The Pump

The day had started out fine.  When Ben had flown in from Florida, he had spent the day visiting local rock shops, seeking advice from the owners about the best places to begin his search for agates and geodes.

 

The southwestern deserts were some of best places on earth to search for the semiprecious stones, and since the vast majority of the lands were owned by the government, rock hounds—as Ben thought of himself—were free to search for the elusive treasures almost anywhere.  Ben had been looking forward to this vacation.

 

After making small purchases at each of the stores in an effort to win over the proprietors’ favor, Ben had asked about the best locations where he might hunt for his own geodes, carefully making notes and marking locations on a map he had brought with him for just this purpose.

 

While he got lots of advice, Ben also got a lot of warnings about venturing out into the desert.

 

“This is the wrong time of year to be heading out there,” said one man.  “Temperature is going to reach a hundred by noon, and there’s no water or shade to be found anywhere out there.  It’s gonna be like Hell’s sauna.”

 

“That’s okay,” Ben answered.  “I’m used to the heat.”  Where he was from in Florida, the summer temperature hit that high every day.

 

“Well, if you’re dead set on going, leave early and take a helluva lot of water.  And if you are hiking, remember that the desert floor can be 20 to 30 degrees hotter than what the thermometer says.  A man that sits down into that oven ain’t likely to stand back up.”

 

Ben thanked the man and drove his rental car to the motel for the night, eager to set out early the next morning.

 

Long before sunup, Ben set out, stopping only to buy a case of 12 oz. water bottles and a few snacks from Walmart and to get a tall chai tea at the local Starbucks.  By the time the sun was cresting above the horizon, Ben was far out of town and looking for the dirt road leading off the highway that would lead to the first site he wanted to check for geodes.

 

Finally, spotting the billboard he had been alerted to look for, Ben carefully eased the rental car onto the dirt road.  Ben wasn’t really happy with the choice of vehicle the rental agency had given him.  He had asked for a four-wheel drive vehicle, but the agency had interpreted that to mean a subcompact van-like car with all-wheel drive.  When he had complained, the agent had explained that it was a ‘crossover’, “combining the best features of town and sport driving”.  Though Ben wasn’t convinced, he finally accepted the vehicle since it was all the agency had available. 

 

Gingerly, Ben drove the miniature car over the rutted dirt road, frequently having to drive along the very edge to avoid deep potholes or jagged rocks.  Several times, the car bottomed out, scraping its undercarriage over a sandy bump in the road.  Starting to be thankful he had bought the full insurance coverage the car rental agency had offered, Ben was sure the little car would make the trip as long as he was careful and drove slowly.

 

Finally reaching the end of the miles-long dirt road, Ben loaded his backpack with half the snacks and six of the bottles of water.  Ben locked up the car and headed into the low hills in search of treasure.  Hours later, with the backpack now loaded with rocks, empty water bottles, and candy wrappers, Ben made his way exhaustedly back to the car, feeling lightheaded in the oven-like heat. 

 

As he emptied the pack of rocks into the back of the car, Ben thought to himself, “I don’t know if it’s the altitude or the lack of humidity, but this is not like Florida.  It’s too hot to breathe.”

 

Unlocking the car, Ben discovered the temperature inside the car was much hotter, far too hot to enter as the dark plastic upholstery of the car was too painful to even touch.  Worse, the extreme heat had caused most of the remaining water bottles, resting on the passenger seat, to burst.  Searching through the sodden mess, Ben discovered that only two water bottles remained intact. 

 

Ben’s troubles quickly doubled.  When he tried to start the car, nothing happened.  No matter how many times Ben tried, the car made no noise, no lights lit up on the dash, and the car resolutely refused to start.  For the rest of the day, Ben tried to clean the car’s battery cables, checked fuses, and tried repeatedly to start the car with no result.  Finally, long after the sun set, Ben gave up his attempts to start the car and fell asleep in the car seat.

 

Despite his exhaustion, it was difficult to sleep because of the cold desert night air.  Ben had not thought he would need a jacket during the summer, nor was there a blanket or any covering in the car.  Ben alternated with shivering in the car, and stamping in circles around the car trying to warm himself up with exercise. 

 

When the sun finally rose, Ben decided he had to do something.  He had tried to ration the remaining water, but only had one 12-ounce bottle left—not enough to survive another day waiting for people who didn’t know he was missing to start looking for him.  Doubting he would be rescued if he stayed with the car, Ben decided to walk directly towards the city he had left, reasoning that if he could climb a low rise in the distance, his cell phone might be able to pick up a signal.

 

Using his notebook, Ben left a detailed note in the car, then set off, hoping to travel as much as possible before the sun—and the heat of the day—rose higher.

 

Surprisingly, the desert was not as nearly flat as Ben had thought.  It seemed that he was almost constantly walking up stony hills followed by walking unsteadily in the soft sand that lay between the hills.  After several hours, Ben couldn’t see that he was any closer to the distant rise, but he could no longer see the car behind him.  Though he had surely covered several miles, his cell phone still couldn’t pick up a signal.

 

Ben had rationed the water well, taking only small sips when he thought the sun and the heat were making him lightheaded, but eventually, there were only a few sips of water left.  Exhausted, Ben remembered the words of the proprietor of the rock shop and was terrified of even resting for a minute by sitting in the hot desert sun. 

 

Too late, Ben realized that he should have stayed with the car, which was far more likely to be discovered than a single man walking across an endless desert.  He could have set fire to one of the car’s tires to attract attention, the car’s mirror could have been used to signal, and while the fluid in the radiator couldn’t be drunk, he could have used it to cool off.  All of these thoughts tormented Ben, since he knew he could never make it back to the car, even if he could spot it.

 

Looking off to the West, hoping to see the sun lower in the sky than it was, Ben suddenly saw the square outline of a small house.  Removing his hat and using his shirt sleeve to wipe the sweat and grit from his eyes, Ben took a hard look at the small structure, but all that was visible was the upper half of a frame building and the roof.  Ben immediately altered course and walked directly towards it.

 

Though the building looked like it was only a mile away, it took Ben the rest of the afternoon to reach it.  When he finally stumbled down the last sandy slope leading up to the building, Ben was disappointed to see that the building had long been abandoned.  One corner of the roof was collapsing inward and there were no windows and doors left.  Weeds were growing in the doorway of the small building. 

Then, Ben saw the small stock tank at the far end of the building.  Rushing over to it, he discovered that rusted metal tank was empty, but beside the tank was an old-fashioned water pump with its handle sticking straight up.  Sitting on the ground below the handle was a large glass bottle filled with what appeared to be water.

 

Carefully, Ben lifted the bottle and read the words on the label on one side of the bottle:

 

This bottle contains exactly one quart of water.  Use it to prime the pump, which works perfectly.  Use all of the water—it takes the entire bottle to prime the pump, any less and the pump will not work.  Please refill the bottle before you leave.

 

Ben stared at the words for a long time, trying to decide what to do.  There was more than enough water in the bottle to last for at least one—maybe two days.  But, Ben didn’t know where he was, or even which way he should walk.  On the other hand, if the pump worked, he could stay at the house until someone finally located him or the abandoned car.  But, if he poured the lifesaving water down the pump and it didn’t work—he would be stranded with no water. 

 

Ben didn’t know what to do.