Locker Room Blues

Notes from “Need a Mop” by Lui

Date: Sunday, July 15, 1984   |    Location: Annadale Dojo-Locker Room

“It’s okay, Freckles. You gotta get all that outta there, girl.”

The scent of jasmine and bile assault my senses as I feel my hair being pulled back and a hand gently rubbing my back. 

“We in the wrong positions, Duckie. ‘Spose to be the one holdin’ yo hair over the toilet.”

I keep my eyes closed and hiccup before spitting more red and black bile into the murky water. I feel a chunk of what I assume is another piece of organ. I want to get to my feet, yet I feel halfway wet and a lot bit crusty all over my body.

“Aye…Duckie. Why I’m all wet and crusted over? Someone pull’a prank on me? Did I get drunk?”

I hear the sympathetic smile in her voice.

“No, you know you don’t drink. Like, you kind of threw up all your insides everywhere and…well…you, like, you pooped your pants.”

“Fuck is you talkin’? I ain’t shit my pants like you did on your birthday.”

“Look here, Freckles! You said you wouldn’t bring that up again! I was wasted and thought it was a poot, you jerk! Well, guess what! Now we twins, so get ready for me to remind you about the time you shit your intestines out…literally! Now, come on! Upsy-daisy. You desperately need a shower.”

I was shocked at how easily Andrea pulled me up. I weighed two hundred pounds and was six foot two; she is five foot six  and goes to the gym for three days for thirty minutes. Ain’t no way she could do that; maybe helping her best-friend gave her the strength of an ox.

“Hell you get so strong, Drea?”

Andrea chuckles softly as we shuffle out of the stall into the cool locker room. Strange. I don’t shiver or feel goosebumps on my flesh. I don’t feel the warmth of her skin. I don’t feel the warmth of mine.

“I got to be strong…for you. Like you’ve always been for me. Like when you fought that thing at Petra’s; got my baby, Boo, out alive. Got his sister out alive. Someone has to make sure you are alive too, Freckles, in whatever capacity that is.”

Damn prisoners escaping their cells again as we cross the room to the shower stalls. Are they wearing red like they did in the dojo? Red because I’m…I’m…

“I’m a fucking vampire, Duckie! I shit out my whole insides and cry blood because Imma fuckin’ vampire! A wight-thang treated ya like a fuckin’ juicebox, and I couldn’t do much! I couldn’t fuckin’ save ya! Ol’ boy said he couldn’t even save ya! Nan one bit’a blood to give ya! Like we all ain’t wanna live! I’d rather y’all live and be great out there! …you was gon’ save lives! Fuck was I gon’ do? Build a car? Be a dumb ass mechanic foreva? Shit! You was ‘spose ta make it, Duckie! Shit ain’t fair! It ain’t right!”

“Oh hush, now. You of all people know life ain’t fair. Only God knows when we are supposed to go, and…well…hell…it was my time. None of us could’ve known that was going to happen, Freckles. This sucks, like…it really sucks big old, nasty, musty balls! I wanted to live and see us do big things! Have our kids grow up together and be best-friends like we are, but…but…”

“Now don’tcha get ta cryin’! I’m already strugglin’ ta keep it togetha wit’ out’cha! Jus’...forgive me! I couldn’t save ya! I thought after Boo hit that crazy fuker wit’ a TV, he could grab ya and go, ya know? Maybe if I was fast’a and strong’a; I coulda put’a hurtin’ on’em and gotcha ta safety. I’m sorry, Drea.”

Of course her old crybaby ass was cryin’; we can be some old soft ass individuals sometimes. We can weep together tonight as she helps me break lockers to find towels and toiletries. The end of sniffles and dawn of  silence between raises my anxiety. She knows I’m a straight shooter. I need to know if I need to spend forever groveling at her feet or not; I’ll do it for her. She didn’t deserve to have her neck ripped open and blood leaking. 

“Ty, I can’t say right now. It’s all fresh, you know. But, I’m here. For you. Like we pinky promised at our first slumber party in the tenth grade. That’s all I can do right now.”

She hands me the items to get cleaned up. I set them inside one of the showers and headed back to the stall I occupied earlier without her. I can’t get all clean to get dirty again; if I’m honest, I don’t think I can handle her rejection…her inability to forgive me. I speak without looking at her as I grab more towels.

“Sure. Time. I gotcha.” I start wiping up my insides on the outside. Making sure my intestines and lungs and heart and all my other organs are placed in a random bag I found. Drea rolls up with a large trash can and a toolbox.

“Peace offering, Freckles?” She holds it out to me, but I can’t make eye contact just yet. I pat the ground beside me.

“You already know ain’t no static on this end, Andrea. Can ya get me a bucket and mop? Gon’ need it aft’a I fix the bowl.”

I hear Andrea sigh heavily, she knows I feel a way, before the sound of her  heels fade into the distance. Good! I need a moment to do something comforting. Building things, taking things apart, or just plain old fixin’ things does my heart well. I know it’ll give me a little piece from this nightmare. 

“Thanks, Andrea.”

“Oh it’s like that, Miss Wyche-Key? Are we all  formal now? Look, I can’t help but need a little bit, Ty. I just had my fucking throat ripped out by an alien monstrosity that slashed Petra, hurt my best-friend, and slammed it’s whole first through her body! That’s a lot to process! AAANNND! It all happened on the day I finally got accepted to Fairfax Hospital. That’s, like, some insane shit! From raving and chilling, to a damn horror movie in mere minutes…mere seconds. And, and, like,...”

I hear her knees hit the floor as she wails and holds herself. I don’t know what to do. What to say. What can I say? Sorry your whole life was snatched from you? Sorry Jason Li didn’t feel ya worthy enough of savin’? No, that’s dumb. I know her too well; she gotta  get all that pain and sorrow out of there before we can talk again, so I finish fixing the commode before getting up to clean the mess. By the time I get done, I glance back to see her watching me with coffee colored, almond eyes.

“I can finish that, Freckles. You go and clean yourself up. I’ll be here when you get out.”

“Promise?” I stick out my pinkie finger behind me; I pray she will connect hers with mine. 

She does! I damn near fall apart. On some level, maybe we are still as close as I hope we are.

“Promise.”

I hand her the mop and head to the shower I left open. The blast of warm water against my skin, being out of her presence for a spell, gives me a little bit of relief as I come to terms with what this is. I’m dead as a doornail but alive in some way; Boo and Petra are alive, but don’t remember anything. Drea is…she dead, but Jason said he’ll try to get me some of her ashes. Okay, maybe I can keep her with me forever. Let her see my adventures and, and how I make this life worth living. Make her feel okay with living life through me.

“Hey, Drea, Jason, the guy that saved me and cleaned everythang  up, said he could get me’a piece of ya to take wit’ me. Would ya like if I took ya wit’me wherev’a  I go? You could still see the world and travel wit’ me like we said we would. I don’t wantcha ta miss’a thang. Oh! First thang I gotta show ya is this room in the dojo that look like’a beautiful sky. I can’t see the sun no’mo’, but, dammit, that piece of sky is somethin’ else!”

“Yeah, just, like, give me a little time to get  used to…all this like you got to, Freckles. I see you are not in your feelings anymore.”

“Look-a-here! I…I gotta be in the worl’ wit’outcha. I don’t think I could take it if ya ain’t speakin’ ta me from beyond, hell, I think I woulda been okay if he would let me di…”

“SHUT THE HELL UP THAÏS WYCHE-KEY! I don’t want to hear any more of that nonsense! You gon’ take your big ass out of here and live life to the fucking fullest for the both of us! One of us made it out, so one of us gotta make our dreams a reality. Okay?! You gotta do it for you. For Boo. For Petra. For me!”

I ain’t never felt so small in my entire life than when she hollers at me as I turn off the shower and start drying myself.

“Okay, god damn! You ain’t gotta holla at me, Duckie! It’s just, you my best-friend in this world and now you ain’t in it. It’s…it’s not..well hell. Fine! FINE! I’m gon’ do the damn thang for us, aight? For all’a us. First thing I gotta do is get a robe on an’ get some clothes.”

She steps up to the shower curtain and places her hand against it. I turn. I stare at the outline of her hand before my green eyes jump down to my own. I hesitate, yet I can’t resist the last piece of comfort I’ll get from my best-friend, my sister, in the flesh.  

She softly whispers, “Okay, Freckles. Robe is on the bench. I love you, sis. We will talk again, but…don’t be too mad at me. Forgive me; I can’t keep our promise tonight.”

When I pull back the curtain, she isn’t there. Just a soft robe sitting on a bench waiting for me. I’ll weep later. I told her I’d stop throwing this pity party. “Ain’t that a bitch! Aight Miss Sinclair! You gon’ get this one time ta do that, ya hear!?”

I hated the silence that came with a realization I willingly let sink to the abyss of my memories. She was here with me. I sigh and stretch to steel my nerves. I told her I’d get out of this dojo and live for us. That was my goal as  I ran to the locker room door and peek out. I hear a little bit of music, talking, and grunting; I can run real fast like I used to in high school. I can be Wild E. Coyote! Speedy Gonzalez!

“Be with me, Andrea.”

Odd, my desire to sprint causes a thump in my chest  where a regurgitated heart should be.  Blood courses all up and through me. I feel the muscles in my legs strengthen as I throw the door open and race to the front door in the beautiful room with the sky. 

I am my damn worst enemy!

I couldn’t help but stop and watch the slow motion roundhouse kick the woman named Birdie levied against her opponent. The beads of sweat slow falling like rain…the blood racing through her veins…her heart beating wildly in her chest…a symphony. Like when I was in a high school  band and my trumpet added just a little bit extra sauce to the melody we all created…when Andrea was alive and cheering on the field…

How could I not pause? Remember? 

We were young.

We were alive.

We were best-friends.

No! We are best-friends.