On the third day without running water, Lejla washed the guesthouse cups from a plastic jug. Her husband Kenan sat beside the phone, assuring a family due that afternoon that the pool would be ready. She told him to stop making promises. They had enough water in the bathroom for basic washing, but little else. Kenan covered the receiver with his palm and whispered that a cancellation would swallow the entire week's earnings.
Their neighbors had collected money for a water tanker. They agreed the driver would stop where the street widened and fill the containers they had prepared, one after another. Kenan offered his courtyard for the large vehicle to turn around. When she heard the engine, Lejla carried two empty buckets to the gate. An elderly neighbor with a trolley was already waiting, along with the young woman from next door and several people still in work clothes who had hurried home.
She went back for the money they still owed. Through the kitchen window, she saw a thick hose hanging over the edge of the pool. Kenan stood beside the driver, indicating how high it should be filled. When she questioned him, he answered that the rest would be distributed. Confused, the driver said he had understood that the pool was a communal reservoir. Lejla looked at the steps in the water and the white loungers beside them. "It isn't," she said. "Our guests swim here."
Kenan called her behind the house. He said he would pay his share and nobody would be left entirely without water. Beyond the fence, they could hear a neighbor asking somebody to save her place. Lejla thought of all their morning conversations, when she had cursed the dry taps alongside that woman. She returned to the driver and asked him to stop filling the pool. She did not touch valves she knew nothing about. She simply remained beside him until the water stopped flowing.
She opened the gate wide. People saw the pool and started shouting before she finished explaining. Kenan offered to cover the entire cost, but the neighbor with the trolley said money would not wash their dishes. The remaining water was distributed in smaller quantities than people had expected. Kenan ordered another delivery for the street. They would have to wait until tomorrow, and nobody thanked him.
The family who had booked rooms arrived toward evening. Lejla showed them the pool and explained why they would not be opening it. They accepted a lower price and went for a walk. Kenan did not speak to her all evening. As they later folded the loungers, he said she had humiliated him in front of customers. Lejla lifted the last lounger, still perfectly dry. "Tomorrow you're carrying water to the lady at the end of the street," she said. "I promised her she wouldn't have to come down again."