Concrete Angel - The Bathroom Incident

Mrs. Turbler's face turned from shock, to understanding.

"Um, right, well we should get to work."

"Yes, we- we should- um yea." I said awkwardly, I got up only to fall down again. My legs felt like boiling noodles. But somehow I managed to stand up on my wobbly noodle legs. Now the problem was walking. I took one vacillating step, and collapsed. There were two desks on either side of me, I held onto them, and still I toppled over. My arms felt like they were ripped apart, stepped on, ran over by a bike, and branded by a cattle herder. All of those things actually happened to me in real life. Well, except the first and last ones. I winced in pain. I felt like screaming, but I knew that would freak Mrs. Turbler. I sucked up my pain and got up. I waited, I was going to take another step but I couldn't do it. I didn't want to experience that pain again. But I told myself: Just one step, one step, and you'll be closer to gone. So I took one step and I was closer to Mrs. Turbler. I took another and I made that one too. There were only three more steps to go and I knew I could make it. And I did. I walked over to Mrs. Turbler and her desk. She was on her computer.

"Okay I was thinking we should make sure if your father is alive. So I'm going to google him. If he is alive he must be on the internet. So I'm going to need his first, last, and middle name please."

I racked my brain of my father's name. All I remember is "dad" that's all that came to my mind. I never called him anything else. I never put much thought into his real name. Think, Madison. You know you've heard his real first and last name before. Just think! Where are those flashbacks when you need them? I thought.

"Well his last name is...McCauley."

Mrs. Turbler typed in his last name.

"You know honey; it would be a lot more help if you told me his first and middle name too."

"Well I would, if I remembered."

"C'mon you have to know. Can't you just flashback?" I shook my head vigorously. " Well at least try sweetheart."

"I am!" I screamed in frustration. "Trust me," my voice shook, " if I could remember I would tell you in a heartbeat. But I have tried, really. And I can't flashback in demand, I don't even like flashing into my past, it's painful."

"I know, I know. Just try one more time. For me?"

"No promises." For the first time in my life I actually wanted to flash. I squeezed my eyes tight. I thought hard and long. The name just flooded in front of my eyes. I slowly fluttered my eyes open. A smile slowly passed across my face.

"I got it. His name is Lucas Bradyn McCauley."

"Yes! Wonderful! See, I knew you could do it!" said Mrs.Turbler as she began typing away.

I sat in a desk for three hours. I was playing with an eraser I found on the ground, when Mrs. Turbler found my father.
"Well, he's definitely not dead. And I can't find much, but I did find his current address."

I sat up right. She had my full attention. She found him? He's alive? But one question still haunted me. Will he remember me? The words danced around in my head. My hope changed to disappointment. If he did I don't know what I'd do. I couldn't go back to Laura. She'd...oh my God; I think she would kill me for real this time. I shoved the thought aside.

" He lives in Orlando, Florida. That's a long way from here missy."

"Yea, it definitely is."

"Hhhmmmm. You know what? I think I should come with you. You know just to make sure you arrive safely. Is that alright? I mean once I see you at his door step I'll leave, so... is it okay if I come?" I smiled.

"Sure, I'd like the company. But the problem is, I don't have a passport, or enough money for a ticket."

"No worries sweetie. I'm all alone, I have plenty money for both of us. I wouldn't mind you taking it. And besides, I love to have that feeling I get once I know I'd helped someone."

"Oh! Thank you sooo much!" I hugged Mrs. Turbler. I pulled away from the hug (which kind of felt awkward by the way) to look at my watch. 7: 00 pm. Oh Shit. Laura's gonna be home any minute.

"It's late. I'm so sorry, Pam, if I'm not at home before Laura, she's gonna get suspicious, and she's supposed to be home any minute now, so I have to go. I'm so sorry." I grabbed my backpack and was about to walk out the door (again) when Mrs. Turbler called my name ( again). I turned quickly.

"Yes?"

"Why don't I drive you home? I drive pretty quick, and it's faster than walking." She didn't have to ask me twice.

"Yes! Oh thank you yes!"

"Alright then, let's skedaddle."

"Fantastic." We ran to her car and we ended up beating Laura by minutes. I tried to act natural by lying down on the couch. But it didn't matter what I did. She just threw her coat at me and continued upstairs. I took a deep heavy breath. I took her coat and threw it into the coat closet. I tiptoed up into my room, but I was caught by Laura.

"I don't care who you were with, and what you were doing. But your punishment is cleaning...my...bathroom. And I want it done by tomorrow night. I don't want to see you when you do it, I don't want to even hear you cleaning my bathroom. And when I get back from work tomorrow, I want it spotless. Understand? Good."

Laura turned and left to her sanctum. I was in so much fear. Laura's bathroom is like a black whole. One time I had to clean it, well it was not a pretty sight. There was mold, and mildew everywhere. Laura is a pig. A nasty, filthy pig. I sighed. I'm not going to be able to plan my escape with Mrs. Turbler tomorrow if I have to clean that...that sty. I sighed heavily and went to my boring plain room. I decided to work up a plan. I grabbed a piece of collage ruled line paper from my packpack and started sketching a plan. It was a way to clean Laura's bathroom and get to school to plan my escape with Pam.

I woke up this morning by the silent alarm clock in my head. I had the plan memorized in my head. Time to engage step number one. I knew this morning that Laura would be at "work" (aka flirting with old men and occasionally sleeping with customers) early. I know made me gag too. I had to go with her to work when I was little. And, well I had a horrible experience. At the time I had no idea what she was doing. But when sixth grade came along and we had to watch "the movie" I was scarred. I made my way to Laura's room. I cleaned it every Sunday. But I would never dare enter her throne. But now I had full permission.

I was so-called over-joyed. I had to clean her bathroom once- ad a punishment again, I never really understood how it was a punishment. I never thought much about it. Until I actually entered the nasty garbage throne. This time I was prepared. I had the hamper pin in my pocket. I was going to use it as a nose plug. I had sterilized yellow gloves, I had tongs to pick up any "used" items (you know those UN mentionable items), I had rain boots on - just in case. I was set. I walked the hall slowly and quietly. I paused at the bathroom door. I made some adjustments. I put the pin on my nose, the gloves on my hands, the boots on my feet, and I had the tongs at the ready. The cleaning equipment was under the sink. I put them there the first time just in case Laura ever wanted to tidy up herself. I took a deep breath and put my hand on the knob. I jiggled it and entered the bathroom.

"Oh-My-God." I said aloud. It was worse than last time. It looked like...like a dump. There were used tampons spread all over the toilet, there was hair all over the sink, there was spilled hair products all over the counter, there was makeup scattered every where, there was used towels covering the floor, the trashcan was over flowing with pads, broken hair bands, cheap perfume bottles, food, and mold. I didn't dare look in the shower. Who knows what's stored in there. I literally gagged at the sight of it. I fixed my eyes to her mirror. It had mildew spreading all over, lipstick stains, a tie hung on the medicine cabinet (I didn't even want to look inside the cabinet), there was grime, dirt and-I squinted what is that? I don't think I want to find out. I don't even know where to start. I did eeny meeny miney moh.

The toilet won. I lifted up the seat. I almost threw up. There was a left over douse. Good Lord! I flushed the toilet, but toilet paper and more poop came up. I shuttered. I un-clogged the toilet and filled the toilet water with disinfectant. I grabbed a sponge and started cleaning the rim of the toilet. I had a lot of work to do. I grabbed the tongs and started emptying the trashcan into a heavy duty trash bag. I put all the trash into a trashcan up front. I made my way up to the bathroom again and grabbed all the towels. I found false teeth in one of them. I quickly dropped it on the floor, suddenly even more grossed out than before. I quickly tossed the towels in the washer and turned it on. I reluctantly walked back to the bathroom and started on the counter. The counter was easy. All I had to do is use some bleach and sponge with some water. Simple. But when I tried to clean up the make up, well I ended up having my first makeup lesson. The makeup goes on your face, not your clothes. What? Your surprised I haven't worn makeup before, nonetheless learn to apply it? Well if you live with Laura, nothing is allowed to be prettier than her.

I'm serious one time one of her "boyfriends" got her flowers. She immediately took them out of his hands and was supposed to put them in a vase. But I knew better because she threw them in the trash. No Lie. Okay the bathroom was looking good so far. All I had to do is do the mirror, the medicine cabinet, and the shower. I shuddered. I grabbed the Windex and paper towels and hit the mirror. It was simple. Nothing went wrong. Believe me I think it's safe to say that the mirror was the easiest to clean. I sighed I've been dreading this very part. Debating between the medicine cabinet and the shower. I turned around in a circle and held my hand out. When I stopped spinning my hand was pointing at the medicine cabinet. I took a deep breath and held the handle. I yanked it open and screamed and my hand flew to my heart. A mouse was nibbling on Laura's toothpaste. I caught my breath. It's alright Madison. I told myself. She has stored things much worse in there. I'm not kidding. She's had a used condom in there, molding... God knows what, and more. Suddenly I heard a soft moan. I froze.

"Ohhhh..." moaned the mysterious someone. The mouse squeaked in horror.

"Yeah I know little one," I said to the mouse. "I'm scared too." I cogitated deeply whether or not I should check the shower if anyone was in there. I paced back and forth through the bathroom.

"Should I?" I asked the mouse. It squeaked, frightened. I bit my nail. "But one of us has to do it." I reasoned. The mouse just shook its head. I raised an eyebrow. "How do you know what I'm saying?" I asked. The mouse just looked at me blankly. "I can't believe I'm talking to a mouse! You know what I'm going to look. It's not like its Laura."

The mouse squeaked but I waved my hand dismissively. I walked up to the shower. I was about to pull the curtain, but I hesitated. Then I took a deep breath and pulled open the curtain and door. I gasped. Well it certainly not Laura. It was a grown man. He was sitting in the shower. He held a bottle of beer in his hand and had tousled dark brown hair. He was wearing a suit and dress shoes. He looks like he has a hang over. He also looks like he just woke up. He has bags under his eyes, and a pale, thoughtless expression.

"Um, sir?" I asked politely. But all I got was a grumble.

"Do you need help sir?" I asked. Nothing, not even a moan, nonetheless a nod. Maybe he didn't hear me. "Sir?" I asked a little louder. Nothing. "Sir!" I shouted.

"Shhh!" the man put his index finger up to his mouth. I got mad. I was just trying to help and you shush me? Oh hell no. I smiled. Fine you want me to be quiet? I'll show you how I play quiet. I thought.

"DO YOU NEED MY HELP? DO-WHAT? I'M NOT SURE IF YOU HEARD ME EARLIER, BUT I OFFERED HELP IF YOU NEEDED IT!" The man shushed me once again, but more urgently.

"Be quiet!" The man said in a whisper. I nodded. I leaned toward him and whispered as he did.

"Do you need help sir? I could give you some food and water...I could help you up. "The man nodded and stretched out his arms. I smiled in accomplishment. I grabbed his arms and started to pull. I grunted, man he's heavy. I got him up. When he was up, he clasped his hand to his mouth. I recognize that look from when Laura had hangovers. I led the man to the toilet - the one I just cleaned. I backed out of his way. His head looked like it was going to fall into the toilet, so I held his forehead as I've done so many times to Laura. His forehead was sweaty and disgusting. He smelled like cologne mixed with B.O. and something else, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Not that I'd want to. When he finally finished throwing up, I grabbed a piece of toilet paper and wiped his mouth.

"I'm going to go get that water for you. Just stay here will you?" I whispered. The man just nodded. I hurried over to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water. I entered the bathroom just to find the man throwing up whatever's left in his stomach. I set the glass of water on the counter and hurried toward the poor man. I held his sweaty forehead again. When he was finished I wiped his mouth again. I flushed the toilet, and put the seat down. I had the man sit down, then I gave him the glass of water I filled for him. I watched him as he downed the water quick and fast. He didn't even stop for air, he just consumed the water. I watched in amazement. He finally finished, then whispered two more words.

"More water." He shoved the glass at me and twirled me around to go. I ran to the kitchen and did as I was told. When I came back he was still sitting on the toilet looking awful. I gave him the glass and he downed that just as quickly as the first. When he finished he was gasping for air, looking better already. I took the glass from his hand.

"Thank you." He said meaningfully.

"No problem. But can I ask you, what is your name?"

"Nathan Harding. What's yours?"

"Mine is Madison McCauley."

"Beautiful name Madison. What grade are you in?"

"Sophomore." His eyebrows rose.

"My son is a sophomore, his name is Logan, do you know him?" I thought for a moment. Logan, Logan, Logan I chanted in my head.

"Yes. I know him; he's in my Literature class. "

"Fantastic. I should get you two together," his eyes narrowed," wait a minute, aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"I - uh, yes. Erm, well I had to clean Laura's bathroom in order to do something after school." I explained

"Uh huh, I see, and Laura's your mother? She didn't mention she had a child."

"That doesn't surprise me." I mumbled. Mr. Harding nodded his head in understandment. Then his face flickered to a confusing emotion.

"Madison, how did you know what to do when I have a hangover?"

"Well Laura had hang over's most of the time, so I guess it's just instinct. "

"Well Madison, you are one incredible girl." He held my right hand. I winced.

"What happened to your hand, Madison?" I didn't want the flashback to the day. So I just closed my eyes tight.

"Laura." I mouthed.

"Well, I'm sure it was an accident." Said Mr. Harding. I just shook my head and got up. When I took my first step, he caught my right hand. I grunted.

"Oh, sorry, I just wanted to say thank you. I think I'll be getting home now. I'm pretty sobered up, and I need to get to work. I'll see you around Madison." Mr. Harding got up, and made his way out Laura's room.

"See you around." I sighed. That man was one of the people who would talk to me. I made my way back to the bathroom an started on the cabinet and shower.

It was one o'clock when I finished Laura's bathroom. I only have a half hour to get to class.

"Shit." I looked down at my appearance. I was still in my pjs.