Namely, my stomach.
There’s something brewing in there that isn’t friendly. I normally don’t eat big meals as I’m more of a grazer. Certainly not home-cooked like that, and certainly not a heaping plate full. I couldn’t refuse Pearl’s mom, and I felt like it was the right thing to do to clean it. Okay, it was damn good. But I shouldn’t have had seconds and eaten two pieces of cherry pie.
It didn’t hurt at the time, though. I just felt overly full. Now, though, I’m paying for it.
When the rumbling grows audible, and I know I can’t just lay here anymore without seriously devastating consequences, I ease myself out of bed. I wonder, briefly, if there’s a bathroom on the top floor. Pearl didn’t say. All day I have been using the one downstairs, even to freshen up just before bed.
I have no choice but to tiptoe out into the hallway to find out. Thankfully, there’s a hall light glowing above, so I can see at least two different rooms that are open, and then one closed door. I start down, hardly making a sound except for my groaning stomach, which isn’t silent at all. The first door, as luck would have it, is a bathroom.
Thank god.
I step in and close the door as quietly as I can.
Pfffftttttttt.
I tense. Was it me, or was it the door? Jesus, it’s pretty bad when you can’t tell where the noise is coming from. I close the door and twist the lock on the handle. I’m not sure if Pearl’s parents have their bedroom up here. What if I woke someone up walking down the hall? I was quiet, but it’s possible if her parents are light sleepers.
Christ. Now I can’t even do my business comfortably. I keep clenching my butt cheeks, trying not to make a sound, and it’s quite uncomfortable. That’s the understatement of the century. It’s like getting a raging buffalo straight to the gut. Or maybe to the butt.
Eventually, I can relax. I go to flush, which I’m sure is going to wake up the entire household. I press the silver handle down, but nothing happens. I press again. Nothing. Again. Still nothing. One more time for good measure. Yup. Epic amounts of nothing.
Shit. Shit. I just took a shit in Pearl’s parents' toilet, and now it’s not flushing. A really gross shit. The kind of swampy, ratty shit I was talking about earlier. Fuck. What if I plugged it? But I didn’t flush. It was broken before. Maybe some slipped down and pre-plugged it. If it was plugged, wouldn’t it just back up and overflow? No. I think it’s broken.
I’m starting to sweat now. Big beads of moisture roll down my forehead. The pressure is intense. It’s the middle of the night, and I just left the present from hell in a broken toilet. How are they supposed to get that out to fix it? What do I do now? The smell. Oh my lord, they’re going to smell it before they even see it. In a moment of panic, I slam the seat down. I frantically lift the lid off the tank and fiddle with the parts inside in a bid to see if I can get some flush action happening. No. Such. Luck.
Maybe this is karma.
Maybe this is payback for plotting with Pearl to deceive her family.
Maybe this is the universe telling me to deal with my shit. Literally.
I pace back and forth a few times before I finally decide there’s nothing to do but to wake Pearl up. I wash my hands thoroughly, splash some cold water on my face, dry up with the fluffy pink towel on the bar behind the sink, and exit the bathroom.
I do the walk of shame back to the bedroom.
I step in, close the door, and turn the light on.
“Argh!” Pearl shoots upright in bed. I guess she might be a light sleeper after all. Or maybe she’s just triggered by really bright light. The dome light above us has at least three bulbs in it. “What the heck?” She takes in my face, and hers changes from confusion and indignation to outright worry. “What’s going on? What time is it? Are you okay? Are you sick? Do you need to go to the hospital? Oh, shit, if you’re sick, it’s at least a half-hour drive to the nearest one.”
“I’m not sick. Well, not really. I don’t need a hospital.” I sigh. “What I need is a plumber.”
Pearl visibly relaxes, but her brow wrinkles as she frowns. She’s back to being confused. “A plumber? What for?”
“I broke your parent’s toilet.”
“Oh shit!” Pearl throws a hand over her mouth. “Shit! That thing’s been broken for ages. I forgot to tell you not to use it! We just all know about it and use the bathroom downstairs.”