The Power of Testimony

MARK BOUMAN || 33
With Dad already outside, I hoped it would be a night we wouldn’t
be called upon to fix the pump in the well. Dad had cut a rectangular
hole into the dirt around the well and installed an old pump and a reservoir
tank. It was insulated so poorly, however, that the pump often
seized, and Dad liked to say that Jerry and I were “just the right size” to
climb down into the well and bash an old hammer against the side of
the pump until it began running again.
When the well was first drilled, we were all grateful to have running
water. However, the water contained so much iron and other metals and
minerals that we could almost feel the grit between our teeth. Mom spit
out the first sip she took, declaring it unfit for humans.
Dad must have tasted it too, because he didn’t seem surprised when
a salesman came a few days later to tell us about the latest in water-​
softening technology. We watched with interest as he collected water
from our well in a small vial, then added drips and drops of various
chemicals, periodically checking tables of colors and numbers in a three-​
ring binder. Then he announced that we had some of the hardest water
he’d ever tested and that we’d need two complete filtration and injection
systems, along with double the normal amount of salt.
We bought a single system. Jerry and I were supposed to add salt
to the machine each week, but that lasted only until the initial supply
of salt ran out, because when we told Dad it was time to buy more, he
shrugged. From then on our softening system simply served as a conduit
for our freakishly hard water. Mom still had to walk to the Dietzes’ for
drinking and cooking water every few days, taking Jerry with her to help
lug it back. Dad had found an orange five-​gallon plastic cooler, and it
lived on the kitchen counter next to the sink. For the washing machine,
however, Mom was forced to use the well water, and everything she
washed turned yellow. T-​ shirts and underwear were the color of lemons
after one wash, the color of urine after two, and a ruined, rusty orange
not long after that. Evidence of the hard water collected all over the
house: an orange stripe ringed the toilet, the water that came out of the