don't want to be here.
That's all I could think as I trudged into the job site this morning. It's a cool 50 degree morning in Tahoe. This had all the makings of a fantastic day. One of those dream days you think about years later. I used to love this kind of weather, and I honestly can't think of a single place I'd rather be besides Tahoe in July.
Besides home that is. Home asleep in my own bed with the wife and kids annoying the shit out of me as I try to sleep. I probably wouldn't even have a headache if I was home. And I sure as hell wouldn't be considering caving my bosses skull in with a wrench as I walked into one bullshit situation after another.
Don't get me wrong. I like my boss. He's got an guy all considered. Even if most of the time his head is lodged firmly up his backside. He's good people, but it seems like every day since I agreed to hop ship to his crew has been a giant train wreck. And that all has culminated in today.
My trade is that of a sawman. I cut down trees and I'm pretty damn good at it. I'm not a arborist, I don't climb trees. I'm not a lumberjack, I or a logger. No I`m a sawman. Not the best in the world, but if you need a tree cut down I'm your guy. Sure some have done it longer, and some do it neater. But not many, and I'll be damned if any do it like I do. I love my job, and I love chopping down trees.
I don't have anything against trees per se, but I live in California, and around here trees that get to old, or to close together have a nasty way of lighting on fire and causing all sorts of a ruckus. So my company is contracted to cut firebreaks. Think Disney movie style levels of evil deforestation where machines tear through the underbrush, but in a really thin line. The idea is we kill some trees, and then fires can't kill the rest. It works, and we're damn good at it. But I'll be honest, I do it for the love of the craft, not a love of nature. That may make me a bad person, but there's just something about wedging down a 90 foot tall tree and watching it fall that gets my jimmys all in a bunch. When I'm behind a saw I'm a happy man. Because any man who is doing what he loves and more importantly what he's good at is a happy man.
That is not what I'm doing today. No today I'm eight feet deep in a 5x4 hole, and elbow deep in ice cold nearly frozen groundwater. You see a few months ago my boss' boss decided that we were going to diversify the company and start building condos, and like an idiot I volunteered to help out. So now I'm eight feet in a hole I dug myself, trying to manhandle a valve closed because I forgot to seal it. Water is splashing every which way. My clothes are rigid with mud and I'm pissed. And worse that all that is there's no one to blame besides myself.
The main issue is I'm a saw man. I'm not a pipefitter, I'm not a pipe layer, and I'm not an excavator operator. But these past weeks I've been all three. Add little oversight, and a general lack of skill at reading site plans and you land in this mess in which I find myself. I honestly don't know how it happened but the valve on the pipe I'm burying came open and started shootings a geyser of water into the sky. No one else was on site so I hopped out of my equipment and jumped on in to remedy the situation. I don't know how the valve tripped, I'm not entirely sure why the main water line is opened, and I sure as hell don't know if I'm supposed to be fixing it like this, but down in that hole as I wrench back and forth I slowly feel the pressure lessen on my arms in by tedious inch, and I'm sure I'm doing the correct thing. Fake it till you make it works sometimes and in that moment with a heave and a pull I snap the butterfly valve shut with a heave and then collapse back.
"Fuck" I say out loud as I sit there, legs straddling on the pipe, my breath coming in ragged gulps. I see spots in my vision for a brief moment as I consider the situation. I'm fucked. Completely and utterly. I'll probably keep my job. But this is going to be one hell of an ass chewing. "At least nothing big happened" I say to no one in particular. "That could have been really bad"
At that moment a low groan rolls out from the surrounding walls, as if the gods above heard my statement and feel bad for the karmic backlash such a stupid utterance demands. But it isn't a god, and it isn't karma. It's my own untrained idiocy reaping its just rewards. You see when one digs a hole or fills one in, generally to stop the hole from caving in you secure the edges.There are many ways to do this that I am in no way educated in, and the process is generally referred to as "shoring" as in shore up the side of that cave trench or hole so it dosnt collapse. The point here is I have no idea what shoring is. I've never dug a hole this deep before, annd my boss is a cheap bastard who didn't pay for it. A more importantly I'm eight feet down and I just flooded the hole with water.
Before I can even consider reacting there's a snap and ten thousand pounds of dirt slate and mud collapses in on me instantly crushing my lungs. There is no feeling. No pain. Just a moment of regret for being the perfect mix of stupid and industrious to have gotten myself into this situation.
I'm sad to say my death isnt instant. The weight crushes my lower body and torso instantly, but my hard hat keeps my brain safe. I get a few moments to think about how I got myself into this situation. I think of my daughters, whom I love dearly, and my wife. Luckily I have life insurance. But mostly I think of how stupid of a way to die this is. Out of all the ways to go, I didn't have *Crushed by mud* anywhere in my top ten. I'd have put my money on a tree taking me out. Any smart man would have turned the water off at the main, or simply called someone and asked what to do.
But not me, I'm the perfect mix of stupid and gung ho, and now I'm dead for it.
I probably only get about thrifty seconds to consider this while my consciousness fades away, but through the delirium it seems like all the time in the world. I get to regret every decision I made that got me here in fine detail as my mind is snuffed out.
And then as the light of my soul fades, I feel a movement, as if I'm a candle and someone has reached out and lifted me away. A cool breath blows upon me, and I feel a burning that eats away all that I am. Then darkness.