The Farm Father sighed.
Finally, they compromised.
The tractor would take most of the load.
The Farm Boy could handle the guide rope from a safe position.
The neighbors leaned over the fence.
The farmer in the red cap shouted:
“Kid, if a treasure chest comes up, we get ten percent for entertainment.”
The Farm Boy ignored him.
The second farmer laughed.
“Pull harder!”
The boy gripped the guide rope.
The tractor moved slowly.
The main chain tightened.
Nothing happened.
Again.
The lid groaned.
The Farm Boy felt the rope vibrate.
Same sensation as the first day.
Only stronger.
The farmer in the red cap laughed.
“That’s it?”
The Farm Father stopped the tractor.
The contractor inspected the lid.
A thin crack had appeared around the edge.
And through that crack came water.
Clear water.
Not muddy pond water.
Cold.
Fast.
The Farm Boy knelt.
“Look.”
The contractor touched it.
Then quickly stood.
“Pressure.”
The boy smiled.
Behind the fence, one farmer shouted:
“What?”
Nobody answered.
The contractor waved toward the Farm Father.
“One more inch.”
The tractor moved.
The cap lifted slightly.
Water shot through the opening with enough force to spray three feet.
The neighbors stopped laughing.
The Farm Boy’s heart hammered.
The contractor yelled:
“Stop!”
The tractor stopped.
Water continued.
Not slowing.
The pond surface began trembling.
The Farm Boy stared.
The contractor looked toward the father.
“This thing is alive.”
The farmer behind the fence called:
“How much flow?”
The contractor ignored him.
He checked the trench.
Then returned.
“We need the lid off clean.”
The Farm Boy gripped the rope again.
The father looked at him.
“Ready?”
The boy nodded.
The tractor pulled.
The rusted cap tore free.
For half a second, nothing happened.
Then the pond erupted.
A thick column of clear water surged upward from the dark opening.
Not twenty feet.
Not spectacular like a geyser.
But powerful enough to push muddy pond water outward in rolling waves.
The Farm Boy stumbled backward.
His father grabbed his shoulder.
The retired contractor laughed.
Actually laughed.
Not mocking.
Joy.
Pure disbelief.
Behind the fence, the farmers were silent.
Water poured into the temporary channel.
The pond level began rising almost immediately along the muddy bank.