BLOOD OF THE SPRINGTIDE (PART III)

David shifted down gear, pushed the handlebars forward and let the seat slide under his butt as he turned into the uphill stretch. His lean tanned arms stretched forward as his hands gripped the bottom angle of the drop handlebars and, bending his head forward, his eyes focused on the road directly before him. He climbed, sweating, his legs churning the pedals. He smiled, imagining his poor BMX buddies trying to climb this hill on their inadequate bikes. Finally he made it to the cul-de-sac that ended any further paved roadway into the hills. He dismounted, breathing a bit heavily, and began walking his bike onto the lawn of a house situated at its far end. There never seemed to be anyone home when the boys came through here. They could be out, or reclusive, it was hard to say. Never a car, drapes always drawn, eerie silence.

He walked hurriedly through the gateless yard, as he passed the house he could not help but feel he was being watched. Looking up at the house immediately he could have sworn that a drape moved. He quickened his pace past the shed that marked the end of the home’s property: one could tell by the line separating where the grass was kept low from where it sprouted wildly in an abrupt manner. An odd feeling of deep apprehension overcame him, and he almost turned around to go home but decided it was his imagination and continued on. About thirty yards further, through the pine and fir trees, to where the cement lined “stream” slowly cascaded downhill toward the nearby reservoir. The man-made waterway was sunken into the hill, flowing on a cement pathway where the water ran only, at most, about two feet deep. He walked his bike along its grass lined edge a good distance uphill until he came to the broad archway built into its side. Sweat poured down his face as the sun beat on his skin. He let his bike drop to the soft grass, took off his shirt and used it to wipe the sweat from his face before laying it out upon his handlebars. Flicked off his sneakers, took off his socks and draped them on his bike, put his Keds back on, pulled up his shorts, and then jumped down into the “stream”.

From the vantage point of the waterway he could see within the archway to the pool underneath. There, the water was made to collect as it poured out of the underground tunnel beneath the hills, through a slightly rusted gate, into a walled area about four feet deep. About three and a half feet up on the front wall was a ledge about two feet wide that allowed the water to slowly spill out onto the small canal. There it went upon its journey toward the reservoir. David ran up toward the wall and leaped over, using his hands and arms upon the dam to brace his jump, into the pool. Cool, wet, relief literally washed over him. He dunked his head beneath the water and swam a moment underneath it, holding his breath. He surfaced feeling refreshed and splashed around for a time. Eventually he noticed something odd about the gate and swam over to investigate.

The gate, covering the entry to a tunnel that was built above the pool upon a concrete ledge, had an access door built on hinges so that maintenance crews could enter the aqueduct. It usually had a chain with an enormous padlock on it that kept it sealed off from intruders. He knew this because he and the boys had wanted to go investigating within the “cavern” the last time they were here. Today, the lock and chain were missing, nowhere to be seen. David climbed up upon the ledge and searched in the water around the door and found no sign of it, then he stood up, took a bar of the gate door within his grip and began to pull it open.

“Boo!”

David spun around in startled confusion, his back crashing into the gate and feet slipping off the ledge, to see Tim laughing at him from a few feet over. Rafael and Aaron were a further ways out standing on the outer ledge of the pool, laughing hysterically at their frightened friend.

“Did you see him jump?” Tim shouted back.

“Yeah, like a frightened little jackrabbit.” Aaron answered between guffaws.

“That’s what you get, ese.” Rafael tucked his longish black hair behind his ears. “You shoulda stayed with the gang.” He laughed some more and then dove underwater, surfaced and began swimming toward the gate.

David straightened himself. “Nice Tim. Thank you, guys.”

“Ah, just having a little fun at your expense.” Tim smiled and patted David on the back. His eyes widened then as he noticed that the lock and chain were no longer binding the door. “Wow, son, did you get the lock off the door?”