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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required When I was a child in Los Angeles, you could size up groups approaching by watching their movements. I remember this gang of older kids approaching me, watching them carefully while looking down to see if they would follow me as I cross over the other side of the street. If they cross over and match my movements, I'm in trouble. I still remember the feeling of their penetrating eyes as I glanced up. Everything inside of me was screaming. My mind was racing and I remembered the storm sewer at the corner of the street corner I passed a few moments ago. Without hesitation, I turned and ran for my life, sliding into the corner of the street between the sidewalk above and the street below. A few more pounds and I would have been stuck. This storm sewer basin is a large concrete box with a large concrete pipe in the corner that goes somewhere. The gang members are all around now swinging their chains, and sticks with attached razor blades. They are acting like a pack of dogs yelping and hollering their prey is trapped in a corner. They began working on the manhole cover above, using a bar of some sort to gain access to me below. A chain grazed my arm, the barbs leaves a couple of cuts. My body is trembling, fear is now getting the best of me. I am trapped with no where to go other than down the drain pipe. There is no rescue above, so I quickly entered the large drain piped into a dark abyss. The drain pipe connects to a tunnel that is big enough for a car to pass through. I can hear voices getting closer, so they must have got passed that manhole. They seem to be following me so I run down the tunnel into the darkness so they would not see me. I stopped to listen, but I heard no footsteps. I ran so far that there is no light, and the darkness has turned into nothingness. Reaching out with my hands, I walk blindly and bump into a wall. I can’t go back the way I came because of the fate that would await me going back. There is nothingness is all around me, so I am not sure what direction is where. I remember running down the right side of the tunnel before stopping to listen. When I start walking again and run into a wall, so that must be the right side, I think? I decide to continue the same direction, and since I'm right handed, I'm more comfortable on the left side, I turned and walk towards the left side to have something to touch. It seems like an eternity until I finally reach a wall. This wall will become my security within this nothingness, my right hand free. I can’t see my hands or feet, or even hear a sound. There's no point of reference, only the wall and solid ground under me. Thank God this was a time before graphic vampire movies or Freddy Krueger. I have only those Alfred Hitchcock movies to pull my fears from. Continuing through this nothingness, a beam of light begins to appear from above. It’s amazing how much light comes through this little tiny hole from a manhole cover—it lights up the whole area. I stand there amazed and take a deep breath in this light. It has been a long journey to this point. As I stand there, I see a ladder leading to a possible escape. I climb the ladder and listening carefully before pushing up on the cover. I'm not strong enough. Many of the manhole covers are spot welded by the public works department to prevent opening manholes in the middle of a street. I climb down from the ladder and pause for a few moments in the light to absorb what I could before continuing on. This tunnel must lead somewhere, right? Another beam of light and a manhole cover that is welded. The fear of the gang has long past, my only thoughts now are those of being lost. The nothingness continues as I walk, and it has been a long time since the last little beam of light. I have found the meaning of hopelessness. The floor below is beginning to get damp, Ike. What am I walking in? I can't see anything and I'm too afraid to stop touching the wall to stoop down. The wall is my security. My mind is pretty numb right now, my only thoughts are dragging my hand on the wall and walking. The dampness becomes wet, and from wet to splashing. Briefly, a moment of fear, I pause to sense if the water is moving. Am I going the wrong way and am I about to get swallowed up by a wall of water? The water seems static and the silence yields no sounds, so I continue. What choice did I really have? At last, I feel a sense of salvation from one of those little beams of light shining from above. I look down at my feet and see the little fish swimming in the water below. I'm headed to the ocean, oh yeah!! The nothingness continues until again, there is a little light at the end of the tunnel. The wall is no longer my security; I follow the light. Continuing, the water is at my knees as I walk towards the light. I can smell the ocean and feel a slight breeze. Feeling really happy inside, I can see the ocean and the sand, but sigh, there is a bar screen blocking my exit. Again, I feel rather defeated with a slight sense of panic. I am thinking to myself that there is no way I can go back as I look closely at this bar screen blocking the way to freedom. I notice that one corner has been pulled away; I can see through the sea water that it is bent outward, and it's high tide. I cannot wait for the tide to change because it will be dark soon, so I take a deep breath and go down. My shirt snags on something as I reach around to the other side and pull. I struggle as my shirt tears, but I am free... It feels wonderful to be free. Looking at the beach, I notice that it's windy and there aren't many people there today. I look around to get my bearings before I start home again. I will never will tell mom about any of this. Many months later, the city workers are welding extra bars over these drain openings on the street corners. I am heavier now and I would not fit anyway, but what choices will others have to make for their escape? Edward J Ebbs - 9/28/2014
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