I decide that this is a good idea, and ransack the phone lists. Nothing on the paper list on the wall. Nothing on the paper list on the other wall. Nothing in the directory in the telephone.
"Dammit!" I say, and go skittering through the living room, moving more potentially water-damageable things out of harm's way.
"Did you call them?" Votania asks.
"I'm still looking for the number!" I yell. I finally find it in the caller ID log of incoming calls. I dial, and it rings forever. I get the machine, and write down the emergency pager number from the message, and dial.
I leave the apartment number on the pager, then dial again, and leave our phone number and the apartment number as well.
"I paged!" I say, and take another full bucket of water from Votania. The bathtub is not draining as fast as I would like; there's brown rusty water everywhere.
"It's too damn hot in here," Votania grouses. I open the patio door and close the screen. "Woman, go and put some clothes on," Votania adds.
I run to my room and pull on a pair of shorts and the first t-shirt I can find, then continue transferring water from the apartment complex's A/C to the sewer system, via our floor, a couple buckets, and the toilet.