Free The Legend of Kevin the Plumber by Scot Gardner Page A

like being a doctor, only for a doctor I hoped they could make the camera a bit smaller. I wouldn’t want one of those suckers up my drain.
    â€˜There you go,’ Kevin said, and the camera pushed into a wall of black-green slime. ‘Just accumulated debris at . . . it looks like a junction. Probe won’t shift it. Have to go for the sewer rooter.’
    At that moment, I was glad he wasn’t my doctor.
    He looked at me thoughtfully.
    â€˜Okay . . . listening?’ he said. He spoke slowly. ‘I want you to pack the probe up just like you found it. I’m going to the van to get another tool. I’ll be back in a minute.’
    â€˜Right.’
    The probe was covered in slime. I pinched it in the tips of my fingers as I fed it back onto the reel but it didn’t slow me down. The switch was off and the cord wound up again when Kevin returned at a jog.
    â€˜What I need you to do, Gary, is to bolt down to that pit down there. See that metal grille in the floor?’
    â€˜Yep.’ It was as big as a dinner table and shiny like it had just been cleaned. How could I miss it?
    â€˜Go down there and watch for the head of the rooter.’
    He showed me the head: a funnel-shaped metal coil with teeth. The rooter was the tool that convinced me that plumbers and doctors were only alike if you’d missed out on your daily cone of mull. The head of the sewer rooter looked like something an alien would use to bore into your skull.
    â€˜Tell me when it comes out of the pipe and into the pit.’
    â€˜Right,’ I said, and jogged to the metal grille. I could see four pipes that emptied into the pit. Kevin uncoiled a long thin spring that was the body of the rooter, attached the head and threaded it into the drain. He shoved and twistedand the spring vanished into the pipe. Shoved and twisted. The spring continued to disappear until the monster plumber had to attach another length. Shoved and twisted until that thin spring had disappeared too and the head popped into the pit.
    â€˜Yep!’ I shouted. The head was covered in brown pipe gore and I was thankful I didn’t have to touch it.
    Kevin nodded and began to pull the spring back out of the drain.
    The rooter’s head dropped off.
    It clattered against the wall of the pit and hit the sludge in the bottom with a flup . Was that supposed to happen?
    I looked at the head. I looked at Kevin. There was a belching sound and suddenly the pit was alive with a waterfall from one of the pipes.
    â€˜Damn,’ Kevin said. He held the empty end of the rooter spring in his massive paw.
    â€˜It fell off,’ I said, and Kevin nodded.
    â€˜Can you see it?’
    â€˜It’s in the pit,’ I said. ‘All this water came out. I can’t see it anymore.’
    Kevin packed up the rest of the rooter and looked in the pit.
    â€˜That’s a bit of a bother,’ he said. ‘Do you reckon we can lift the grate?’
    I moved to the end opposite the big bloke and thought a crane might have come in handy at this point. There was no way . . .
    Kevin had his fingers curled through the steel and he was looking at me. Waiting.
    â€˜I’m not . .. I don’t know . . .’
    â€˜It’s not as heavy as it looks. Grab on.’
    I hooked my fingers in the steel mesh.
    â€˜Keep your back straight. Just to the side. Ready? Go.’
    I heaved and my knees started shaking. Kevin’s end of the grate scraped clear of the concrete. It was a foot off the ground and you could have twanged a tune on the muscles in my thighs. My end started to move and before I could be blown away by my own strength, we were clear of the floor — just — and shuffling to the side.
    â€˜Gently . . . down . . . that will do.’
    I uncurled my fingers and the grate clattered to the concrete.
    â€˜Reckon you could fit through that gap?’ Kevin asked.
    He was asking me to crawl into the slime pit.
    â€˜I’m not . . .