Water pushed across the floor of the basement, gray paint loosening in large mushroom blooms, chips bubbling and floating away. The sump pump bobbed above the drainage pit as the pipe above it dripped steadily down the side wall, evolving into a flow that raced across one thousand square feet and lapped the stairs.

The house hadn’t been concerned with the basement, not until then, because the pump had been keeping up with the broken pipe and the winter thaw bleeding through cracks in the concrete walls. There was more concern for the other damaged pipe, the one under the kitchen sink, which was throwing water at a much faster rate, the faux-tile peeling and waving, encouraging the water into the family room, soaking the carpet and blistering the wood hidden underneath, seeping through the floor to add its contribution to the basement. The house kept telling itself someone would be home soon, the responsible someone who would shut the water down at the source and begin the messy task of bailing each bedroom, dragging water-marked furniture and moldy toys and toxic bedding outside.

But no one arrived. The house was on its own.

It hadn’t realized how inadequate and useless it really was. For years it had sheltered so many from weather and other disasters and thought itself a benevolent caretaker, holding its someones close inside its sturdy frame. But empty of occupants, the house could see how it needed them more than they needed it, for without people, no faucets were left open to drip a steady beat through the copper piping, the simple act of which would have prevented the current state of decay.

Later, the police would decide it was the outlet by the washer and dryer, the one the pump plugged into, that caused the power to give and probably triggered the call to 911. How else to explain the staticky line, the lack of response, the unanswered return call? From the state of the house, no one had been there for months. A neighbor mentioned a sudden change in income and possible flight south of the equator.

The house didn’t blame its former resident; it detested the winters, too. But it had tried so hard to comfort all of its someones throughout the harshest season. The fireplace was its favorite contribution. Even if it did cause a lot of work for the inhabitants, the house knew all of them had enjoyed it.

When the estimators began arriving, the house regretted asking for help. It knew no one would be willing to spend the time and money necessary to rebuild, especially after the insurance agent mentioned no one had re-upped the flood policy. If it had waited a little longer, everything would have fallen in of its own accord, and the house could have collapsed on its own terms. Now there would be an auction (unpaid taxes) and demolition, and the house wished it didn’t have to be a part of what was to come, namely a condominium or a discount store.

“Good bones,” the first contractor said. “But everything else has to go. You’ll have to send in the Hazmats first, though.” But the Hazmats couldn’t remove the mold floating like algae above the floors and creeping like vines down the walls until the water was removed, and the plumbers said water removal was not their job, which left the sketchy brothers who claimed to have a water-removal business, only they wouldn’t touch the place until the Hazmats got rid of the mold. Then there was the little problem of who was going to pay for it all, with no flood insurance and the estate owing back taxes and the bank pointing fingers at the estate and the estate saying not a damn thing because its representative was probably in some waterfront bar, trading lies with the locals.

The house was pleased the contractor considered its structure solid. Maybe there was hope yet it would not be razed to build some ridiculous structure to boost the town’s diminishing economy. But that could only occur if the water currently in the house was taken out of the house. Even good bones can rot, the house contemplated as the inspectors and contractors and insurance agents got in their vehicles and left for the day.

It wondered who else it could call.

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