The Year Money Grew on Trees - Aaron Hawkins [38]
"Where's the water going?" I asked Brother Brown.
"Pipe under the road carries it to the other side," he said as he climbed the canal bank and started walking toward his orchard.
"Does everyone have a gate and a wheel like that?"
"Everyone who can get water."
"How can I find the one for our orchard?"
"Better start lookin'."
We crossed the road directly across from Brother Brown's wheel. Next to his last row of trees, water was pouring out of what looked like a hole in the ground. It filled a deep ditch that ran parallel to the road. We followed Brother Brown past ten rows of trees until we came to a tarp that had been set across the ditch and held in place by rocks.
"Got to make a little dam for the water," said Brother Brown, gesturing toward the tarp.
He adjusted the tarp and then waited until the water level had raised to about half the ditch's height.
"You know about siphoning?" he asked, looking at me. He gestured to some aluminum pipes lying on the ground.
My face grimaced and my stomach began to hurt. He didn't expect me to start sucking ditch water through those pipes, did he? "Yes," I said nervously.
"Grab a few of those pipes and get 'em going," he said sharply.
I picked up the nearest pipe and put one end in the ditch. I reluctantly knelt down on the ground and put my lips on the other end, ready to suck.
"No, no, not like that," snapped Brother Brown. He grabbed the pipe from me and shook his head. He put one end in the ditch and covered the other with his hand and then moved the pipe back and forth two times. Water poured out of one end, and he dropped it on the ground so it filled a small ditch dug parallel to one of the rows of trees.
"What did you do? Can you show us again?" I asked, as if begging him to reveal a magic trick.
He grabbed another pipe and moved a little slower this time. "Keep covering the one end while you push it into the ditch. Uncover it when you pull out," he said as he rocked the pipe back and forth. In a few motions, water came spurting out and he laid the pipe on the ground.
"Need three pipes on each side of every row," he said as he moved to grab more pipes.
"Okay, let me give it a try," I said, turning to the others.
I grabbed a pipe and worked frantically to start it siphoning. No matter how fast or how slow I tried, nothing seemed to happen.
"You're not doing your hands right," said Lisa.
I looked from face to face. Brother Brown was already a few rows away, leaving us behind. I looked at Amy, who had a calm, uninterested expression.
"Amy, you try, okay?" I pleaded.
She grabbed the pipe and moved me out of the way, positioning herself next to the ditch. She put one hand carefully on the open end of the pipe. With two quick motions, water came bursting out and she dropped the pipe in place. She turned to us with a satisfied smile. Jennifer clapped and yelled, "Yay!" I shook my head.
We all got in line for siphoning lessons from Amy. She proved to be a much more patient teacher than Brother Brown. He finished starting pipes for all the rows and came back to find us all still practicing. Little streams of water were now filling the ditches next to the trees.
Brother Brown grabbed a shovel that was sitting near the tarp dam and headed into the trees. "Gotta check the rows for breaks," he said. We followed along and watched as he moved dirt around in the little ditches to keep water moving along or prevent it from spilling out into the middle of a row. He mostly tried to ignore us.
Finally he said, "I'll let that run a few hours," and he started walking toward his house.
I could sense that the lesson was over but wanted to get some last-minute clarifications. "So this is the same way Mr. Nelson used to do his irrigation?" I asked, following him through the trees.
"Yep, pretty much."
"Where does the water go at the end of all these rows?"
"The runoff goes down another ditch that heads back to the river."
"And how often should I water like this?"
"Oh, about once a week."
There was so much more I wanted to ask him, so