Another Horrific Tale From Thevictorian Basement

Last Wednesday night, I sat upon my throne kicked back in my OPC (Old People Chair) to watch a DVR of Big Brother with The Pony. It was around 10:00 p.m. Hick was upstairs watching something loud on the other TV.

 

Let the record show that for a week or two, I would intermittently hear an odd noise from my OPC. Since the non-Pony-TV-watching hours I frequent my OPC are between 1:00 and 5:30 a.m., it did not occur to me to call out to the other occupants of Thevictorian Mansion.

 

They were not other-worldly sounds. Nor wildlife such as the cricket which has recently broken in, or come back to life. The sound was a sort of drip drip drip. It came at random times. Sometimes sounded like it was hitting the wooden TV tray that sits next to my OPC, acting as a side table for the remotes. 

When I heard it, I'd check everything around me. We don't have a drop ceiling down there. Just the wooden floor joists, and the plywood subflooring for the main level above. Hick did all the plumbing when we built the house 22 years ago. He's not one to be slipshod in his workmanship. I saw no drips or sweating on the white PVC pipes. 

 

Surveying my immediate surroundings, I saw nothing on the lid of my bubba cup of ice water. Nothing on the remotes. Nothing on the box of Puffs With Lotion. Nothing on the TV tray table. Nothing on the stand-up bendy lamp my mom gave us. Nothing on my OPC. (I actually ran my hand over all those items, checking for moisture.) Nothing on the tile floor. WHAT in the Not-Heaven WAS that noise?

 

When I heard it Wednesday night, with The Pony sprawled right there on the basement couch, I said,

 

"Pony. Do YOU hear that?"

 

"Yes. I hear it. It's over my head."

 

"No. It's over MY head."

 

I muted the TV.

 

"It's definitely behind me. Not over there by you."

 

"I don't see anything falling."

 

"Come around here and look. I can never figure out this sound. Here. Take this little green metal flashlight from two Christmases ago that I keep here in case the power goes off. Do you want me to turn on the bendy light?"

 

"No. I'm good." The Pony walked around behind my OPC, shining the light on the floor, and up on the ceiling beams. "Huh. I hear it. But I don't SEE anything." 

 

He bent low. Then stood and tilted his head back. I could only see him peripherally, on my left side, over my shoulder. 

"Wait a minute! There it went! Ehhhh... um... it's dripping from this pipe."

"That's the TOILET PIPE!"

"Yes. Yes it is."

"I KNEW IT! I've been checking that pipe every time I hear it, but I could never find it! It's the main drain pipe from your bathroom. But that part there is right under the TOILET! Am I going to get hit in the face if I lean all the way back?"

"Maybe?"

"This chair doesn't lean very far back. I've been leaning it back, though, and FALLING ASLEEP in it! Oh, no! I could have had POOP dripping in my mouth!"

"Technically, it's only water. I think the back of your chair looks that way because WATER has been hitting it. Or maybe that's just the color of the leather. It's hard to tell with this light."

"Oh, no! All this time, I've been sitting in it! I could never feel anything wet, though."

"It's on the back. DAD! Come down! The toilet it leaking!"

"WHAT?" 

 

Down, down, down stumped Hick, bare feet on the 13 wooden steps. Almost as fast as the time The Pony slipped and fell, and laid at the bottom with corn-dog ketchup fanned out around his head, looking like seeping blood.

"Look. The plywood is wet. That's where it's dripping."

"That's gotta be the wax seal. I'll put a new one in tomorrow. Don't flush the toilet until I fix it. You'll have to use our bathroom. Or come down here to the NASCAR one."

 

"Pony! Will I be okay if I just move my chair forward?"

 

"Yeah. You should still be able to lean it back, too. It's barely hitting it. Here. I'll push you."

 

"NO! That's okay. I don't think you have the strength to push me AND the OPC. I'll do it. But I'm not leaning it all the way back until that leak is fixed!"

Sheesh! I'm pretty sure Hick is trying to kill me. By poopy water torture, dripping in my sleeping mouth. I sh*t you not!