Slowly I Turned…

by Jeff Baker

They had heard the sound from outside, a rushing, steaming kind of noise in the middle of a summer afternoon. Sol Gribbs had stepped out of their house in an older suburb of town to investigate.

When he came back inside he was smiling.

“Fire hydrant,” he said thumbing at the door. “The one on the corner at the intersection. It’s opened up and spewing water down the street.”

“The neighbor kids didn’t do that did they?” Jeanne Gribbs had looked up from the table where she was perusing the newspaper.

“Nah! It was the City Water people,” Sol said. “Not sure why. One of the kids told me.”

“What kids?” Jeanne asked.

“The ones from the neighborhood.” Sol said. “They’re out there jumping in the water and playing. First time I’ve seen them play with something other than those damn cellphones.”

“Their parents should watch them better,” Jeanne said.

“Let’s go out and play in the water!” Sol said.

“You’re crazy!” Jeanne said. “We’re not kids!”

“Let’s play like we did in the summers back in New York City when we were kids,” Sol said.

“That was almost sixty years ago!” Jeanne said.

“I know!” Sol said. “Remember when we used to pretend it was Niagara Falls?”

“Niagara falls…” she said smiling.

“Remember when we went to see the real Niagara Falls?” Sol said grinning broadly.

“Slooooowly I turned…” Jeanne said and the two of them started laughing.

It took the couple five minutes to find their bathing suits. Another two to get down to where the hydrant was still flowing into the street.

They whooped and laughed as they ran and danced through the water.

—end—