he’d be right over, but it would be a minimum of $200 to fix the leak. “Did I know where the water was coming from?” he asked. When I said the ceiling light fixture, he replied, “Whatever you do, don’t cut on the lights.”
Water finds its own level – usually down.
The Wife and I made our way up the basement steps, opened the door to the laundry room, and were greeted by a flood. With water cascading down the carpeted steps, I made a quick phone call to our local friendly carpet-cleaning guy. He could come right out, pull up the waterlogged carpet and padding, hang it all outside to dry, and come back out in a few days to reinstall everything. The cost would be about $200 for the emergency visit on a Saturday.
The washing machine was chugging, chugging, chugging as we sloshed through the laundry room. We were on a mission to find the source of the water, and I was sure I knew what it was. One, or both, of our darling little granddaughters tried to flush something that shouldn’t be flushed down the commode. We have in the past rescued a GI Joe, Blaze from the Paw Patrol, and an assortment of small dinosaurs from a watery demise. We’re still missing five marbles, a couple of matchbox cars and an assortment of hair scrunchies. Not gonna talk about that can of Play-Doh that went missing. Think it may have gotten eaten.
From the laundry room we entered the kitchen and were presented with yet another surprise: an inch of water covering the entire floor! The dishwasher, still running, hummed in the corner and didn’t seem effected by the deluge. As I made my way to the kid’s bathroom, The Wife went to the master. They often take a bath there in the “big” tub. I thought I’d be performing another toilet water rescue on Blaze, but to our surprise, both bathrooms were free of water. We again passed the humming dishwasher and the washing machine going chugga, chugga, chugga, on our way to check the last bathroom upstairs in the bonus room over the garage. That’s where the Icky Teenager resides. What we found there was beyond shocking.
Did we actually spend $200 for a plumber, another $200 for a carpet guy, and yet another $200 for a sheetrock repair guy? And just how did a two-inch worm save us from another flood? Did we spend $1,900 to put tranquility back into our life’s or just $1.39? We called for “Help!” and three out of four doctors agreed what we should do. Did we follow their advice? You don’t have to wait “Eight Days A Week” for the answers. Just seven. Join us here next week for the conclusion of this story.
Until we meet again at this column, whatever you do, if there’s water coming from a ceiling light fixture, don’t cut on the lights. Or you just may “Twist And Shout.”
[Rick Ryckeley has been writing stories since 2001. To read more of Rick’s stories, visit his blog: storiesbyrick.wordpress.com.]
