‘No t-p,’ Helen muttered, and rushed past her to the third stall.
Abilene’s stall had a roll of paper. The toilet seat looked clean, but she didn’t want to sit on it. Her dispenser of paper seat covers was empty. So, after latching the door and pulling down her pants, she squatted above the seat without touching it.
She was scared, trembling. She couldn’t relax enough to go.
From the sounds she heard, Helen was having no such problem.
Then she heard the distant clamor of a closing door.
It sent ice sliding up her back. It sent her urine squirting into the toilet bowl.
‘Oh, my God,’ Helen murmured.
‘Kill your light and be quiet,’ Abilene warned. She switched off her own flashlight. But couldn’t stop peeing, and neither could Helen. Though the splashing sounded awfully loud, she doubted that it could be heard from the hallway. If someone came into the restroom, though… ‘Whatever you do,’ she gasped, ‘don’t flush. Stand on the seat when you’re done. And make it quick.’
‘Do you think they’re coming here?’ Helen sounded ready to panic.
‘Who knows?’ She finished. She groped some toilet paper, dried, stood up straight, pulled up her panties and shorts, and climbed onto the seat. One hand held the flashlight. The other held the waistband of her loose shorts. She wished she had a spare hand to press against a wall of the stall; her perch on the seat felt too precarious for comfort.
This isn’t such a hot idea, anyway, she thought. If it’s the custodial staff, someone’s bound to come in.
The restroom was certain to be a place they cleaned, and hiding in the stalls wouldn’t do any good at all.
From beside her came a gasp. Then a heavy, thumping splash. ‘Shit!’
‘Shhhh.’
‘Oh, yuck.’ Splashing, dripping sounds. ‘I stepped in it.’
‘Shhhh.’
The restroom door sighed open, and the light came on.
‘Go ahead to my office. I’ll be along in a minute.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Footsteps approached, heels clacking on the tile floor. Abilene held her breath.
Hardin entered the first stall.
The one without toilet paper!
Abilene heard the latch of the door clack into place. Garments rustled. The toilet seat creaked quietly. A long honk of blowing gas resounded through the room. ‘Fucking chili,’ Hardin muttered.
Abilene, terrified, didn’t even come close to laughing. She prayed that Helen felt the same way. If the girl should crack up now… but she didn’t.
Then came a tinkling sound, another roar of chili thunder.
‘Damn bitch,’ Hardin said.
The girl she’d sent ahead to her office? Abilene wondered who she was, what she’d done. Must’ve been something damn serious for Hardin to be nailing her at night. Damn serious, like maybe wearing a short skirt.
And felt like an idiot for worrying about the plan.
Any second now, Hardin would see that she had entered a stall with no toilet paper. Then, she’d come next door to try her luck.
Make a break for it now? While she’s still sitting down, her door latched?
Run like hell?
What about Helen? The move to escape would take her by surprise. She had farther to go than Abilene. And she wasn’t nearly so quick on her feet.
Abilene might make it, but Hardin was sure to throw open her door in time to spot Helen.
Then it was too late.
The latch of Hardin’s door clattered. A quiet squeak announced the opening of her door.
Footsteps.
The sound of the footsteps receded.
Hardin was walking away!
Abilene heard the restroom door swing open. The lights went out. A moment later, the door bumped shut.
She stood motionless, gasping air that was rank with the aroma of used beans and onions. No sound came from Helen’s stall.
After a while, she whispered, ‘Are you all right?’
‘My right foot isn’t.’
Abilene laughed. Helen started to laugh.
‘Did you hear what she said?’ Abilene asked.
‘Gutter language.’
‘She didn’t wipe, either.’
‘She didn’t flush.’
‘Didn’t even wash her hands.’
‘What a hog!’ Helen gasped.
‘Thank God she’s a hog. That’s all that saved us.’
Abilene stepped down from the toilet seat. Flashlight clamped under one arm, she fastened her shorts, opened the door and stepped out of the stall.
A moment later, Helen came out. ‘What’m I gonna do about my foot?’
Her right sock, sodden, drooped low around her ankle. Her tennis shoe looked soaked.
‘It’ll dry. Come on, let’s get back to the bookstore.’
‘You want to go ahead with it?’
‘We’ve gone this far. We’ll just have to make sure she’s out of the building by ten.’
Abilene turned on her flashlight. She hurried for the restroom door. Helen followed, one shoe squelching.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘I may’ve puked,’ Vivian said, ‘but…’
'May’ve?' Helen interrupted.
‘At least I didn’t step in a toilet.’
‘Of Yeller Foot,’ Finley said from the hood of the car, and grinned into her drink.
‘Viv was bombed when she blew her supper,’ Cora pointed out. ‘What’s your excuse?’
‘It was dark,’ Helen said.
‘And we were scared out of our wits,’ Abilene said. ‘I nearly fell in, myself.’
‘It was the smell that made me lose it,’ Vivian said.
‘You shouldn’t have been sniffing my shoe,’ Helen told her.
‘Yeah, well…’ Vivian chuckled softly and took a sip of her drink.
‘That was a hell of a night,’ Cora said.
‘We were a wild ’n crazy bunch.’
