Story 150: Digging an Epic Hole

            She was on the phone with the gas company for the seventh time: “But when I called yesterday the technician was scheduled to come here today – why is it now scheduled for tomorrow?”

            Son appeared in the backyard doorway, holding a trowel in one hand and a bucket in the other: “Mommy, is it all right if I dig a hole to the center of the Earth in the backyard?”

            “Hold on a sec – yes, sweetie, just not in Mommy’s flower garden.  Or near the shed.  Or by the – just do it in the middle of the yard, please.”

            “OK, I will.”  He departed.

            “Yes, I’m still here.  No, no, that wasn’t done until the second visit; I was talking about the first visit.”

            Son appeared in the backyard doorway, now wearing a miner’s helmet with the headlamp lit: “Mommy, do we have any extra lumber for me to shore up the hole’s walls?”

            “What?  Just be careful honey; you can use the wheelbarrow if you want.”

            “OK, I will.”  He departed.

           “Um, let’s see, the first visit was in March, and the second was in May; do you think the computer might have mixed up the months?”

            Son appeared in the backyard doorway, holding the trowel handle and sweating: “Mommy, the outer core melted the trowel, do we have any heat-resistant tools that I can borrow?  They would need to withstand at least 6,000 kelvins.”

            “It was in March!  I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just a sec – honey, Mommy’ll be off the phone in a minute, if the trowel broke you can take the other one from the shed.”

            “OK, I will.”  He departed.

            “Sorry, I – what?  So someone’ll be here today and the bills will be fixed?  OK, I’ll wait for the letter in the mail to make sure, but thank you very much…. OK, you too, bye-bye.”  She disconnected the phone and slumped in the kitchen chair.

            Son appeared in the backyard doorway; she could see a strange glow in the air behind him: “Mommy, I reached the center of the Earth, want to come see?”

            “Of course!  Are any more of my tools broken?”

            “Two trowels and the wheelbarrow were sacrificed during the expedition, I’m afraid.”

            She joined him outside and they peered down the narrow hole that led straight to the Earth’s inner core.

            “That’s… some hole,” was all she could say.

            He beamed with pride: “Glad you like it – I made it myself.”