 
 JOURNEY INTO THE PIPESWilliam Luby
 

    The four boys walked around the pool of overflow water from the
    reservoir and hesitated in front of the three pipes.  "Which one?"
    Jay asked the group.
    
    "The middle one," Brian replied.  The other boys mumbled in assent.
    The concrete pipes were about eight feet in diameter, with no more
    than three inches of water running through them.  Some twigs and
    small stones were visible in the water, but after about twenty feet,
    the pipes turned sharply to the right and there was nothing but
    blackness.
    
    Tim stepped confidently into the middle pipe and straddled the
    stream beneath him.  There was too much water to walk the pipe
    straddling the stream, so Tim ran along one side until gravity
    pulled him back close to the water, then he jumped over to the other
    side, repeating this pattern as he disappeared into the darkness.
    He was able to criss-cross the stream in this manner as long as he
    kept moving; when he stopped, the curvature of the pipe allowed him
    no refuge from gravity and forced him to straddle the stream in
    order to keep his feet dry.
    
    Jay followed closely behind Tim, with Phil and Brian just a few
    short steps behind him.  "What's the farthest anyone's ever gone?"
    Phil asked.
    
    "Nobody knows," Brian answered, but I guarantee nobody's ever
    followed the pipes to the end.  Brian was the unofficial leader of
    the group.  He was the oldest and most experienced of the boys, so
    it never occurred to any of them that he might not know what he was
    talking about.
    
    Not a word was spoken as the boys disappeared into the blackness,
    but the rhythm of their footsteps reflected the tentative mood of
    the group.  After a minute or two, a shrill scream froze the boys in
    mid-step.  "What was that?" Phil whispered.  No one answered, but
    concealed by the darkness, Brian flashed a mischievous grin and bit
    his lip to keep from bursting out in laughter.  The only sound was
    the water rushing beneath their feet.
    
    After perhaps a half a minute of silence, Tim began moving forward
    again, this time at a slower pace.  All the boys were excited,
    because they believed they had gone farther into the pipes than
    anyone else had ever been.  In the past, the braver members of the
    neighborhood had occasionally ventured into the pipes by themselves,
    only to reemerge sheepishly two or three minutes later.
    
    There were three identical pipes, about eight feet in diameter,
    spaced evenly across the bottom of a wedge-shaped concrete runoff
    area that extended approximately fifty feet down.  When the adjacent
    reservoir was filled to capacity, runoff careened down the face of
    the concrete into a pool that fed the three pipes.
    
    The boys from the nearby neighborhood had made up wild stories and
    legends about these pipes over the years, much the same way that
    primitive cultures ascribe religious significance to local
    geological phenomena.  Part of what helped to feed the myth of the
    pipes was the fact that no one had any idea where the pipes went.
    The boys had explored almost every inch of their neighborhood,
    without ever finding a spot where water emerged from any pipes.
    Certainly there was no such area in the vicinity of the reservoir.
    
    After another minute or two of moving through total darkness, Phil
    spoke up again.  "What if this pipe doesn't come out anywhere?  How
    long are we going to keep on walking?" Phil was afraid and wanted to
    turn around.  The darkness had become an environmental Rorschach
    test for him, playing on all of his fears and uncertainties to
    create imaginary dangers.  It occurred to Phil that there could be a
    sudden flow of water that could drown them, a deadly vertical drop
    that they could blindly fall into, or worse yet, something evil
    lurking in the darkness, waiting to devour them.  For Phil, however,
    it was more important to be held in high esteem by the peer group
    than to avoid the risk of physical harm, even when the danger was
    real.  For this reason, he looked for a face-saving way to persuade
    the group to turn around that would not give away his anxiety.  Phil
    knew that any attempt at identifying a legitimate danger would only
    be counterproductive.
    
    In truth, the others were just as fearful, only more adept at
    concealing their emotions.  None of the boys had the nerve to walk
    the pipes alone.  In a group of four, there was no teamwork or
    emotional support, per se, only the knowledge that if something
    dangerous was going to confront them, it would probably confront
    them as a group, rather than as isolated individuals.
    
    Twenty minutes after they had entered the pipes, Jay spotted some
    diffused light off in the distance.  He immediately raced by Tim
    before anyone realized what was happening.  When the others saw the
    light, they too sprinted to be the first one out the other side, but
    Jay had too large of a lead to be caught.  When he got to the end,
    he let out wild whoops of joy.
    
    The end of the pipes was a disappointment of sorts.  Looking up, all
    that was visible was blue sky; no one had any idea where they were.
    Water flowed from the pipes down a steep concrete incline, which was
    covered with what was known locally as green slime.  At the bottom
    of the incline was a bluish green pool, enclosed by a ten foot high
    fence that was topped with barbed wire.  In every other direction, a
    concrete wall some 35 feet high meant that they would not be able to
    climb out of their predicament.  There was no way out.  There was,
    however, a ledge that if hugged closely, provided just enough room
    to make it over to the three other pipes.  Jay checked out one of
    the other pipes and Tim inspected the other.  They looked just like
    the middle one did.
    
    In the excitement of their discovery, the mood of the group was
    upbeat and lighthearted.  Jay told bad jokes, Phil soaked in the
    warm rays of the sun and Brian speculated on their current
    whereabouts.
    
    It was Jay who eventually suggested a race back through the three
    pipes.  Tim, who was always looking for Goliaths to test his courage
    against, volunteered to take one of the unexplored pipes; Jay took
    the other outside pipe, leaving Phil in the middle, with Brian
    bringing up the rear.
    
    "Go," Brian yelled, sending all three boys hurtling into the pipes.
    Jay started out as fast as he could, determined to be first, and
    oblivious to the possibility that there may be dangers in his pipe
    that were not present in the middle pipe.  Tim ran slower and more
    methodically, prepared for anything that lay ahead.  Phil had the
    advantage of having successfully traversed the length of his pipe
    before, but in the darkness, he couldn't help but wonder if there
    were dangers that had been avoided on the way in which he would have
    to confront on the way back.  He ran as much from the fear of what
    was behind him as in defiance of what was in front of him.
    
    About halfway back, Phil grew tired of hopping the stream and began
    running through the water, sending echoes of splashing water in both
    directions.  When Phil saw the opening at the beginning of the pipe,
    he picked up his pace and kept running through the pipe's opening.
    He put his arms together in front of him and launched his body, in
    the shape of a dart, toward the pool.  In mid-flight, Phil looked
    back over his shoulder to see Jay and Tim emerge from their pipes
    only two or three seconds behind him, with looks of relief on their
    faces.  Just before he hit the water, Phil heard a voice inside his
    head let out deafening "Yee - ha!" that sent chills up and down his
    spine.
                                    -end-
                         Copyright (c)1993 William Luby
