Shelter, Chapter 5

by Glassbottom

"Oh my God... " I kept saying those three words to myself.

It was Saturday afternoon. It was a long while since I had left the car wash, a seeming eternity since I had left Billie in her tiny string bikini, bending over and touching her toes just for yours truly... or was that just my imagination? Was it just my imagination that she was teasing me right in front of everyone?

But you see, it was the perfect tease, was it not? For only she knew who I was, what I was. I suppose that was the disturbing part, that she had it over me, and she could do whatever she wanted to do with me.

Oh my God... yes, back to those three words... those three words you say when you can't think of anything else to say. I had to do something besides sit there and think about Billie all day, but what does one do when one no longer has a life and one needs something to fill the emptiness?

Oh, Billie, that girl, she could fill my emptiness... or was she just making it more empty, packing it up with hollow fantasies that didn't survive beyond the climax...?

But truly, I needed something to do. It was afternoon and I was still sitting there in my T-shirt and shorts on the edge of my seat after getting home from the car wash in the morning, not quite here nor there, not quite anywhere, just lost. I had managed the menial task of pouring myself some iced tea. I had drunk half of it. The cubes had melted and the glass had sweat onto the table.

Well, there was the laundry.

I had been planning to do the laundry the next morning, Sunday morning, but I needed something to do right then and there, as much as I dreaded it. Hey, it was something with a purpose, something with a structure, with simple steps and with pauses in between.

Mostly, it was something that was familiar.

It went back to being Mrs. John Harris, and being mother of Joshua and Amelia Harris. Back then I didn't wait until there was a pile of clothes. If the basket was full, I did a load. If John needed a specific shirt, if Josh needed a jersey or pair of jeans, or if Amelia needed a dress...

Anyway, as time-consuming and boring and as much work as it could be, it was grounding and, like I said, purposeful.

I had the car loaded up at about four-o'clock and I set out for my favorite laundromat. It was off the beaten path, an old place with a lot of machines in a somewhat deserted strip mall down near what once was the old record store and the beauty shop where my mother got her hair done.

It's all gone now, just like the flavor of the food.

Now there is a tax service, a convenience store that is way too pricy to be convenient, and a fast-food restaurant way out front, near the street. The old laundromat, now owned by this middle-aged couple, was smack dab in the middle with about two or three empty stores on either side.

I hadn't seen the man too many times. He seemed nice enough. He was quiet. He pretty much followed around behind the woman and kept his mouth shut. She seemed like a bitter woman, pleasant enough to customers, but you could tell beneath the phony façade that she really didn't like anyone.

When I showed up at about ten after four, there was a young woman there with her two kids, a boy and a girl, both cute, the girl about seven years old and precious with golden locks. None of them looked happy. The girl was helping the mom fold clothes. The boy was sitting in one of the basket chairs. You could tell he had been crying.

"We are not..." the woman was saying, "coming here again. No one speaks to my child that way."

I dragged in all of my laundry and began to load up the machines. I went to the change machine and got my quarters and then went around, starting each of my loads. When I was finished, I stepped outside for a cigarette. It had begun to cloud up.

"Hurry, Scott, April," the young woman said, "let's get this stuff in the car before it starts raining... or before the wicked witch comes back."

Little April laughed and Scott chuckled as well. Mommy had succeeded in breaking the tension.

"Did someone run afoul of Mrs. Pike?" I asked.

"He climbed up on the table," she said, spreading her hand in the direction of the for mica table standing firmly at the end of the row of washers, across from the rows of dryers and basket chairs. There were a few of those tables. They were for folding laundry, not climbing on, but obviously not worth blowing a fuse over.

"I don't see a sign, do you?" the young woman said.

"No, I don't," I said, meanwhile looking at her daughter's shapely calves and pretty feet, becoming more and more aware of what I was, more and more aware of what I was becoming.

After they left, in my boredom, I smoked another cigarette, but I realized in all of a moment that I could not sit still, that I had to leave the clothes in the washing machines and go for a little drive. Not too far. Far enough. Down to Randall Way and Oak Lane. And if no luck there, then come back and try to chill out.

But after seeing little April, feeling the way I did, I felt I had to find Billie if I could... just to touch her a moment, see if she was real.

My movements driving down there were almost mechanical. I smoked one cigarette after another along the way, paying not much attention to what I was doing. I inhaled, I exhaled, I kept the car on the road. I made the proper turns like they were built in to me, without thinking. And I pulled into a spot at the Youth Center and shut off my car. I looked around.

I did not see Billie. I didn't see anyone. Well, I saw a couple of boys at the basketball court trading off hoops, but other than that...

It began to sprinkle from the gray sky. There was no thunder or lightning, maybe just a touch of a breeze, but other than that, just spread-out raindrops falling from the sky. I got out of the car and I closed the door and I walked to the entrance of the barn. The rain was gentle and felt neither warm nor cold to the flesh.

The boys took notice of me. I think they liked what they saw.

Inside the Youth Center, there were quite a few kids. There was a pool table and a couple of boys were shooting pool. There was a room full of kids watching a movie. I would have to say that the furniture, the carpeting, and the flooring in the place was on the cheap side while it would seem they spared no expense on the electronics and the pool table.

It was off in a whole other room that I found Jennifer talking with three girls. They seemed to be having a good time. I didn't want to break it up. I never did seem to fit in with groups of people, no matter the age or sex of the people. Of course, once Jennifer saw me, she called me over.

"Hey, Georgia, whassup?" she called out, trying to be all "with it" I suppose.

"Oh, not much," I said. "Just thought I'd pop in."

"Well," Jennifer said, "this is Chloe," she said, introducing a blonde girl with glasses, then a black girl with braids I thought I had seen with a car wash sign in the morning, and another girl... and yeah, she had been out by the street too... she was hot... black hair with brown eyes and a dark tan...

God, she could've been me at fourteen, and she acted the part too.

"And this is Charice," Jennifer said, "and Mona. You met Billie this morning? Mona's her cousin."

Mona smiled at me with wonderful full-lipped smile, but that smile, there was something about it, something wicked, as if there was something behind it.

"I'm glad to meet you girls," I said. "I was thinking about becoming a volunteer. I think it would be interesting."

"Did you want to sign up now, Georgia?" Jennifer asked. "We could start now. Of course, there are a few formalities we need to go over."

"Well," I said, "I was in the middle of laundry... I really... "

"Well then," Jennifer smiled. "What did you come by for?"

"Um... just to look around I guess," I said. "So what are the formalities?" I asked her as we walked from one room to the other.

"Well, you know... background check... police record, mainly," she said. "I'm sure you're fine, but there are people who take these jobs just to get near kids."

"Oh yes," I said, my heart beating very fast, "I'm sure it happens all the time."

I took my leave of Jennifer and I went back out to my car. The light rain had disappeared and the sun had broken through again. Mona and Charice appeared in view of my car, far from the entrance of the barn, lighting up cigarettes.

No doubt Mona had started her little cousin on that bad habit.

I inched forward in the seat and slipped my hand between my legs, hoping I wouldn't be noticed as I admired Billie's sexy older cousin. She was certainly not Billie, but she was something to look at for the moment, and as I rubbed at the damp crotch of my shorts, imagining what it would be like to touch her, I saw myself in her, and I fantasized more about her touching herself than me touching her.

I closed my eyes, imagined her touching herself with my hands, and then I became her, touching my thirteen, fourteen year old body again...

Friction... friction... close to the center... the world far away...

And then a sound... a familiar sound... a clickety-clickety-click coming and going and then a small squeal of a tire... I thought I was dreaming...

"Hey, little cousin," Mona said.

"'Sup, Billie?" Charice asked.

I sat up straight and opened my eyes, my heart leaping out of my chest as I looked out through my sunglasses at the girl straddling the rustic old red bike. She was wearing a little tank top and jean shorts and flip-flops. She had on a pair of sunglasses. I didn't know whether to get out of the car or not. Maybe just watch them. But now that I was here and I had seen her, wasn't that the point, to try to make contact?

I was flushed and sweaty, and my nipples were hard, pretty obvious when poking through a damp T-shirt. But was that such a bad thing?

I lit a cigarette and opened the car door and I got out. I started to walk over. Mona looked up at me and said something and Billie turned and looked. She took off her sunglasses and as I got closer I could see it was clear that she had been crying. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"Hey, Billie," I said.

"Hi, Georgia," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"Well I was at the laundromat and I thought I'd swing by while it was washing."

"Where?"

"Here."

"No," she said. "Where are you doing laundry?"

"In that strip mall by Chucky's Chicken."

"I know where that is," she said, smiling, and added, turning to Mona, "That's kind of a long trip."

Mona looked up at me and raised her eyebrows. She grinned at me and cocked her head.

"I know... but I... " I couldn't look either one of them in the eye.

"You know what, Georgia?" Mona said.

"What?"

"You're cute when you blush."

"I gotta go," I said, turning away. "I got laundry to finish. And... if you girls are just going to tease me..."

"Wait, Georgia," Billie said. "Don't go."

I walked away from her. I got in my car, started it, and drove away. I swear, the look in her eyes was so forlorn, I wanted to stop the car, get out and ask her what was wrong, but I was committed to driving away. And that was just what I did.

The whole drive all that went through my mind was what Billie had shared with her cousin Mona about me. What exactly had she told her? How far had she gone? Were those secrets safe?

When I got back to the laundromat, the washers had stopped and Mrs. Pike was there. She frowned at me.

"You know, if someone comes in here and takes your clothes, it ain't our responsibility."

"I doubt if anyone is going to come in and steal my wet clothes," I said.

"You'd be surprised," she said. She was sweeping. You could hear her breathing, like every movement was a struggle. It probably was. It was probably the extra weight she carried around, but mostly the smoking. I had seen her smoke outside. And there were days I had seen her cough and gag like crazy. That probably had something to do with her moods.

I switched all of the clothes over to the dryers and I started them up. Then I went outside for a smoke.

I hadn't taken more than a few puffs when a very sweaty and tired looking Billie came riding up on her bike, braking to a stop. She parked the bike, she looked up at me, held out her fingers and said,

"Let me have a drag, but don't let that bitch see it."

"I gotta talk to you," I said. "What did you tell Mona about me?"

"Nothing nasty," she said.

I let her have the cigarette and she took a puff, giving it back to me. She let out the smoke and looked back through the glass.

"I told Mona you bought me ice cream and you thought I was cute and it's a secret. She thinks it's kind of 'sexy'. Don't worry."

Billie was glistening up and down with sweat. If I could have I would have licked it off of her...

"You must have pedaled your ass off," I said.

"You know, I can really ride when I want to," she grinned.

"Is that so," I smiled.

"Yeah," she said. "Whoa, am I thirsty."

"Well, come on in," I said. "They have a machine."

"For 'payin' customers'," she rolled her eyes.

"So you can be my daughter for the day," I said. "Will that work?"

Running her hand back through her sweaty curls, Billie turned to me and reached out her hand, taking mine.

"That would be great... Mom."

(TO BE CONTINUED)