Farewell to the Fountain

My office has been move to the second floor, where my window mirror and fountain view have been replaced with a lovely view of the Wasatch Mountains. But before I moved, the fountain decided to host a final, bravura performance.

I was in the midst of a discussion with a co-worker when she looked over my shoulder out the window and asked, “What is going on?” There was some sort of commotion on the street involving police sirens, like an orchestral overture had started to signal the raising of the curtains. As if on queue, a longer haired man with a backpack came sprinting from stage right, tossed his backpack from his should, and leapt several feet into the air and came down on his side into the fountain. There was an audible clunk as he hit bottom followed by a rattling shockwave on the window. There was a long pause. His backpack lay on the ground against the fountain directly in front of my window.

“Is he hurt? Or is he stoned?” I asked. My co-worker shrugged.

We stood on our tip-toes and craned our necks to try to see down into the fountain. I could barely see the man’s upper torso as he glided about the fountain on his back, occasionally spewing water from his mouth as if it were a blow hole.

“Stoned,” we both intoned in unison.

Before we could puzzle out the plot further, we heard the wail of a motorcycle cop headed toward the fountain.  The swimmer heard it too and immediately siddled up against the edge of the fountain wall. It was like a toddler was playing hide and seek. Perhaps if he had closed his eyes, it would have been more effective. In short order, he was out of the fountain, on his stomach in handcuffs.

By this time, several other co-workers had joined the premium seating along my window. The motorcycle cop was followed by the police cruiser, and then an ambulance. We speculated whether it was the swan dive into the fountain or the drugs in his system that prompted the ambulance and agreed it was likely the former.

In the end, another long-haired man in cuffs sat in the background on a grassy mound watching his presumed accomplice surrounded by a chorus line of cops and paramedics. The drama continued to unfold for the next few hours.  I had the opportunity to re-count the plot points from the first act for many late comers for much of the morning.

The fountain really out did itself for this farewell production. I almost didn’t want to move.

Almost.