Ol’ Jack he had a plan, he said, to paint the town he lived in red. He’d take the place by storm, by God! But first he needed water.

To fetch the drink, he’d need a hand; it’s not a job for just a man. It takes two strong, brave, beating hearts to get the sought-for water.

So Jack got on the telephone, and he called Jill, she was at home. “Jill, come with me, and bring your pail. Why? To fetch some water.”

Fair Jill, she liked his way with words, his eyes when he would look at her. “Jack, I’ve got my pail right here. It’s ready for the water.”

They both met up at the bottom of the hill where the grass was green and the air was still. Side by side they stood there tall and looked at the top of the hill and all they thought about was life and how it was going to change.

“Jill, you never looked so grand, I am a goddamn lucky man to have you hold my steady hand. We are going to change this town or burn the fucker to the ground with the friction of our efforts. Today is today. It will end with today. Tomorrow will last forever.”

“Jack, you handsome, toothy bastard, this place is made of glass and plaster, the two of us could never last here. You and I are young and free, sunlight carried by a breeze that always finds the window. We’ll climb up this hill, drop our pail in the well, then pull it back up together.”

Now we can see young Jack and Jill, standing there on top of the hill. The houses wait below their feet. Their pail is full of water.

We know of course that Jack will fall, tumble down like an egg-shaped ball. His head will find a patient rock. The sound will fill the valley.

Jill’s feet will also let her down, she’ll roll along the sloping ground, and when she stops, she’ll hold the pail. The pail will hold no water.

But as for now they’re side by side, so let them think today has died. They’ve almost raised the pail back up. Can almost taste the water.