Hugging his knees to his chest, Caleb admired his home. A shimmering curtain of water separated him from the dense forest beyond the smooth, tan walls of the cave. No sound rose above the continuous crash of countless gallons of water into the plunge pool situated at the base of the waterfall. The pummeling of falls agains the water and rocks was meditative. Distractions couldn’t pierce the veil of water and sound that shrouded and calmed Caleb.

To never thirst again, he thought, and especially to swim as long as he liked whenever he liked were comforts he now took for granted. A fine mist cooled his skin as he now knelt by the rippling tide of the pool. Cupping his hands, he brought the cool, clear water to his lips and drank. A far cry from the metallic, discolored refreshments his metered tap once offered. His palms blanched as the water sapped their warmth. Living the city with it’s many amenities, and lights, and filth was no great loss to him.

The isolation he now enjoyed was a greater comfort than the endless bumping and squeezing through crowds. What’s more, the wealth of water and freedom he now enjoyed gave him a satisfaction he could only chase while seeking a means to survive in the city. Besides, what use was there for a pool operator? Given the droughts and omnipresent pollution, public and private pools were an obscene luxury by anyone’s reckoning. To contaminate a lake’s worth of fresh water with harsh chemicals and sweat and dirt was wasteful to the point of shame. Caleb’s maintainence and contracting business had folded years ago.

What pride he had lost at no longer drafting, designing and building he rekindled with his new homestead. A simple hut sat squat and sturdy along the back of the cave. Just beyond the door frame, a furnace and fire pit, and a single log for sitting. It struck Caleb some time ago that he felt much more protective of his new home than the on he’d left. His apartment, modest by cosmopolitan standards, was a marvel of technology and sophistication in comparison to his hut. Yet, he was proud of it, and a pervasive paranoia occupied the fringes of his thought most of the time.

Bent low at the waist, Caleb plodded along the narrow, lichenous path that winded through a the rock wall beside the falls. The air outside was warm, and humid. The calls of birds, and rustle of wind passing through tree limbs wove together with the crashing water. It was the anthem of Caleb’s home, the soundtrack to his chosen life. It made a sense of belonging stir in him, and a foreboding. He carried a knife with him always.

He kicked off his boots, and placed his shirt, jacket and pants on a fallen tree on the bank of the pond. From a small boulder, he leapt into the water, sinking to the jagged bottom and lingeribg there. He kept himself submerged until his lungs ached for air. Each day, he could keep himself under just that much longer.

He resurfaced, and simply floated until he grew restless. Upon dragging himself out of the plunge pool, he noticed something was amiss. Caleb’s eyes darted around, neck swiveling as he groped at the pockets of his pants. He thrust his fingers into the dry fabric and pulled the pockets inside out, his knife had gone missing. No, it had surely been stolen, Caleb thought. In all his days living beneath the falls, he’s never mislaid his knife, not once.

Suddenly, he became aware of his own nakedness. His thoughts urged him to forget about who it might offend, and to get himself back to the safety of the cave. Nevertheless, he tripped over himself as his clothes clung uncomfortably to his damp skin, nearly falling to the ground. The whole time, he continued peeking over his shoulders, despite discovering nothing with every look. Trudging, as his legs became weaker Caleb wrung his hands as he returned to the cave.

Crawling, he took each step with deliberate caution and control. His back slid along the wall of the tunnel as he peered into the chamber, and saw a man squatting and turning over a book in his hands. “Did you have a good swim, Caleb?” The stranger inquired. “I hope you considered all the plants, people, and animals it could sustain before you decided to take a dip.”

Caleb in fact, hadn’t. He felt a rush in his chest, a fury at having his home invaded. Yet he was also struck by his selfishness. A good citizen had a duty to render unto his neighbors whatever he could spare. An oasis like this would’ve been reported by any conscientious urbanite who’d stumbled across it on a hike. Only, this particular waterfall was situated miles from the nearest road, and there were no established trails that lead to it.

“Who are you? And why are you trespassing in my home?” Caleb asked, his left hand reflexively slipping into his pocket. Again, he lamented it’s emptiness. He no longer crept along the wall, but trod uncomfortably, keeping a distance between himself and the stranger.