Leo dragged the heavy bucket to the village well. His small arms shook with the weight.
His father squeezed his shoulder and smiled. Leo wiped his brow and looked toward his wooden house. A single lantern glowed in the window.
That night Leo sat by the lantern light. The blueprint lay spread across the table. He traced the shape of a water pump with his finger.
Leo hammered a nail into the wooden frame, then another. The nail bent and fell into the dust. He picked it up, straightened it, and tried again.
He pulled the handle of his pump. Nothing happened. He pulled again. Still nothing.
On the third pull, water shot out — wild and cold — soaking the whole table. Leo jumped back, water dripping from his nose, and burst out laughing.
Water dripped from his nose. He couldn't stop laughing. His pump worked.
The next morning the whole village came to see. Children pressed their hands under the spout and cheered.
Clean water flowed into the well. The children splashed and cheered all morning.
Leo stood beside his pump. His face was streaked with dried mud, but his grin never faded. The water kept flowing.