caelum

Wow, I just had a bit of a scary situation. Like actual fear scary. It has to do with dark and damp enclosed spaces. Namely my crawlspace.

My crawlspace floods constantly. There's some kind of leak in the retaining wall, I don't really care, I don't plan on fixing it cause I'm not going to be living here long. The flooding happens gradually. If I don't drain the crawlspace for a month there'll be a foot of water. Over the months I've bought sump-pumps to deal with it and have replaced them as they've broken down. They shoot the stuff either A) down my driveway, or B) into the main sewer line which I can reach through a pipe in the crawlspace.

The problem with the sewer line is the entrance is ridiculously small, so when the pump tries to force the water through the tiny hole the motor wheezes and groans from the effort. The pump has only one speed or I'd slow it down. Pumping into the sewer line puts a lot of pressure on the inside of the plastic tube, which several months ago found its own way to relieve it when it sprung about forty leaks. I don't care though as most of the water goes in the line and the pressure is relieved.

If I put my ear to the floor vent in my bathroom, I can hear the pump when it runs. I did this about forty minutes ago and heard it running at a constant rate, not in bursts like it should, which means one of two things. A) the crawlspace has flooded above the floating, rubber trigger, which I know it hasn't cause I was down there two days ago; or B) the pump's trigger has been stuck up somehow, most likely because of the cramped hole the pump sits in, and it's run up against the side.

So, hearing it running constantly, I knew that I had to find my rubber boots, flashlight, and go down and fix it. I promptly got these things and headed outside, bidding farewell to the two tiny doggies I'm dog-sitting right now, a chihuahua and pomeranian. They could only guess at the drama that was about to befall me.

I know for a fact that critters visit the crawlspace. I've found tracks down there roughly raccoon-sized, though in the slimy dirt floor I've seen ominously larger marks. Who knows what hangs out down there. But since I'd installed a crude door over the entrance hatch, I'd hoped I'd kept out any unwelcome guests.

Quickly I found the hatch on the side of the house with my flashlight. It's night now and there were no lights along that side of the house. I saw the hatch was shut as I'd left it. Good. Except. . . there was a very curious and out of place detail to the hatch. It was covered in blood.

No, just kidding, it wasn't. Perfectly clean. Anyways, I threw back the hatch and wriggled inside. The crawlspace is about four-feet high so I had to stoop at a ninety-degree angle. I shone the light into the dreary, wet expanse and saw that the water was reasonably low. Some places it was dry and in others a few inches deep. I continued.

I found the pump's pit where it it was wheezing. It sounded much louder down here. The pit is actually around a corner from the hatch, leaving no exit in my line of sight. The only sources of light at the pit two tiny windows at the far end, both sitting low in recessions covered with grass, so you can imagine how much light came through at this time of day.

In the pump's hole, I saw that the hose had tangled in a funny way and propped up the floating trigger, misleading the pump that there was water. I fixed the hose, snagged my foot on something, tripped, and smashed my flashlight onto the joisting above me, hearing its many pieces splash into the water at my feet. I was plunged into complete blackness.

I actually laughed out loud, it was so ridiculous. I couldn't even believe it. Trapped in the dark of my own crawlspace. That was, like, story material. I felt down into the water and found the pieces which were intact. There was the battery, the lens, and the light. The pieces fit together pretty easily, or so I had always thought in the light. In the dark I tried for a minute but couldn't line the bulb part up right, and by now I thought my eyes would have adjusted somewhat, but nope. Still black. Not even the little windows glimmered. Now I see why in the army they train you to put your gun back together in the dark. I tried for another minute and gave up, deciding to just hurry it up and blind-man my way the hell out of that dreary mudhole. Here's where I lost faith in my sense of direction.

I slowly discerned a weak source of light and headed towards it. I half-tripped a few times and once smacked my head against a pipe. I had thought this light was from the hatch, but it was actually one of the tiny windows! Which were on the opposite end of the L shaped crawlspace. I could just barely perceive the window. I decided to use the weak lighting to have another go at the flashlight, to no avail, so I turned back and cautiously headed this time for the hatch. I used my hands to follow the roof and test the blackness for more pipes. The eerie dark was starting to freak me out, getting a little too Blair Witch down there, so I booked it.

About fifteen seconds later I rounded the concrete corner of the crawlspace and saw the hatch blazing away with the light from outside. I casually crawled out feeling anti-climactic.

In the lobby of the house under full lighting I played around for about ten seconds and had the flashlight working. Go figure.