Chapter 6

Anthony is a big boy. He's on the defensive line on the varsity football team and can just plow through anyone to get to whoever has the ball. He weighs in at close to two and a half times my 115 pounds. He was watching me as a fly might watch a spider. A fly that was stuck in that spider's web.

I went over to the nightstand next to him and got a wash dish. A wash dish is a plastic container that holds about a half gallon of water. Kind of like a meat loaf pan with some curves. I guess he thought it was something similar to the dreaded bedpan.

"What's that thing?"

"A wash dish. It's made to hold water and not tip over."

"Oh. You're really serious about this bath thing, aren't you?"

"Of course. You're starting to stink. This is a hospital. Can't have germs all around."

He didn't look real happy with the stink comment, but he couldn't say a whole lot about it. When you take an athletic male and put him in a football game, then make him sweat while you're forcing his collarbone back into place, then let him stew in his juices overnight, he's going to produce some body odor. That's the way bacteria operate, like it or not.

I went into the bathroom and got the temperature of the water comfortably warm, then filled the wash dish all but an inch. I took it back out to the room and set it down on the bed table we use to put meals on. A trip to the nightstand produced a sponge and a squeeze bottle of antibacterial soap. By the time I came back from the bathroom with a clean towel, Anthony was as far to the side of the bed away from me as he could get.

"Come on, Bubba. Don't tell me you're afraid of a sponge and some soap."

"It's not that. You're a girl. And you're going to see me naked."

"I'm a volunteer here at the hospital and I've been assigned the job of cleaning you up. If you'd rather, I can get Don to give you your bath. He's one of the orderlies. I hear he really likes guys."

"Yucch. I guess you can do it."

"It's just a bath, Anthony. I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know. It's just embarrassing."

"Well, just pretend I'm one of your teammates and we're in the shower together."

"Oh, God. That's even worse."

I reached over for the blankets.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to pull the blankets down to your waist so I can start your bath. Now let go of them before I have to slap your hands."

I got the covers down to his stomach, then helped him to sit up. I ignored his protests and got his gown off him. I supported his back as he sat up, but it was still a strain. I let him lean back on the raised bed after I had removed the gown. He held the blankets tightly to his front, just below his stomach.

I felt the water and it was still pleasantly warm. I got the sponge saturated, then squeezed out a lot of the water.

Anthony's chest is strong. He has a light sprinkling of hair and his chest is similar to that of a gorilla; twin mounds, not like a woman's breast but hills sculpted out of muscle.

I held the sponge up to his chest and squeezed a little of the soap onto his chest above it. I used the sponge to work it onto his skin from just below the splint to just above the blanket he was holding tightly to his body.

Now that he was lathered up, I put the sponge into the wash dish and used my hands to rub his chest, luxuriating in the feel of his muscles beneath my fingers.

"What are you doing?"

"Washing your chest. Does it bother you?"

"No. It feels good."

"It feels good to me, too. I could do this all day."

I did it a while longer, then got the soap out of the sponge and wiped off the soap on his chest and took my time drying him with the towel. I moved everything within reach, then raised up the bed, and had Anthony lean forward against my hand. Heavy boy.

After lowering the bed to give me some room, I wet his back quickly and squeezed some soap on it. My arm in front was hurting from the weight, and the last thing I wanted to do was have him fall forward and have to use his arms to stop his fall. That would do wonders for his broken collarbone. I used the sponge to wash his back, got rid of the soap and dried him. I got the bed back up and him back on the bed just before my arm gave out.

He leaned back and smiled at me. "That wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be."

"I'm sure it wasn't. It was probably a lot harder for me because I had to support you. But I won't have to worry about that for the rest of you."

"What do you mean, the rest of me?"

"Come on, Bubba. Since when have you only washed half your body when you took a bath."

"Aw, come on, Nancy. You're being mean."

"Bubba, you're almost twenty years old. You're acting like an eight year old boy whose aunt walked in on him after he just got out of the tub. Now let me lift up the sheet so I can do your legs. You can still keep your privates covered for a while. Let me get some fresh water and then we can start."

I went into the bathroom and rinsed out the bowl, filling it with warm water. When I came out and told him I was ready to start, he shrugged and let me pull the bottom of the sheet up. He held it as if afraid someone was going to rip it out of his hands if he gave them the chance. I'd gotten a towel while I was in the bathroom and I opened it up, placing it underneath his legs.

The only time I've had hair on my legs has been from letting it go a day or two too long without shaving. I was fascinated with the curly blond hairs all the way up and down his legs, matted down in the area his sweat socks normally covered. So fine, hard to grab but so smooth as they slid between my thumb and fingers.

The hair sped up the development of lather when I rubbed the liquid soap on his legs. Like his chest, the muscles were very apparent as I massaged them. Different muscles, but I was learning his whole body was a wealth of differences and similarities. Once the fronts of his legs were washed and dried, I told him to lift up his knees and washed the other side. Still full of muscles, but a whole different set than on the front. Since his legs were bent, I could see and feel the cords going up and down the side of each thigh. I realized that this gentle man could crush my head like a walnut between his legs if he so chose. Or he could wrap his legs around mine and make me feel safe. And loved.

I came back to the present and used the sponge to get the soap off his legs. His muscles felt different as I held each leg inside the towel, using both hands to dry them. I pressed the button to lower the bed so it was flat.

"How do you feel, Bubba?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is your collarbone bothering you?"

"No, I haven't got any attention on it."

"Good. I'm going to go get some fresh water. You know what's left to do."

"I know."

I pulled the towel out from under his legs and held it up for him.

"I need you to get this under your butt while I'm in there. Go ahead and roll over on your side facing that way so I can do your butt first."

The look on his face told me he wasn't thrilled with the idea but had accepted that it was going to happen whether he liked it or not.

"All right. I'll be ready for you."

"Just remember, if it hurts, don't push it. I can help you if you need it."

Anthony was on his side, his back toward the bathroom door as I came back into the room.

"Did you do OK?"

"Yeah. It only hurt a little."

"Anthony! I don't want it to hurt at all. Are you all right now?"

"I'm fine."

I lifted up the covers slowly, exposing his body. He tensed up as his buttocks were revealed. The towel was underneath him but needed straightening out, which I did.

"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you."

I wet the sponge and used it on his left hip and his backside. Since he was lying on his right side, I couldn't do that hip yet. I squirted some soap on the hip and used the sponge to lather him up.

He was still clenching his butt cheeks together so I put the sponge in the wash dish and got my hand soapy by rubbing it over the hip and cheeks.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm washing you. What does it feel like?"

I went over the already soaped area some more and then tried to wedge my hand between the cheeks. If anything, he held them tighter together.

"Hey. Relax. I'm not going to hurt you, Bubba."

He let up a bit and I was able to get inside and wash a bit. I squirted some more soap on my hand to get the inside cleaner. He was still fighting it, so I did what I had to, then started to rinse the soap off. I guess he figured it was inevitable and allowed me to rinse the soap out of his crack when I got to that point. He didn't fight me at all when I used the towel to dry him.