The Water Crib

Stroke………. Stroke………… Stroke………..1

The little boat churned along silently. Only the minimal splashing made from the movement of the ores was audible. Jane leaned back on her weight to help anchor her wobbly arms in a circular fashion. The skyline of the city was as bright as ever behind her. Every third stroke or so she would have the tendency to stop and look, barely catching whim of a few lights before starting again.2

Stroke………. Stroke………… Stroke………..3

She muttered something resembling a curse. She had made good on a lot of stupid ideas in her day, and this one was no exception. She was in the throes of a maddening depression again, but it was the weather that really set her off. Mid-May had to be taken with a grain of salt, a tease that left you yearning for better days that couldn’t come soon enough. It was as if her body was quickening its thaw along with the landscape around her. 4

Row……… Row……… Row………..5

Had she been in a more stable mood, she may have started to sing the nursery rhyme that was creeping up in her mind, but the last thing she wanted to do was start crying. The tears would melt into her face and remain there like permafrost. 6

Gently……… Down ……the…………7

She ceased rowing for a moment and pulled out a cigarette instead. She lay her head back and rest it gently on the edge of the canoe. She let her eyes almost roll back entirely as she tried to focus on the skyscrapers and bright buildings that she had left behind. The lights flickered as if it were a mirage. She sat up suddenly and turned around, rocking the boat wildly.8

Merrily……… Merrily………. Merrily………. 9

After steadying herself, she rubbed her eyes, and looked again. She was far enough away that the beaconing lights were fading and made them wander as if she was seeing them through a plume of smoke. My eyes must be failing me, too, she thought, although she properly assessed the most probable source of the flickering lights. Overhead, there were more airplanes visible than stars and she knew that they routinely dumped remaining gasoline before their final descent. The city disappeared temporarily behind the flame from the lighter as she drew in the nicotine and other potentially fatal chemicals.10

Life………is……….But a……….11

But a dream?, she thought. What the hell does that even mean? Is it, or isn’t it…. a dream? God, no wonder, kids are so confused, she thought. We tell them it’s a dream and then do everything possible to shatter it. She let out a huge sigh that developed into a groan as she arched her back, starting to propel herself forward again. The temperature had dropped and she could see a vapor of her soul escape from her mouth between drags. She envisioned herself falling overboard into the depths of the sea below. 12

My body lies over the ocean………… My body lies over the sea……….13

Ugh, another ridiculous nursery rhyme not ready to vacate her head. She used to sing them to Anabelle in the bath as she would splash and giggle. Jane would get frustrated as she tried to jump out without rinsing off the soap. Although she in no way wanted her family to leave this earth so tragically, she had wished them gone many times in frustration. She used to think that having children was some sort of mistake, a joke; she thought she wasn’t fit for it. But, now here she was, without kids, a husband, or any responsibilities, and still miserable. She wanted to lay silent, maybe she wouldn’t even struggle as her body fell, landing calmly on the clay-like silt below. 14

The sound of droning came closer and closer. It was well past midnight when she had decided to take a walk that eventually led her stealing the loose canoe. Somehow, in the dark, she could still see the luminous structure just off to her right. There were two faint lights attached at the top, penetrating the night. She knew exactly what it was, the Lake Michigan water cribs that pumped fresh water to the city’s millions of inhabitants. 15

It was much bigger than she had thought; it had always only looked like a blip on the horizon. It was actually almost five or six stories in height. She tied her rickety boat to the base and began to climb it. The rust crumbled away in her grip. She arrived at the top, large enough to land a small airplane. The city looked perfect and inviting. She had never seen it from this view, only in pictures. There was the Sears Tower, Aon Center, John Hancock building, and even the Smurfit-Stone Building, the heavily scrutinized one that looked like a diamond and was criticized for being too feminine. The view was astounding. 16

She lay down, using an extra sweatshirt as a pillow and tried to sleep. The muscles in her arms burned and she wondered if she could even make it to the other side. She could see Indiana, but Michigan was far beyond the periphery. For the night, she would let the water crib nurture her the way a mother would. She was comforted in the knowledge that a piece of her existence would enter every faucet in Chicago tomorrow morning.17