Page 28 of Wrecked

Rick lets out a loud, womanly scream. “Jesus Christ! What the heck?”

The crowd stops to see what the hell is going on.

Climbing on top of the table, I hold the hose nozzle up like it’s a pistol. “You said you were hot. Just looking to cool you off a bit.” I give him a wide smile, the kind I give my customers from the oak top bar of The Bucking Bronco.

“Are you crazy?” Rick asks—not in a mean way, more in a I-can’t-believe-you-just-shot-me-with-a-hose way.

“Yep,” I say. I hose down the guy standing next to him, who lets out a yelp. “And you’re crazy for leaving. Why did you choose to volunteer here in the first place?”

Rick answers while pulling his wet shirt away form his torso, “Because my sister was abused by her husband. Homes for All Souls helped her get back on her feet, and now, I’m helping them.”

My heart drops a little. I wasn’t expecting him to say that. “Do you think the crew working on her home quit because they were hot?”

“No,” Rick says with a shake of the head and an understanding smile on his face.

“And you”—I point the hose to the other guy, who jumps behind Rick to avoid getting hit again—“why did you volunteer?”

The guy steps out of Rick’s shadow and looks around the crowd. With a stance that shows humility, he says, “I’m a recovering alcoholic. My counselor suggested I volunteer to keep myself busy, away from temptation.”

“Where are you gonna go if you leave here?”

The man chews on his lip, not wanting to answer my question.

Toby walks over with a radio and puts it on the table. Excited to see it’s a Bluetooth, I kneel down and turn it on.

“You see,” I say while syncing my phone to the radio, “the problem is that your heart’s in the right place, but you’re not having any damn fun. Yes, it’s hot, and, yes, if you don’t hydrate, you will get heatstroke. But we’re not quitters.”

I put on a techno song called “Dive in the Pool (Let’s Get Soaking Wet).” We use it at the bar for wet T-shirt contests. The electronic music blasts through the speaker, and a woman starts talking over the music about everyone needing to get wet—obviously.

“You’re all here for a reason. I have to be here to serve my time. But we’ve all found something special in this project, and we will not stop until these homes are built. I say we take a break and get a little crazy!” I hit the nozzle on the hose and spray into the sky, making it pour down on the twenty or so people standing in front of me.

They’re staring at me. They look kinda stunned, probably wondering why there’s a blonde dancing on a folding table, making it rain. I think they’re about to freak out on me, but as the cold water hits their skin, they don’t get mad. They get…excited.

The music is bumping, and Toby makes it louder. A few people start laughing, and a couple shake their heads, not knowing what to make of the moment. I don’t care. I just hold the water up in the sky and start dancing on the table.

Toby shouts over to me, “I have an idea! I’ll be right back.”

He runs off to his truck, and I keep spraying and swaying.

People start to dance, and if I had a bottle of booze in my hand, I’d feel like I was at The Bucking Bronco, giving everyone shots—except to the guy who’s a recovering alcoholic, of course.

Toby runs back with a giant shopping bag. He pulls out this water-balloon contraption that’s supposed to fill up thirty balloons in seconds. He has dozens of them.

“Do you moonlight as a children’s party entertainer?” I ask sarcastically.

Toby lets out a laugh. “I bought these for my son’s birthday party. I’ll get more. Come on, the ground is going to turn to mud. Let’s take this to the field.”

Toby has an enthusiastic expression all over his face, and I freaking love it.

“To the field!” I shout with my arm in the air, like we’re going to battle.

We usher everyone to the grassy area, and within minutes, Toby and Rick are carrying hundreds of water balloons to us. Everyone arms themselves and scurries around. Like kids playing manhunt, they take aim and hide behind a tree or a boulder for cover. I get hit twice and get a few people, too.

Most people are running and playing. Some are just enjoying watching the debacle that is happening before them. Grown men and women are playing in a water-balloon fight on a hot day. Someone took over the radio, and it has been playing classic rock, which is an overall crowd pleaser. Almost everyone has taken off their shoes, running around like children.

It doesn’t take much to boost people’s spirits. As kids, we don’t care how silly we look or how wet or dirty we get. Nothing stops us. When we grow up, we become distracted and annoyed by the slightest inconvenience. We forget to stop and take a moment to find joy in the now.

It only lasts for twenty minutes, but everyone cools off as they get a little weird, like children do.