Chapter 10

"Ya owe me twenty bucks," said the three hundred pound ball of dusty grimy fat ... she of the three clean spots. "Lessen' you want me to sic my daughter on ya."

"What ma?"

The mother ... bless her heart ... was svelte and slim compared to the 17 year old under Frank ... in the same bed.

"Well, I can't pay you with you laying on my arm," I said ... thinkin, 'I hope my wife never finds out!'

Tubby rolled over ... at least as far as she could, what with Frank and the 17 year old ... Tubby had shit the bed.

The smell ... oh God!

I jumped up and the odor ... and the used alcohol hit me ... my head split wide open and dribbled my brain out both ears ... but I didn't fall down.

"Mom, where's your Depends?" asked the 17 year old. There was a full Depends tangled up in the sheets at the foot of the bed ... my feet had just come from those sheets.

It looked for all the world like a shack and I guess it was but there was a Motel sign I could see through the window.

'Motel ... bathroom ... bathroom ... shitter ... shitter ... fuck... ' in between each separate thought, my life passed before my eyes and even as bad as I hurt I saw the john door ... instinct and muscle memory moved my feet ... they were slippery ... I made it.

Everything I'd had to eat for a week was smiling at me and then the dry heaves hit while I was sitting.

'What IS that awful smell?!?' I was still gagging when I realized it was me. The realization didn't help one little bit.

I threw back the shower curtain and the three little girls squealed, "MOM!"

The 17 year old shouted, "What?"

"There's a naked white man in our room!"

"He probably wants a shower."

"Not in my bed," said the oldest. She looked like the oldest anyway.

"He's got shit on his feet," hollered the baby. She might have been four ... maybe ... it was hard to tell.

'That's the reason I feel like I'm skating ... thin ice too, ' I thought.

I didn't want to look.

I knew I shouldn't look.

Looking would be bad.

I looked.

Yeah ... bad.

"You girls get out of that shower ... right now. Take your quilts with you!" I said.

"Mom!" in three part harmony. Mom was drawn out and sounded like three words and these girls had it down pat.

"Five,"

"Four,"

"Three,"

"Two."

"We're going, we're going," said the middle child. "You can stop counting, white eyes."

And they were ... grabbing pillows, blankets and quilts. The oldest said, "Watch where you're stepping ... land mines!"

Soon enough they were out and I was standing in the tub with the shower running rusty red alkali water that started out cold and got colder before it got warm. Warm being entirely unrelated to the temperature of the water. It was warmer than it was at the start.

Alkali water and soap don't mix but I was more interested in getting the shit off my feet than getting clean. There was a grayish toilet brush that still had a few bristles. I used it.

The gushes and air bubbles in the pipes had done a good job painting me rusty and it wasn't washing off. All it did was smear.

I missed the land mines getting out and getting dressed.

The middle kid looked at my rusty red body and asked, "Hey, injun' what did you do with the white eyes?"

The girls laughed ... I didn't.