Page 2 of Pond

pond again. Some of them even survived and as to our reckoning they should be total monsters by now.

  We pitched our camp but we did not erect tents we slept on the ground while we camped at our pond. We knew we were not actually sleeping there that night but being prepared, isn’t that what it is all about? We roughed it like cowboys or Voortrekkers did, we were men out here. The sun shone bright and it was about eight in the morning.

  Once our camp was set up we moved to our next priority. Life, Scouts and survival can all be lived according to the following: Please Remember What First (PRWF). Protection, Rescue, Water, Fire. When you are small this meant; Getting your sleeping bag or bedroll down, remembering to tell someone where you went, taking water or boiling it and having a Rambo knife with matches.

  When you are older that changes; you need insurance and retirement annuities for protection, you need friends and family and kids that will talk to you also believe in a God that will eventually rescue you, laugher and memories become the water of life, but to get things fired up you still need a Rambo survival knife although I would suggest one of better quality than the ones we had.

  We started a fire with the lighter that Jaco brought with him. It was bliss listening to the weaver birds in the tall grass next to us, sitting on the gravely beach next to a smoky fire and readying your hand line for fishing, I tell you nothing will ever be better. I haven’t tried cocaine yet but I am sure not even that can compare but as I mentioned I am speaking under correction.

  A few hours passed and we caught nothing but a water turtle and a tin cup full of tadpoles, the turtle, or terrapin I think is the correct term went back into the drink but the tadpoles we boiled on the fire. While lunch was boiling into a gooey stew we swam and jumped into our pond. It was wonderful enjoying what your body could do and each one shouting “look at this!” or “check this out!” before you made a rad or awesome move.

  At about one in the afternoon we drank our broth of tadpoles, carefully measured so that we all got equal parts. That was followed by the tin of sardines; we ate straight from the can all the while saying that the tadpole soup was way better. Then we explored the big trees and climbed like the agile little monkeys we were. For a few hours we tried building a treehouse by lashing sticks to the tree using bendy reeds, it did not work so well and later we tired of this and went back to swimming and fishing even trying to stab fish with our knives. We had no luck that way either. It was not like you could see any fish in the murky water anyway; we were basically screaming things like I feel something next to my foot and then everybody would stab at your foot in an attempt to get the elusive pond bass.

  An incident free hour later, it was about four in the afternoon, we started packing up and then in the distance something caught Jaco’s eye. We saw a worker getting out of a hole. He was a long way off. We waited for him to fade away into the direction of the gravel road and went closer to inspect.

  It was a hand dug pit at the edge of a farm next to its border fence. The well was surrounded by big trees and if you looked down its perfectly straight sides you could see its dark bottom about three meters down. The bottom was dark but it had no water in it. The worker had carried the short ladder he was using with him, so we had no way of getting to the bottom of the hole. The hole was about two by one and a half meter across and from most angles resembled an oversized grave.

  My brother being the voice of reason for the first time ever stated that my parents would be home at about five thirty and that gave us about an hour to get home and if we moved, we could just about make it. Move we did not, we inspected the hole and Jaco said that he wanted to climb down to see where the water was going to be coming from. He held onto my hands and I was on my stomach. His feet were still far from the ground but Jaco said he would make it and let go. He landed with a thud but kids’ being almost indestructible, was okay. He called to me to come and see and it looked cool so I tied the blanket to the metal fence post next to the pit and started down it.

  They say that God has mercy on drunks and small children, and as I thudded onto the hard ground rock on my back, I surely did not think so. There was a massive pain that shot over and out of my left side. Later I would hear that I broke my collarbone, but if I suppose it was a mercy that I did not break my fool neck. I moaned and curled up into a ball for a minute or two before I saw that my brother that was still up top was ghost white and my friend was looking at me and his eyes saying “cowboys do not cry”. That annoyed me, and my brother’s face scared me, so I sat up and said: “so where does the water come from?”

  Jaco did not know where the water came from and as sure as the sun rises in the east the bottom of the well was getting damper and some trickles of water were already collecting in small puddles. It was past the time that our parents would have arrived home and we were going to be in trouble. Big trouble if I knew my mother. Jaco was not that worried his parents have been divorced for about six months and he could do whatever he wanted, two Christmases, two birthday gifts and doing whatever you wanted… divorced kids are so lucky. The only things we are going to get two of were hidings.

  Try as we might we could not reach the blanket hanging down the well even if I stood on Jaco’s shoulders my one arm cradled to my chest. It was very sore and although I did not make a sound tears were continuously rolling down my cheeks.

  With the darkness came the knowledge that this was not going to end well. We decided on our cover story first. A kid will die of cold before getting a few smacks on the butt. If we get out before tomorrow night we are going to tell Jaco’s parents we slept at my house and visa-versa, this sounded like a solid plan. The pit was filling up nicely and we were standing in a foot of water by now. My brother went to the pond and collected a few things that turned out very useful.

  He threw down an old plastic crate and if we sat close to each other our bottoms was just out of the water also an old plastic rubbish bag that we rapped around us. He curled into a ball at the edge of the pit wrapped in the blanked that I had used as a rope. He also made a fire using his last Rambo match as mine was wet and Jaco forgot the lighter in his pocket and it was drowned in our escape attempts. The fire gave light enough so that none of us were too scared.

  That night none of us slept and by morning we were standing hip deep in the water.

  We tried everything to get out but with no success. My kid brother suddenly came up with the best idea ever and went home to go and get a rope so that we could climb out before he lift he tied the blanket to the post again and threw it down to us. Now this I only heard later. There were some things we did not consider that now conspired against us. The previous day was a Friday and none of our parents went to work on a Saturday, not even divorced ones.

  As soon as baby bro arrived at home my parents assumed that we, the bigger kids were being horrible to him and he came back to mommy. She was not even angry at him, she gave him French toast, and it was at this junction that he decided he had enough of us and stayed at home with my parents. He did not want to get in trouble so he just did not tell them about us, the guys in the hole.

  By twilight that night we were clinging to the roots sticking out of the walls to keep above the water. We could no longer stand and there were no fire tonight, so it was dark, the kind of dark you get only in places that does not have cars and streetlamps. We slept standing against the wall tiptoeing on the crate…we did not sleep much. We were so tired and my shoulder was ripping me apart. Earlier we played in a pond and it felt like life, now it was looking like we were going to be dying in a grave shaped pond. The irony slaughters me.

  My face was caked with mud from holding the wall and then rubbing my face and some of it even went into my eyes. As I was struggling to doggy paddle and wash my face Jaco took my hand and pulled me into the corner. My shoulder was screaming and I did almost everything with my good hand. He supported me and in the twilight I could see his face was clean and dirt free. He smiled at me and as he supported me on his o
ne knee he took the edge of the blanked and wiped my face and eyes clean.

  He was such a good friend and if we were going to die I would take it as an honour to die with such a halfwit. I looked at him. He smiled and said, “By morning somebody will come and save us I am sure”. I looked at him with a smile and rapped him on the head.

  Disgusted he said, “I helped you, why are you being like this?” “The blanket, you can reach the blanket” As if I were the slow one he said “I could reach the blanked even before it became dark.” As he said it, it dawned on him.

  The tiredness melted from our cramped and pruned half frozen appendages, but our smiles widened. I went first and Jaco lifted me as best he could. I eventually made it out and turned to see that Jaco was at my heels helped him up with my good hand.

  We packed all our kit and as I slung the pellet gun over my shoulder I thought about what could have happened and what was going to happen, and walking back I considered if drowning would not have been more merciful.

  I