He felt his mouth watering in preparation for the evacuation of his stomach contents. “Holy Jeezus…I really think something died inside you.” He gagged again and before he could force it down, the remnants of their meal shot up and out in a spray.
Trevor bent over deeply and splattered the linoleum floor with stomach acid and partially digested food. He gagged again then spit, doing his best to clear his mouth of the pungent burn.
Patricia appeared next to him, tugging at her pants. “No, wait!” He held a hand up, stopping her. “You gotta clean your ass or…or…” He turned again and spewed more of his stomach contents onto the floor.
His eyes burned and his stomach continued to cramp. “Good lord…that’s worse than a puppy with parvo.” He tried to breathe through his mouth as he reached back into the office and pulled his pack from the desk, being careful not to even look at the black spray that painted the floor and part of the rear wall.
He pulled out a plastic bag of baby wipes and tugged out a small handful. “I save these for cleaning up when there’s no water, but…urk…” He looked away and handed her the wipes. “Go. Clean yourself up.”
She stared at the wet papers in her hands then turned and stared at him blankly. Trevor spit again and did a quick farmer’s blow to clear his nostrils. “Dammit, girl! Don’t you remember nothing?”
He shook his head as he dragged her farther from both of their messes. In the dim light of the lamp, he guided her hand and tried to teach her how to wipe her butt. He continued to gag as the smell rose up to meet him and he felt bile rising in his throat when he pulled her hand away, the wipe smeared with more of the black liquid.
“Do you get it now? Clean. Your. Butt.”
She continued to stare at him, her mind a total blank.
Trevor sighed heavily and peeled another wipe from the stack. He wadded it up and slipped it into her hand. He guided her hand and went through the motions. A third wipe came back nearly clean so he called it good. “Try to give me a bit more warning next time, okay? I bet even if the toilets in here don’t work, it would be a lot less messy than blowing up the office.”
He tugged her pants back up and tied the electrical cord snug again to hold them up. He led her down the hallway and away from their messy bodily functions. “Sweet Mary, mother of god. That was horrible.” He glanced at her and she stared at him blankly. “Is it always like that with…with your kind? Or is it because you’re eating real food now?”
He sighed as they reached the front of the grocery store. “Either way, you and me have got to get you housebroken.”
He lifted her up and set her down gently at one of the registers. “Look, I don’t know if you understand anything I’m telling ya, but you and me? We’re getting the hell out of Dodge. The more I think about the locals and their warehouse, the more I think that they’d just as soon kill you as look at you and I can’t have that.” He wiped the sides of his face with a clean wet wipe and spit on the floor once more, trying to clear his mouth of the acid and bile.
He wiped her hands clean and tossed the wipes to the floor. “I dunno where they mighta gone, but I can’t risk them not accepting you.” He sat back and sighed. “I think in the back of my mind I was hoping that maybe Donna would want us. You know…be a real family and all.” He shook his head. “I don’t think even a kid could make her want me back.”
He looked up into her eyes and saw no spark. He wiped a stray hair from her eyes and it fell out in his hand. “Jeezus Patricia…you just keep losing your hair.” He ran his hand over her nearly smooth head and shook the stray hairs off. “Maybe we should find you a wig. You know, to keep your noggin’ warm.” He gave her a lopsided smile and she smiled back. He could tell it was forced, but at least she reciprocated.
He leaned against the checkout counter and glanced at the empty racks that once held candy and other compulsion-buy products. “What I wouldn’t give for a fresh National Enquirer right about now.” He turned and gave her a wink. “I’m sure they’d blame all of this on either aliens or one of the royals screwing a monkey or some shit.”
He stretched his back and reached for his pack. “How about a quick bite while the sun goes down? You’ll need your energy while we’re on the road.” He rifled in the bag and pulled out a can of tuna. “I know you weren’t big on the hash. How about some fish?”
He opened the can and gave it to her. She sniffed at it then tilted it back, sucking the watered down chunks of fish from the tin.
“So I have this plan. We grab us an RV. They have cabinets and storage places that we can stuff with as much food and water as we can find in here. Then we siphon some gas and we hit the road. Find us a place that’s in the middle of nowhere.” He wiped the stream of fish juice from her mouth then opened a can of sardines. “Here. These are packed in oil, so try not to get it on your…” He trailed off as she tilted the can back and sucked the fish into her mouth, “…clothes.”
He watched her lick the can clean then drop it to the floor. “I wonder what you’ll be eating like when you hit the teen years.” He shook his head and pulled out a plastic
