Anas Wants to Know Where the Bathwater Goes

Anas loved bath time. He loved the warm water up to his tummy. He loved the bubbles that smelled like oranges. And he loved his little yellow tugboat, which went chug, chug, chug across the tub whenever he pushed it.

But his favorite part of all came at the very end.

When bath time was over, Mama pulled the plug. Then the water began to turn. Slowly at first, then faster and faster, it spun around and around in a little whirlpool. It made a funny sound, too. Glug, glug, gluuuurp. And then, the water was gone.

One evening, wrapped in his fluffy green towel, Anas stared at the empty tub.

"Mama," he said, "where does the bathwater go?"

Mama was hanging up the washcloth. "Down the drain," she said.

"But where does the drain go?"

Mama smiled. "That is a very good question. Let's ask Baba tomorrow. He knows a lot about pipes."

The next morning was Saturday. Baba was in the kitchen, making eggs. Anas pulled on his sleeve.

"Baba, where does the bathwater go after the drain?"

Baba turned off the stove. He crouched down until his eyes were level with Anas's eyes. "Do you want to find out?" he asked. "Like explorers?"

Anas nodded so hard that his hair bounced.

Baba went to get a flashlight. Then he opened the little cupboard under the kitchen sink. Anas had never looked inside before. Baba shone the flashlight in.

"Look," said Baba. "See that pipe? It goes down from the sink, and then it bends like the letter U, and then it goes into the wall."

"Why does it bend?" asked Anas.

"The bend keeps a little bit of water inside, all the time," said Baba. "That water is like a tiny door. It stops bad smells from coming back up."

Anas was amazed. A door made of water!

"Now," said Baba, "let's go outside."

They put on their jackets and went out into the garden. Baba walked along the side of the house until he found a fat grey pipe coming out of the wall near the ground. It went down into the earth, next to a round metal cover.

"All the pipes in our house meet together," said Baba. "The bath, the kitchen sink, the washing machine. They all join into this one big pipe. And this big pipe goes under the ground, all the way to the street."

Anas looked at the ground. He imagined a long tunnel down there, with water running through it like a secret river.

They walked to the front gate and looked down the street. In the middle of the road was a much bigger round metal cover.

"Under that," said Baba, "is an even bigger pipe. All the houses on our street send their water there. Then it joins other pipes from other streets, and it travels and travels until it reaches a special place outside the city."

"What kind of place?"

"A cleaning place," said Baba. "There, big machines and tiny helpers clean the water. They take out the soap and the dirt and everything else. When the water is clean again, it goes into the river."

Anas's eyes grew wide. "My bathwater goes into the river?"

"After it is cleaned, yes," said Baba.

Anas thought about this all morning. He thought about it while he ate his eggs. In the afternoon, he went to find Grandpa Munir, who was reading in his chair by the window.

"Grandpa," said Anas, "what happens to the water in the river?"

Grandpa Munir closed his book and smiled. "Ah, the river," he said. "The river runs all the way to the sea. And when the sun shines on the sea, the water gets warm. Some of it rises up into the sky, so light that you cannot even see it."

"Into the sky?" said Anas.

"Yes. High up, it gets cold, and the little bits of water gather together and make clouds. And when the clouds get too heavy..."

"It rains!" shouted Anas.

"It rains," Grandpa agreed. "The rain falls on the mountains and the fields and the rooftops. Some of it runs into the lakes. People collect it and clean it and send it through pipes back into our houses."

"Back to our bathtub?"

"Back to our bathtub," said Grandpa Munir. "And our kitchen sink. And the glass of water by your bed."

Anas sat down on the rug. He felt like his head was full of rivers and clouds.

"So the water goes around and around," he said slowly. "Like the whirlpool in the bath."

Grandpa laughed. "Exactly like that. Only much, much bigger."

That night, at bath time, Anas sat in the warm water and looked at it very carefully. He pushed his little yellow tugboat across the bubbles. Chug, chug, chug.

"Mama," he said, "this water has been in the sea."

"Has it?" said Mama, smiling.

"Yes. And in a cloud. And maybe in a river with fish in it."

When bath time was over, Mama pulled the plug. The water began to turn. Glug, glug, gluuuurp. This time, Anas leaned close and waved.

"Goodbye, water," he said. "Have a nice trip to the sea. Say hello to the clouds."

Afterward, he stood on his little stool at the sink to brush his teeth. Mama turned on the tap. The water ran and ran into the basin while Anas scrubbed. And suddenly, Anas stopped brushing.

He reached out and turned the tap off.

"Why did you do that?" asked Mama.

Anas spoke with a mouth full of foam. "Because the water has such a long way to go," he said. "It has to go to the cleaning place, and the river, and the sea, and the sky, and the clouds, and the rain, and the pipes. If I let it run for nothing, it has to make the whole trip for nothing."

Mama laughed and kissed the top of his head. "You are right," she said. "That is very kind to the water."

From that night on, Anas turned off the tap while he brushed his teeth. He reminded Baba to turn it off while he shaved. He even put a little bucket in the garden to catch the rain, so he could water Grandpa Munir's plants with it.

And every time it rained, Anas pressed his nose to the window and watched the drops sliding down the glass.

"Welcome home," he would whisper. "I wonder where you have been."