The Taste

Trevor woke up early, again. Time for work, or school, or down to the dmv slash city hall slash all other

government services building to collect his assistance check. It didn't matter.

Trevor showered, shaved and brushed his teeth. He dreaded this moment every day. Rinsing his mouth out with

water from the tap in his bathroom sink, as he did too often, the sickly sweet flavor slammed his senses.

"It tastes like my cat," he said aloud. "What has happened? Where did we all go wrong?"

Today, something inside of Trevor snapped. He had to find out why. Once a year, the city sent a 'report

card' of the water quality, and they always got high marks. Some of the best in the state, if not the

country. Low sediment, perfect chlorine and fluorine. All the things that let you sleep well at night. But

the taste, the awful, awful taste.

Trevor had to call in a favor from an old college buddy, but he was taken on an unscheduled tour of the

water treatment facility in the farmlands outside of town.

He wandered the halls, hardhat on his head and plugs in his ears. There were the chemists, the laborers, and

the skilled technicians. Nothing out of the ordinary, as far as he could tell. He watched as a lady named

Billy sampled the water. She showed Trevor how a turbidity test worked, a pH monitor, and several high-tech

gadgets he had never seen had alarms to warn the technicians if something was even slightly off. He watched

as a sample right from a regular faucet was bottled, sealed, and sent to a laboratory via UPS.

Trevor was at a loss. He rode the bus back home, wearing his new T-shirt that said "Safe Water for You and

Your Pets!" and had a picture of a hamster cage on it. As the sun set, he looked upon his city and wondered

what the water could possibly be doing to the people in it. Then, he knew.

Trevor waited until midnight. He put on his best ninja impersonation: black pants and shirt, and a wool cap.

And he climbed the water tower.

Trevor didn't know what he expected to find, but he knew this had to be the answer. As he climbed, he

reflected on how hard it actually was to climb a few hundred feet by ladder. His arms burned, but he made it

to the top. Unfortunately for Trevor, there was still a short climb from the landing to the top of the tank.

After catching his breath, Trevor climbed the few rungs up to the top. There was a manhole. It looked like

it belonged on an old submarine, like he had seen in the World War 2 movies.

Trevor steadied himself on the ladder, and began to turn the wheel to the hatch. Surprisingly, it moved

easily, like it was used often. It opened, and he peered into the blackness within. He heard a sound.

"fffrt, fffrrrtttt" he heard. Trevor was truly scared for the first time in his adult life. He took his

keychain from his pocket, and turned on a small flashlight, shining it into the center of the tank.

Something was there, suspended half in the water by webbing, or something similar.

"There's no way," he said. "Old Mrs. Woolworth???"

The End...

By Adam