The Stinky Underpass (Bad Smells)

The other day I embarked on a dreadful task… doing our dishes. They had formed a small mountain range originating from the middle of the sink and continued along the countertop. As I reached the bottom of the heap, I removed a pan that had been retaining what seemed to be a poisonous gas. The stench overcame me and I barely held on to consciousness. It was the kind of smell that becomes imprinted on your mind, like the smell of your girlfriend’s perfume only on the opposite side of the spectrum of delight. Anyways, this particular smell brought back the painful memories of similar fragrances that I’d had the misfortune of encountering in my life. A particular experience stood out in my mind…

It was a very rainy day back in my middle school years. A friend and I found ourselves staring out the window at the torrential downpour that awaited us on our walk home. We had heard rumors that there had been flooding all along the Susquehanna River. The time was approaching in which we would have to brave this flash flood on our 15-20 minute walk home.

When the bell rang, we grabbed our bags and jackets from our lockers and made our way to the door. After saying a silent prayer and preparing our game plan for getting home in the fastest manner possible, we made a mad dash out of the door. The whole trip was plagued by giant puddles and blinding rain. We made great time by jogging every once in a while and found ourselves at the last part of our journey home: The Stinky Underpass.

The Stinky Underpass was an underpass (and thus appropriately named) that went under the railroad tracks that connected my house to the parking lot of a local supermarket. It received the adjective “stinky” because it is filled with human waste, including trash and the biological variety. The walls are covered in graffiti and the ceiling with cobwebs. It was a popular place for druggies to go because no cop wanted to venture into that smelly abyss.

As my friend and I descended the stairs of the underpass, we realized that we couldn’t see the floor of the tunnel. It was pitch black. Then it hit us, it was flooded! There was about 7 inches of sewer-like water covering the ground of the last bit of our flight home. We knew that going around would take another 6 minutes or so, so we got inventive. Taking a shopping cart from the parking lot, we pushed it down the stairs, hopped in, and used sticks as paddles inside our shopping cart boat. Pushing our way through the damp, stinky tunnel, we felt incredibly proud of ourselves having conquered this obstacle. That’s when something went wrong and we stopped.

We were stuck. We had gotten a wheel caught on… I’d rather not imagine what it could’ve been. We were half way through. There was no going back. We hopped out of the cart and made an awkward, sluggish dash for the other end. We made it out, but we were soaked in sludge. We both made it home safe that day, but the awful smell that stuck to us and those clothes for days after the incident was permanently ingrained into my mind.