Mud Pie Woes
A Short Story
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the on scene reporter bellowed over the din, “we are at the edge of what appears to be the largest, well,” she paused to collect her thoughts, “mud puddle in the Tri-state area. No one is quite certain how this puddle formed but local university geologist, Peter Kline, and his assistants are on the scene in an attempt to answer that very question.”
The camera panned over the expanse of dark brown muck that had taken over the corner of Fraugh and 92nd Street.
“Geez Ray, can you believe this mess?” Karen mumbled to her camera man as she stepped out of the frame to adjust the lapels of her powder blue blazer.
“I have never seen anything like it, ma’am.” Ray continued his pan of the devastation.
Ray zoomed on what looked to be a gable similar to the surrounding homes, as the tip blipped out of sight into the soft earth, Ray scanned the crowd for more interesting activity. The frame tipped over the top of a small head bobbing through the chaos.
“We should really get an interview with Kline.” Karen checked her makeup in the reflective surface of the camera.
Ray switched off camera to conserve power before seeking white lab coats.
“He looks busy at the moment.” He said and gestured a man in uniform. “We could interview the new deputy first.”
Karen nodded. They picked between throngs of people and the edges of the gummy ground.
Police officers struggled to control the growing swarm of onlookers surrounding the tremendous bubbling, brown pit.
“Please, people you have to back away. No one’s sure what caused this or if it could expand.” The young officer called into the crowd.
Deputy Henderson’s looked over the mud puddle with resentment that his first time out was not his ideal police assignment. He sighed and continued pushing back the crowd.
Henderson caught sight of a small figure sneaking between a group of legs just out of range. Before he could move in on the situation or send another officer to do so a large man shouldering a camera blocked his way.
The lovely but stern news anchor, Karen Owen thrust a microphone in the young officers freckled face. Henderson was trapped.
He put on his best public relations face and prepared for questions he could not answer.
“Approximately nine meters across sir judging by the calculations of the circumference.” Gregory offered clip-boarded notes to his supervisor.
“Yes, yes,” Professor Kline nodded; he flipped pages of the report, “but do we have any idea as yet how it was formed?”
Gregory lolled his head side to side before turning his attention back to the burbling center of the pool. The crowd, those that saw, backed away a bit from the burping lake. Gregory’s encounters nor case studies, ever offered such a strange occurrence. He looked to Professor Kline for guidance but his mentor’s face was a contortion of confusion.
A tiny tug at his lab coat pocket drew Kline’s attention to a small girl.
“Mister,” her pale doe eyes shimmered, “I’m real sorry mister. My friends and I, well, we din’t mean to make such a big mess.”
Kline raised an eyebrow at the small, filthy child. “How did you get past the barricade, young lady.”
Gregory moved to shuffle the child back to the line of officers, knowing how little tolerance his superior had for children. The girl wriggled free of Gregory’s grasp leaving slick mud wherever his coat touched her hair and clothing.
The professor raised a hand to allow the child to speak.
“Well, sir, see we just wanted to make a mud pie. But see, the pipe in back of the house,” the child’s eyes welled, “it burst.” Streaks of pale cheek appeared through the blackish caked mud as tears washed the mud. “My mom is gonna be so mad. She just washed the sheets this morning.”
Gregory heard his voice blurt before he could compose himself. “Little girl, are you saying that your house is in the middle of this puddle?”
The child nodded, a flood of tears running down threatened to add to the puddle.
Professor Kline looked from the girl, to the puddle, to the reports in his hands. Gregory watched for some cue of the mood the professor might choose. Ray’s camera was rolling but Karen merely held the microphone near the professor’s face.
