Adventures in Sewage

The first home we moved into in Salmon, Idaho was a sprawling ranch house. Next to the house was a big barn. Mikey and I had roughly seven acres of pasture to play in. Out in the field were a few more barns. Dad told us to stay away from one of them because it was old and rickety and might cave-in on top of us. We obeyed him some of the time. Our brand of play included courting danger. Tempting fate by having a barn fall over on top of us seemed like a great adventure when we were feeling extra brave.

The big Salmon River ran behind our house. Mikey and I were told to be careful when we played around the river because it could be dangerous. Dad, who had grown up around this river, told us stories about nearly drowning a few times. He taught us about eddies and sleeper rocks and logs that could cause a person to get drug underwater and drown. We had respect for the river.

Ricky and Danny lived just down the highway from us. They were Mikey’s and my first friends in Salmon. We could just walk out our gate and down the fence line and be at their house in a few minutes. They were the same ages as us and seemed prone to court adventure, just like us.

Our new house was big and it echoed. I got lost in it a few times and couldn't find my bedroom. I was used to the Boise house that was impossible to get lost in. It only had a couple of bedrooms and they were small. Things were different in the new house. In the new house, there was a brown, gas furnace that sat just outside the kitchen as you walked into the living room. I liked to play there because it was warm and cozy. When the furnace came on, I could see flames leaping inside. I was tempted to poke sticks or paper in there just to see what would happen. But mom was always just in the kitchen nearby. She was my conscience for the first seven or eight years of my life and I couldn't get away with anything while she was around.

I liked to play in the barns. Dad promptly got a milk cow a few weeks after we moved to town. I guess he wanted to become a rancher and ranchers had cows. We went to pick up the cow and all the while, I wondered why dad was so adamant that we have a cow. I figured it was because there was no milkman in this town and this was the only way to get milk. Seemed logical to me and I accepted that. I missed the milkman in Boise. He was a nice guy who always smiled at me and said, “Hello.” I also missed those glass bottles he would pick-up and leave on our porch.

Not long after we moved into our new home, Mikey came to me with a secret. I was not used to being privy to any of his secrets and I was elated. He led me outside and into the backyard. A short distance behind the house was a ditch that ran parallel to our home. Mikey pointed to a pipe that ran out of the ground that was aimed right at the ditch.

“You stay right here, Jeffy, and don’t move! Watch that pipe and don’t take your eyes off of it!”
He then ran towards the house and disappeared through the backdoor. I watched the pipe intently, not knowing what surprises it held. Within a minute, I heard some gurgling coming from the pipe and suddenly some murky water and toilet paper flew out of the end and splashed into the ditch below! I was mystified.

Mikey reappeared and explained everything with excitement. “This pipe comes from our toilet in the house! Our crap comes out of this!”

This was the answer to a lot of mysteries I had been trying to solve since I was old enough to watch stuff get flushed down the toilet and disappear forever. This was the answer to the toilet mystery. I felt like a scientist who had discovered a major breakthrough. Suddenly, everything in my whole existence started to come into focus. I realized there were logical conclusions and answers to things I had previously deemed unsolvable– like where does my crap go after I flush the toilet and it disappears down that little hole. That had been puzzling me for at least a couple years.

The rest of the day, Mikey and I flushed various objects down the toilet and then raced outside to watch them fly out of the pipe. It was a great way to pass the time and nobody seemed to mind. Small sticks, broken pencils, paper, and a few of Julie's small toys were flushed and gone forever. We were busy and out of mom's sight, so the fun and intrigue continued well into the evening.

At a young age, I learned the principle, “Out of sight, out of mind,” when it came to interaction with mom and dad. If I laid low and kept a low profile, there were fewer chores. Hang around and act bored, though, and mom would find plenty of things to do an none of them fun!