Soul Group

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Tuesday, December 4, 2007

“Raindrops are falling on my head, pit-ter pat”

It was raining ‘cats and dogs’ right before our lunch time. We were doing role plays in the hall and when it came time to leave…that’s when our adventures began…

Tom and I looked at the huge puddle right there before us, the only obstacle between us and Bus 4, which would take us to the ice rink. We glanced at each other with puzzled expressions as neither of us knew how to cross the deep pool of muddy water. We took a deep breath and started wading our way through the dirty water. As we took our first step, we thought ‘Well this isn’t so bad’ But, we should have never ‘counted our chickens before they hatched’. As we took our second step, the water became deeper and we started to wonder whether we should turn back. On the third step, we were halfway to the other side when we thought…’too late’ for the water had started leaking it’s way through the holes in our sneakers. I then realised that the probability of the where the water was going to be the deepest, was in the middle. (Who designed the school’s pathways so that the path would slant in so all the water would flood?! Oh yes, great ‘architecturing’).

We found refuge on the ramp leading to C block and felt relieved that the worst was over, but as we looked to the quad that we were about to cross, we became aware that the worst was only just beginning…

The whole quad was flooded. Even more than that of the pathway we had just bravely, made our way over. We gazed over to the other ramp, where Jerry, George and Fred had found shelter under and saw that they were removing their shoes. So we quickly started to do the same. Taking an even bigger breath than last time, we started to step our way through the almost-knee-deep water. It was cold, muddy, dirty, horrible, uncomfortable, bad, icky, gross, disgusting and wet. Step by step we tackled the water pushing against the non-existent current and bypassed a twig being sucked into the drain creating a whirlpool. When we reached the other side, we ran to the toilets and started drying ourselves off. To our disgust, out shoes and socks were soaking wet with rain/dirty water. While we pondered on what to do, Tom reminded me that we have to catch our bus to ice skating. Hurriedly, we decided on just wearing our shoes and not our drenched socks.

Upon arrival at Norwest, we ran- correction: we couldn’t run due to our sore feet so we hobbled- to the ice skating toilets and attempted to dry our shoes and socks under the hand dryer. FAIL. It proved no use as everything was still wet. Throughout the hour that we were at the rink, we constantly ran to the seats, to rest our tired and sore feet, or to the toilets to re-attempt to dry our shoes. (You see, by now I had given up on my socks) In the end, we just hobbled our way back onto the bus and found a form of relaxation called listening-to-high-school-musical-songs. (Tom’s idea, not mine, I repeat, NOT mine)

Oh, what an adventure!
PaT.