Creus(Full Book)

Part 24

He woke up from his daze and watched the sun turn the sky purple and azure. Bernard had gone inside, and the old man up the stairs. He had wasted time again, sitting in a chair doing nothing, but there seemed nothing to do. Not for a while, years maybe, sitting in this chair and watching them pull in grey logs of meat. At home forever and ever.

Bernard sat in a chair far away from him, watching Osmond fish and fish for more fish. Watching Osmond wade out with the net, and catch more fish. If their food ran out and they were forced to eat fish, then he would try climbing out of the Abyss, but until then...

Bernard got out of the chair quickly. Running out of the doorway and to Osmond. David looked at Bernard and stood up. Walking out of the doorway and to what Bernard had seen.

"Osmond!", Bernard shouted and ran to the pond. Osmond had left his net and line behind, walking straight into the murk of the pond. Into the pits where monstrosities swam. Jagged teeth-baring out in jaws. Osmond could be sinking deeper into the pond. Where light didn't shine, and water was the ground, the sky, and the air.

To be there suddenly. In the darkness and cold, where water surrounded everything and things lived underneath the surface. Bernard had dived into the pond already. He saw the water lap up waves onto the rock and Bernard reach out a hand. David walked to reach his own hand out. But, Bernard sank again, and David couldn't see him. He reached out his hand, hesitant to touch the water, but reaching a finger in. Bernard caught his thumb and David gasped in pain. Reaching his other hand, and grasping the hand, and pulling. Pulling with effort as he struggled to pull Bernard and Osmond up. He saw a head emerge and feet grasp onto the rock. He almost let go but continued to pull them up as water fell like wax off them. They climbed up, and the old man ran out of the house.

Bernard gushed water from his lips. Osmond wheezed and murmured something through veined eyes. Sputtering water and spittle, Osmond looked up.

"Water, from the pump", Osmond shivered, "Get me water."

"Only water from the jars'', The old man said, "When there's water in the pumps, then you will get your water. But for now, water from the jars."

The old man made a small smile at him.

"Get me the water", Osmond reached a shaking hand, "Please, just get me the water!"

"But, there's no water. I can't get water from the pumps, just the jars."

Osmond wobbled and looked at the old man.

"Manuel, get me the water, just please get me the water."

The old man stepped back.

"Get me the water!"

The old man, David realized, the old man and the water. He tainted it with something to keep them there. The glass jars were regular water and the pump was tainted with sugar or honey. Oozing from the pump and glowing blue.

"Please!", Osmond shouted. Osmond hobbled to the pump and rattled the handle, over and over again. It dripped some out and Osmond grasped it in his hand. Sipping it, then rattling the handle again. But, not a drop came out. No elixir of life for Osmond anymore. The glass jars would suffice as mud would to honey. He needed more of that water, too. Not anymore of the glass jars. Tainted with poison. The water wasn't tainted. The thoughts weren't true. He needed more of that water, the delicious, blue, purified liquid. Needed more. Delicious, it was. To rattle the handle, and he scrambled over to the pump. Pumping his arms up and down to grasp a droplet and sip it. The sugar, the wine, the honey, the great liquid. David's infinite thirst quenched forever after he drank it. No avail, though. No water from the pump. Coughing up dust from metal lungs.