Lake Jiben
Lexington, MA
2021, Senior, Creative Writing
The auctioneer always spoke rapidly, in a rhythmic motion that made any bidder scared to stop his flow of words.
“Who wants Jiben? Bidding starts at 25 million!”
A woman wearing a lavish dress, one of the many people attending in the arrays of tables, raised her sign. This was the main event of the night—after hours of sitting in the luscious garden, everyone had been made impatient by the summer heat. They’d already sold a variety of commodities, from small streams to swamp-like ponds. Today, August 25, 2040, was when they would auction off the last four freshwater lakes in the world.
All the bidders jolted upright after hearing Lake Jiben’s name. The lake stretched across 800 square miles. On the large projector screen at the front of the garden, the vibrant picture displayed made it look even more magnificent. The ripples along the small waves glistened against the sun. It looked perfectly undisturbed, unknowing that there was a price tag to its name.
“Terrific choice! Remember this is the only chance you’ll ever have for this offer. Do I see 30 million anywhere?”
This time, a rotund, older gentleman wearing an elegant monocle raised his sign.
“30 million! Do I have any other bidders?”
Out of the four lakes, this was the vastest and rumored to have enchanted powers. People said Lake Jiben’s water was aromatic and brisk to the touch. The old who visited it upheld that they felt youthful again. It was claimed that whoever drank the water could be cured of any disease. Of course, freshwater lakes were rare: even before these times, when there was a chance to salvage our water sources, only 3% of the water in the world was freshwater, and 2.5% of that was hidden.
Four others joined the bidding as the price continued to rise. As each person one-upped the other, the auctioneer would exclaim “Finally, will this be the last call for the lake?” But everyone knew he was waiting for more.
Out of those in attendance, three were from the largest water corporations in the world. Together, they controlled over 90% of distribution for drinkable water. Years ago, nitrates became so important in the agriculture industry that it was prevalent in every water source. As more and more water had become over-contaminated with industrial waste, it became evermore difficult to purify. In 2034, people stopped drinking directly from water sources. Two years after that, water from our facets were deemed unsafe for even washing. Instead, all things water came in packages controlled by the businesses, the only ones who could successfully complete the complex chemical and industrial processes to decontaminate it. Their drinking water, from the purely white capsule, always tasted the same—a slight metallic feel that washed over your tongue and left in 14 seconds. Now all three were competing, each wanting a chance for ownership over the most precious water source in the world.
“We have 50 million!”
The announcer spoke with pride, as if he previously owned Lake Jiben and was now giving down to the next generation. Thirty minutes had passed, and now each new hand raise produced a reaction from the crowd, a murmur of whispers, and more excitement.
As populations increased, demand for water did as well, granting the corporations more and more control over the lives of citizens. Soon, water scarcity and prices had risen, and mass amounts of people had become entrenched in poverty. Using this essential resource as leverage, the companies directed governments, favors with politicians, and obtained unspeakable profits. The reason was simple: without water, people could not survive. In the meantime, billions lacked access to water worldwide. No one could make clean water on their own because of the extensive effects of pollution and the cost of the process. Children died from inadequate sanitation when their families had no choice but to search beyond their daily packages brought in by the companies.
The price was at $80 million. Only two people remained.
They continued battling each other for the lake. Both bidders look flustered, calling over their assistants to withdraw more money from their banks. Finally, one woman boldly stood up and stated:
“100 million.”
The gasp of the crowd reflected the frenzy of the woman’s eyes, protruding from her face. She didn’t look at the announcer, the crowd, or the price. Instead, she solely stared into the image on the projection, looking into the lake, as if she was searching for something more prominent there. Her eyes were fixed on the cerulean water, a gem she now had to herself.
At that moment, the garden exploded with leaves as a man in battered clothing burst through the entrance to the tables. He was out of breath, with a crazed look on his face. An uneasy whisper swept across the garden as guests murmured to one another. The man struggled against security as they took him, claiming he had urgent news.
“It’s about Lake Jiben,” he disclosed.
Everyone was silent for a singular moment. Then the announcer spoke.
“What is it that required you to intrude into this private event?”
“Lake Jib—” he ran out of breath to finish the word. ”Lake Jiben is dried out.”
Reflection
Reflection
Jīběn (基本) in Chinese means fundamental or essential. My work was inspired by this perspective of viewing water as fundamental: no matter where we go in life, there are core values that will stick with us. Although humans often forget about these, our daily habits and questions always seem to return to these concepts. Similarly, water, as an essential resource, is vital for the earth and ourselves. In reality, my story isn't completely fiction: I learned that lack of access to water is a reality for two billion families around the world. Thus, I want to turn the privilege I experience everyday into an obligation to rectify climate change. While I personally did not feel like I contributed that significantly to pollution or environmental damage, I also realized I was doing nothing to combat climate change. Now, I'm determined to use my voice to warn of how individuals take actions. Just as I've become observant and adapting in the ways I use water in my daily life, I want my story to teach others to not act in ignorance; instead, to be able to remember and value this natural resource.