The weather in Hawai‘i has changed. One distinctive feature of Christmas Break used to be non-stop rain. We were out of school for two weeks, and it wasn’t unusual to have rain the entire time.
A stream runs along our property’s length, maybe 400 feet. It’s called an ‘auwai, a storm drainage mini-canal that runs to Pauoa Stream in the valley below. It has four-foot high walls is four feet wide, is all mortared stone, and runs three miles.
Where the ‘auwai begins along our property, there are two water sources. Above, water rushing down the road diverts and pours through a slot, cascading twelve feet down. At that point too, a tunnel under the street opens up, and you see the water running out under the waterfall.
It was fifth-grade Christmas Break. I loved watching that waterfall-tunnel combination during storms. The water would churn into this torrent of froth that would wash over the ‘auwai’s sides at peak.
On this day I sat mesmerized by the show. It was pouring hard, the water was flowing up over the sides.
All of a sudden this piece of yellow slicker type material emerged. Plants grow in the ‘auwai, and a small tree caught the cloth. I scooted to that point and reached out to grab it.
This was a mistake. I’m so glad that I knew the ‘auwai well. I knew the bottom was mostly flat, and I knew it was four feet high, so even though I fell in and was swept down the ‘auwai, I knew it was possible to keep my head above water. This was not so easy.
However, as I say, I knew the ‘auwai. Halfway down our property, there’s a little bridge connecting the two sides, and underneath that bridge, for some reason that I still don’t understand, a ¾ inch pipe runs side to side at about two feet high.
I knew it was coming, and when I hit that bridge, I reached with my feet for that pipe. I caught it, and the force of my downstream speed caused me to pop up so that my chest was against the bridge, my hands against it.
I stepped out of the water and up onto the bridge. I was shaking with fear and the cold. I suddenly felt pain in my right thigh and looked down to see I was bleeding pretty badly, having scraped the entire right thigh area, taking off a lot of skin.
When I had gathered myself together, I snuck into the house, showered, then bandaged my thigh as best I could. I put on pajamas so my folks couldn’t see the bandages, ate dinner, and went straight to bed.
My leg burned. I could barely sleep. It became pussy. I prayed the area wasn’t infected and turning gangrenous. After maybe four days, that burning stopped, and I could see scabbing.
To this day I have no feeling in the right outside of my thigh. But I did survive.
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Aloha #WriterTuesday, I hope all is well with you. Today’s #WritingPrompt is
Use it to inspire a piece of writing, and then post that piece as a comment below. I would love to read it : )