One Person’s Headache is Another’s Ecstasy (Short Story)

     The saying, “one man’s steak is another man’s leftovers,” might be considered a cliché by some, but examples of this phenomenon can be found throughout western culture.  One of the more unusual cases of this phenomenon took place in the small town of Nevera, New Mexico. Located in the northern part of the state and nestled in a corridor within the southern extension of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, Nevera gets its name from the early Spanish settlers who chose to establish roots along a flat spot next to the Rio de los Grandioso, or Grand River. A beautiful location notable for the river widening to point where it almost looks like a lake, and stunningly beautiful views everywhere. In short, a naturalist’s dream environment come to life-or a developer’s nightmare depending upon your perspective.

     Unfortunately (or fortunately as the case may be), Nevera gets its name from the Spanish word for “icebox” since the wind whistles through the corridor where the town is situated at a fairly steady clip, creating a sort of cold temperature inversion that makes places like Duluth, Minnesota feel like a location shoot for tropical vacation videos. To comment about Nevera in winter being a cold place is sort of like saying the pope prays regularly.

     One of the more colorful characters living in Nevera is the town’s resident teenage free spirit

and all-purpose adrenalin junkie, Dexter Manley, or as most people referred to him, “Daredevil-Dex,” DD for short. Ever since that day he successfully cleared the irrigation ditch with his little brother’s stolen Big-Wheel tricycle, DD had been attempting all manner of high risk, minimal reward, regular first name-basis visits with hospital staff, increased insurance premiums for his parental units, stunts.

     It didn’t matter whether the particular act was for height, speed, distance, or ground clearance

purposes. What really counted to DD was whether or not he successfully pulled it off, and the manner in which he was able to accomplish this latest feat of daring-do. As some Nevera residents put it, “DD’s latest brain lapse.”

      The instrument used to pull off the stunt, and the environment in which the act took place, were also prominent factors in DD’s eternal quest to appease his high-risk, ego.  He’d been doing these sorts of things all his life, so DD’s parents, Miles and Margaret, gave up on trying to dissuade him from attempting them a long time ago. Better to just sit back and pretend he was making his daily visit to the local library for some light reading. Disregard the fact that the local librarian had become DD’s biggest fan and high-risk stunt instigator.

     Edward Rodriguez on the other hand, didn’t have the luxury of visiting the local library on a weekly basis, much less daily. His job as the head of Nevera’s five-man public works department crew kept him and the boys so busy that finding the time to do anything outside of their regular job duties was a task bordering on successful defiance of gravitational laws.

     Edward and his crew’s main job besides maintaining the roads in and around Nevera, was keeping tabs on the sewer and water pipes for the town. Making sure everything was operating like a finely tuned Swiss watch. If it wasn’t, fix it ASAP, then face the dual wrath of the town

council, as well as the local constituency.

     This latest apocalyptic fiasco was a big one too, as evidenced by the not-so-serious discussion

between James Armando and Nigel Wiggum, public works employees.

     “So where is Patron granderight about now? Asked Nigel as he hesitated while reaching across the table for that last donut in the pastry box.

     James glared ominously at Nigel. He too wanted the donut. “Ed told me he needed to go

down to city hall and discuss how we’re supposed to fix this water main break up on Nelson Hill. Big one too, since we’ll have to dig up the entire line from the road all the way in. It’s got to be repaired muy pronto in the next few days, or we have a total mess on our hands.”

     “Ah come on, can’t be that bad is it?” asked Nigel, self-satisfied with the fact that he’d gotten to the donut first. “What’s a day or two matter as far as this one does?”

     “Wanna bet,” said James, trying to look as stern as possible in order to emphasize his point. “Ed says unless we seal that crack and stop it from leaking, the entire hillside from Nelson point all the way down to the meadows will freeze solid and turn into a huge sheet of ice.”

     “Damn. Why does this sort of thing always happen to us right in the dead of winter?”

     James started laughing, but then realized he’d be one of the boys partaking of the fun involved in fixing the leak. “Yeah, you ever thought about going on vacation right about now to some tropical island in the South Pacific?”

     “All the time,” said Nigel wistfully. “But then I begin to realize I’m allergic to coconut oil and shudder at the thought of the rash I’ll get. Too much sunshine isn’t good for me either.”

     “Good point,” said James. “You know something, a guy who lives near Taos told me most of the folks in that town want it to snow all the time. Talk about total wing-nuts.”

     “You got that one right. Brain deficient Muffin Heads as far as I’m concerned.”

     Not all of them are totally lacking when it comes to brain cells. In actually, some

suffer from over-sized adrenal glands instead. Daredevil Dex was in this category.

     When DD first found out about the big water main leak from his buddy at the library, he began licking his lips in contemplation of all the stunt possibilities. Immediately childhood memories of sledding that hill flooded back, and DD began to envision just how much faster a person would travel if they started from The Point and ripped down an ice covered hillside. Distance traveled was also an added contemplation as the bottom of Nelson Hill emptied on to a meadow with lots of wide-open space.

     The length of time the water leak was happening worked serendipitously for DD as well. The crack happened late on a Friday morning, wasn’t discovered till that afternoon, covered a large portion of the hill with water throughout the night, and set up into a smooth sheet of ice early the next morning. Now all DD had to do was dig his old sled out, tighten a few screws, and start waxing the blades. Life couldn’t get much sweeter at that particular moment. 

     For Ed and the boys on the other hand, “life really bit the big one,” as the old saying goes. Excavation of the pipe took place the following morning, and to say it wasn’t a very nice job is a gross understatement.  Luckily the wind was gushing at only 40-50 mph, and a light snowfall accompanied them as they dug to the pipe and began pinpointing the leak. The temperature that morning had even warmed up into the pre-teens, which almost added to the pleasantness of the affair. “Almost,” being the operative word in this case.

     “Well guys,” said Edward. “I owe you an apology. This job sucks harder than a souped-up Hoover at a vacuum cleaner rally.”

     “Not your fault boss,” said Marshall Quimby. “Nothing to apologize for in this case. Although this ground is kind of hard. Any way you can soften it up?”

     “Yeah,” said Nigel Wiggum. “What about having this stuff happen in July too?”

    James Armando smiled mischievously. “Then it wouldn’t be as much fun,”

     Edward almost chuckled. “No matter what time of the year this happens, I can’t even imagine this sort of thing making anyone happy. Winter especially.”

     “At least we’ve found the leak,” said Marshall. “Patched it until we can totally replace the

pipe next week. So Patron, what do we do about this sheet of ice stretching all the way to the bottom of the hill from here?”

     “Rope it off,” said Edward. “Then wait till it melts in the spring. Tell the newspaper folks to get the word out. That way we keep dumb-assed kids from playing on it.”

     “What kid would be crazy enough to do that?” asked Nigel.

     “None,” said James. “Most of them are too busy playing video games on their Xbox.”

     James failed to consider the fact that Dexter Manley didn’t even own an Xbox, let alone use one on a daily basis. Even if he did have such an instrument of artificial entertainment, it would probably collect dust from none use. DD tended to enjoy more esoteric, outdoor, pursuits.

     DD knew the town crew might be fixing the pipe so he and his buddy Nelson watched from a hidden perch across the slope. They made sure to keep a low profile since DD didn’t want to be seen, and figured (rightfully so in this case), these worker types wouldn’t take kindly to him blasting down the hill while screaming in joyous ecstasy.

      After the Nevera public works crew had departed the premises, DD made a grand entrance in the late afternoon sunlight, trudged his way to a spot just below where they’d patched the pipe, like a good Hollywood stunt man checked to make sure everything in good working order. He then hopped aboard, and gave Nelson the signal that he was ready to take off. DD proceeded to slide down the hill at a speed mere mortals might consider suicidal. Then again, most people wouldn’t commit the grievous sin of calling DD normal.

     Nelson thought about taking a photograph of DD in action, but decided against it. Primarily owing to the fact that any sort of picture he’d take of his buddy barreling down the hill would likely be a total blur unless he used some type of sophisticated, high speed, stop-motion film. An outrageously expensive camera to put the film in too. Both of which he couldn’t afford on his high paying librarian salary.

     Instead Nelson waited patiently till DD had climbed back up the hill, at which point he proceeded to chronicle the event for posterity purposes;

     “What’re you taking a picture for? Asked DD, generally not much for keeping records of his never-ending quest as an adrenalin junkie.

      Nelson chuckled. “Got to document this one for historical purposes. I haven’t seen a smile on your face that big since you were able to successfully ride your skateboard off the courthouse roof without being caught last fall.”

    “So I really blazed that hill?”  said DD, more than proud of himself for pulling off this latest achievement. “Life doesn’t get sweeter does it?”

     Meanwhile, Edward found himself alone and glanced out the Public Works Dept. window.  He just barely caught a glimpse of some kid riding a sled down Nelson Hill at breakneck speeds. Looks like he created some sort of perverse enjoyment for himself out of using all that ice covering the slope. Edward thought it a good thing the kid didn’t do it while we were up the slope going through the headache of fixing that leak. I should find out who it is so I can tell his parents. They’ll make him stay inside the house. That’ll show the jerk-wad.

     Then Edward noted it was that Manley kid. Ironic how his crew’s set of headaches turned into another opportunity for adventure in that DD teenager’s case. Edward smiled to himself, it’s true what they say, some people’s trash really is another person’s treasure.