Even the Rain Didn't Help

It was a hot and sunny day in Center City Philadelphia, and the sun hung high in the sky, despite the lateness of the hour. Even in the shade, the temperature was 111° while in the sun, it felt more like it was 120° maybe even far beyond that and James had no inkling of how the heat factor scale worked. All he knew was that he liked the much cooler air (in the 60's - 80's was more his style), it felt like he was in a confectionery oven where even the slight breeze made it feel worse and only stirring the already hot air around his sweating body.

James stood at the edge of Philadelphia's Dilworth Park, which in reality was not much more than a large patio on the west side of City Hall with an interactive fountain that pulsated in rhythm and had a path that meandered down the middle of the main fountain. If this were what he would call “a normal day”, he would take a slow walk down the path through the cooling water. But it seemed as though every kid in the city was either there, at the fountain across the street in Love Park, as well as every other public fountain in the city, of which there were a quite a few.

He wanted to go to one of the museums to wander around in the cool air, but it was Monday, and in Philadelphia most of the smaller museums were closed. He knew, however that the Central Library was always open on Monday and it was about a 15-minute walk from City Hall to there. He could do this, he knew he could.

That single 15-minute walk felt like an hour even though he took the most direct walking route. Granted, there was some shade from the building that he was able to walk through, but for the most part, the last bit of the walk gave him no shade and made him feel like a rotisserie chicken being baked over an open fire.

But at last, he found himself walking up the steps to the library. Soon, soon he would be in one of the large sitting rooms taking in the cold air. One more step, he looked up at the main door where... where the big iron gate that was usually wide open was closed shut. Taped to the glass door behind the iron gate was a note on a sheet of printed paper CLOSED DUE TO AIR CONDITIONING MALFUNCTION. WE WILL REOPEN TOMORROW.

James let out a string of curses that lasted for almost five minutes. Before looking up to see the Barnes Museum across the street from the library, while he knew some of the smaller museums were closed on Mondays, the Art Museum and the Barnes fell under a different schedule.

James made his way across the street, but he got there just in time to see the guard lock the door. By this time, his sweating was getting to him. Another 15-minute walk in the blazing hot sun, where he finally crawled up the Art Museum steps like a toddler who hasn't gotten the skill of walking down pat. At the last step he grabbed the Rocky statue which had recently moved back to the top of the Art Museum after sitting down in the one corner. But recently, a statue of Joe Fraizer was put on the corner, and Rocky was put back at the top of the steps where he always should have been. As the statue was made of bronze which wasn't heat conductive, it did have a slight cooling effect when he touched it, but not so much that he wanted to linger in the sun that felt like it was 120 degrees or more and was beginning to bake him.

Finally, he was at a place where he could cool down for an hour or so, but there were a lot of people exiting the building with a suddenness, which wasn't a good sign, but he pushed his way through the crowd and inside.

A security guard slowly approached him speaking as he moved. “I'm sorry, sir but we're about to close,”

“What time do you close?” James asked.

“5:00,” the guard looked at the time on his cellphone, “and it's about that time now.”

“5:00? I thought you didn't close until after 8:00?” James looked at the time on his own phone, as if he needed confirmation of what the guard said.

“That's on a Friday night, my friend."

“Oh. Can I just stand here for a few minutes to let the cold air hit me.”

“I'm sorry, if you were to come here earlier, of course you could,” the guard responded. “But now I have to ask you to leave!”

“Can I at least use the bathroom and get a drink of water?”

The guard looked at the small park down the street where there were a few port-a-potties available, left from a recent event. “Use one of those down there.”

“Those things usually stink to high hell,” James tried to push past the guard.

“That's the only option!” The guard insisted as he got a dirty look from another guard that looked like he could be some sort of a superior.

“Never mind,” James turned around and left. He was getting over heated, tired and now needed to take a piss. He didn't want to use one of the port-a-potties, besides, he probably wouldn't make it. He turned around towards the door pulled down his zipper and took a piss so that the guard could see.

Of course, the guard had a sudden conniption fit.

“You know,” the other guard placed a hand on his shoulder, as he watched the ugly spot on the window grow, “maybe you should have let him use the bathroom.”

Before he took the journey back down the steps, he sat for a few minutes at the top of the Art Museum steps, where he got no relief from the sun, even the Rocky statue didn't cast a shadow, despite the hour.

It was time for him to head home. He headed down the steps and moved towards the bus stop just in time to see it pulling off. “Wait!” He cried as he waved his hand. The driver waved back with a smile as he pulled away. “Oh, come on!!”

By now James was burning up, he could feel his body temperature rising and thirst swelled up as dehydration set in. At least there was a water fountain where he could take a nice cold drink. He hit the little knob and water squirted out with an intensity. He touched his lips to the water and felt a burning sensation like he was touching his lips to fire. It must have been a while since somebody used it, as it sat in the direct sun and the water in the pipes came out screaming hot.

He looked up and saw a food truck. The attendant was handing a customer a nice cold can of soda. While it wasn't his go-to drink when he was hot and thirsty, it would do the job. “Can I just get a soda?”

The attendant carried the empty water cooler to the curb. “I'm sorry, I just gave out the last one.”

“Any warm sodas?”

“EEW! No!”

James looked at the now lukewarm water that sloshed around in the cooler. “I'll even drink some of that!”

“I wouldn't even make my worst enemy drink this.”

“I'll even pay you for it!”

“Get out of here!” The attendant dumped the water out onto the curb.

James looked as the water quickly made its way to a nearby drain then walked away with a frown. The next closest place to get something to drink was several blocks away in the wrong direction, besides, the bus was coming, surely there would be some relief on that.

The bus pulled up, which was packed tighter than a can of sardines. As nobody was getting off, the bus sailed right past the stop. James wanted to say something, but as luck would have it there was a follow-up bus directly behind it. Maybe, maybe luck would be on his side, and it wouldn't be crowded.

The bus stopped. The doors opened. James stepped on and swiped his pass over the scanner, then sat down under one of the air vents expecting to be hit with a gentle blast of cold air. While there was air blowing on him, it didn't feel very cold. He put his hand up into the airflow, the air was coming out hot like it was a cold winter's night.

“Excuse me,” James called out to the driver, “I think you have the air on the wrong setting.”

The driver looked him through the rear-view mirror.

“The air's coming out hot.”

“Oh,” the driver looked at the air control mechanism, “I inadvertently put it the wrong way. Give it about 10 minutes and things will cool down.”

“In 10 minutes, I'll be home!” James scoffed as he looked out the window, it was getting very dark very fast, a dark cloud loomed overhead. A pop-up thunderstorm was approaching, and he was hoping to make it home before it hit.

The bus came to James' stop, the rain hadn't hit yet, he got off knowing that all he needed was another two minutes and he'd be home. The bus pulled away and the rain came down hard, so hard that he couldn't even see where he was going. It wasn't a cooling rain either, as it hit his skin in a way that it felt like it was fire.

He pointed himself in the direction of home, he could only see a few feet ahead but knew what to look for with each step. All he could do was baby steps through the fiery rain cursing and swearing with every step.

Closer to home he trudged until he could see his apartment building, then finally his door. As quickly as the rain started, it stopped and the sun came out again; hotter than ever. But he knew it wouldn't matter as all he had to do was put his key into the door and he would be inside.

James fished around in his pocket for the key. It wasn't there. He checked everywhere on his person, even checked the lock to make sure he pulled it out when he left. It wasn't there. He knew property maintenance had a copy, but he hated calling them, and besides, they weren't on the property and would take them a while to get somebody there with a key.

He gave them a call.

“This is property management.”

“Hello--.”

“We cannot take your call at this time...”

“Blah, blah, fragging blah!” James barked out as he severed the connection.

An alert came up on his phone SEVERE WEATHER ALERT STILL IN EFFECT THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT. PLEASE STAY INDOORS.

“No fragging shit!” James plopped himself down on the ground in front of his door; he was about to pass out from the heat. He looked up at the window, which was barred and padlocked, with the key to the lock on his keyring, which was doing him no good.

“Oh, God...” He began to pray out, then saw on the ground just a few feet away the key to his apartment. Apparently when he left earlier, he didn't put the key into his pocket properly and it fell onto the ground.

James put the key into the lock, turned it and pushed the door open. Finally, he would be inside, where he would put the cold air on full blast. The light went on as he went down the hallway to where the environmental control switch was, he flipped the switch and waited for the tell-tale sounds of the central air to start up.

Nothing. No air came through the vents. James waited a few seconds, still nothing. He looked at the control, the panel light should've been on, but it wasn't. He pulled at the panel, the batteries sorely needed to be replaced.

That should have been an easy fix, but he already knew that they needed to be replaced and actually had them ordered from Amazon and were scheduled for delivery in two days. Little good they were doing him now.

James realized that maybe he should have taken the wet clothes off, as they were dripping water. He looked down at the puddle that was forming on the floor, and did just that. As there was no rug to worry about getting wet, he just let them fall to the ground.

Shower, he could take a cold shower. He stepped into the shower and turned the water to cold. Nothing came out. “Now what? I'm not even responsible for paying the water bill, property management is!”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” James called through the door, hoping it was Amazon with an early delivery of two AA batteries.

“Philadelphia Water Department,” A voice called back, “just letting you know you won't have access to water for a while, while we make repairs to your line.”

“You could have let me know you were doing that before you shut off my access to the water!” Again, James called through the door.

“I apologize.”

“How long will the water be off?”

“Hopefully, we'll have it back on by midnight!”

“Midnight?” No air, no water, James looked into the refrigerator. The only thing he had to drink was about a glass of milk. While he had the option of going to the convenience store, he didn't like that idea because they were run by a couple of pirates who charged almost double the going price of anything they sold, so he decided against that.

As a last resort, he pulled out a small fan and turned it on, at least he got a little relief from that as he lay back on the couch and let the minute amount of air stir around him. It wasn't a lot of help though, but at least it was a little help; very little help.