The Flood
With darkness devouring us from every direction, the night consumed everything in its path. The rains came in from the West, heavy and breathless in their freefall to Earth.
This is the tale of two vans.
9:30 pm – They leave Guadalajara Mexican Restaurant, home of the "Best Margarita in Indianola*." Of course, the bread-and-butter of Alternative Breaks is its mission to complete volunteer work without drugs or alcohol. As such, this "best margarita" claim may remain a mystery for decades to come. But a 100% approval rate in a 3,000-person town ain't nothin' to front at, nahmean.
9:40 pm – The Van and the Suburban battle through pounding rain that cuts visibility to a few hundred feet and increases everyone's blood pressure/sense of adventure by a few beats per minute. Each mammoth lightning strike illuminates the surrounding fields for a split second and they notice that these fields am become a lake, destroyer of socks. . Cars speed past and spray jets of water from their path, painting the Van and Suburban with sudsy rainwater. The wheels are white-knuckled. Just fifteen miles until home.
9:45 pm – The Van stops for gas and urination about ten minutes from the house, breaking up the group and setting the scene for two very different endings. The rain continues unabated in its malicious goal to make everything dry wet and everything wet wetter. The Van's occupants remain unworried, marveling at the flashbulb sky from inside the tinted windows. Drake blares on the stereo, but hold on, they are not going home…
9:55pm – The Suburban approaches the house. It's been a weary, grueling week for everyone and they all agree: it's time for a gosh-darn dance-off. Someone flicks open an iPhone and suddenly the opening synths of Psy's seminal hit "Gangnam Style" overtake the stuffy vehicle.
9:55 pm – Meanwhile, the water laps at the curbs as the Van trundles down Park Avenue, the main/only drag of Drew, Mississippi. A few antiquated houses line the road. An abandoned Supervalu [sic] looks on forlornly and a derelict gas pump sits with its LED screen lighting the darkness, waiting for a customer that will never come. The occupants of the Van spot flood waters a few inches high in the intersection ahead and a decision is made. They search for a detour through the unknown, darkened sidestreets, unknown and darkened sidestreets that prove to be just as swamped as the main drag. And so the Van swings around, headed back to the pond formerly known as an intersection. All the while, raindrops that could destroy the world's smallest anthills twiceover continue to fall, and sharp lightning continuously flashes through the pitch-black sky. The abyss waits.
9:57 pm – OPPA GANGNAM STYLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
9:58 pm – After some deliberation, the Van decides to "ford" the intersection. Ha ha ha. Just kidding, it was a Chrysler. The vessel cuts through the water like a sledgehammer through butter, like a sledgehammer through "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter," like a sledgehammer through "Is It Butter Or Not? We Have Been Discussing This For Two Hours. Please, Mom, Just Let Me Eat My Toast Already. I'm Late For School." Waves from passing cars rock the Van and dirty, mucky water surrounds for what seems like miles. Suddenly, all forward progress stops, the lights blink out and the engine dies. The key is nervously wrenched once, twice, three times in the ignition. Nothing but the pitter-patter of rain fills the silence. It's all over.
9:58 pm – HEYYYYYY SEXY LADAYYYYYYY!!!!!! OH OH OH OHOH OPPA GANGNAM STYLE!
9:59 pm –
- "The engine is flooded."
- "The engine is flooded?!"
- "Yeah, see? The van won't start."
- "Wait so that means there's too much water in the engine so it won't turn over… hold on then, what do we do? How do we get home?"
- "What if we have to abandon the van?? Are we still going home tomorrow? Oh my god the engine is flooded! We're STUCK HERE?!?"
- "Honestly, I see us sleeping in this car tonight."
- "No, no, no. No. Don't say that, don't say that. We're getting out of here, I'll SWIM BACK if I need to."
- "Can anyone tell how high the water is?"
- " I'd say probably six inches. Half the wheel well. Oh man…"
- "Can we push it? That parking lot over there is barely an inch covered."
- "I'll push. Let's get this baby going."
- "So apparently the exhaust pipe is completely underwater. We need to get that dry."
- "So we're stuck."
- "Guys, I don't know if I'm Gumby enough for a FLOOD."
- "SOMEONE CALL BRYAN!"
10:00 pm – *vigorous, synchronized horsey dances* HEY HEY HEY HEYHEYHEY!!! HEYYYY SEXY LAY-
do-do-do-do-do-dododododo Incoming call…. Incoming call….
"Hello?... WHAT? Are you serious? Oh no. Okay, stay there, we're on the way."
10:02 pm – The Van sits idle… dead in the water. But its occupants are restless and filled with nervous energy. A few break out the cameras to document the extraordinary event. Some consult the insurance form, keying the number for Enterprise into their phones. Others talk about how this will actually be a really good story so it's not all bad, right? A pee corner is established. They sit, wait, and wish, longing for home, for salvation, for warmth. The rain falls harder.
10:10 pm – The mighty Suburban pulls up and it's Hero Time. Pant legs are rolled up, shoes are tossed aside, expletives are yelled. The water reaches everyone's knees. Tyler the Hulk carries the ladies in fancy shoes and dress across the turbulent water to the SS Suburban. Patrick the Air Force Veteran operates with surgical precision. Rocks in the street give everyone big ouchies, but the protagonists remain persistent. The Van is pushed to higher terrain, the great parking lot just upstream. Then AAA calls back, informing the lovable band of misfits that nobody is coming to fix their precious Van. The water is too deep, they say. You're on your own, they say. This dooms the valiant, waterlogged Van to a night in downtown Drew. Everyone packs into the Suburban, taking one last look at the Chrysler before swiveling and eagerly anticipating the warm beds of home.
The End
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