1 Nov 2011
While I was getting ready for school this morning, an hour later than I usually do, thanks to today's lack of first class, an unusual clamor stopped the complete silence. Strange scraping could be heard from somewhere in the bathroom, from a pipe inside the wall I couldn't identify, and the weird intermittent sound was too loud to be simply the water going through the heating system.
I have rarely been home and awake at that time of day. During workdays I am at school then, and I am sleeping during weekends. For a second I thought it was some kind of a refill, some regular normal procedure going on in the old heating installation. The hoarse "melody" continued for a while. After checking that everything is fine in the bathroom, i.e. there's no wall leakage or broken pipe, the water is running smoothly and the water boiler is off, I just acquiesced that the situation is such, I made sure all electric stuff is off, opened the door, walked out of the empty apartment, locked from the outside, and started climbing down the stairs.
Revelation was supplied on the third floor, where the radiator had apparently started not only leaking, but literally shooting out gallons of hot steaming water. The hall was flooded, the water was running down the other floors, making the old lady's apartment on the second floor, (right beneath the one where the accident happened) a giant mess. To add up to this, the neighbor was helplessly banging on the door where the leaking initiated, trying to call on the owners who were either absent or asleep. Yet, when I think about it, they couldn't have been asleep, the noise was too loud, was supported by banging, and many people were out on their thresholds in their pajamas, all trying to get the water out of their doors, and prevent more from coming in.
"Hey girl, do you have these people's phone number?"-the man who was banging on the door said.
"No, I'm sorry. What happened?" - I asked, pausing, even though I had to hurry, and I was already aware of the answer.
"Heating system is leaking from their apartment. A vent was broken or something."
I noticed the water dripping in the middle of the stairs, and the tiny lake that was formed around where it was splashing. Vapor was emerging. It was definitely hot!."Can one pass?" -I asked.
"Of course! That's no big deal!" I started walking as close to the wall and as far from the water as I could, the second I heard the slightest reassurance that it will "not be a big deal".
"Thing is, if we don't get in there to stop that, this whole building can burst in flames." His voice reached me though I was a floor and a half down.
I stopped for a second.
Was he exaggerating? - I thought. Can it get so hot for the wood and cement to just light up?
I couldn't tell.
The basic stuff I needed the most was with me. I was off to school. I was in no danger. The apartment's not mine, and I have little stuff of big material value in there. I could do nothing at the time, and I wasn't intending to go back and pass around the steaming waterfalls to get the laptop or something just because I was slightly paranoid.
I left the building with that question stuck in my head. It kept me thinking for a while.
Weird scenarios appeared in my mind for the whole duration of my walk to school.
Having the lucky coincidence of AP Chemistry being my first class. I consulted with my professor about temperatures and spontaneous combustion. In few minutes, I was completely reassured that the building was in no danger of fire.
But if I didn't, that question would've - no doubt - haunted me all day.
The thing I wonder now is: Did that man know he was exaggerating, was he doing it on purpose, to sort of show me how big of a deal the leakage was? Or was he simply panicking and not thinking too much about the conditions and the possibility of the outcome he presented.
And thanks to this, I see that sometimes exaggeration can have a whole wider impact than just overstating something for the sake of it.
Sometimes we can't control it.
Sometimes it seems right to put something in such manner.
Sometimes we don't even believe it's an exaggeration.
After all, with us being persuaded that "everything is possible" by motivation books, advertisements, billboards, professors and advisers, can we really tell when we've taken things too far?
When I returned home, I was happy to find out that nothing happened, all was settled, the water was pumped out.
All went well.
But thanks to that guy who was slamming his fists at the neighbors' door, trying to figure out a way to save his own place from the water, some tiny voice in my head still kept saying: what if it didn't?
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