A short fiction story | Themes include: poverty, abuse, and neglect
Into the Lavatory
Written by Kylie
By the age of seven, my father and I moved out of his car and were living in a room with a shared kitchen and bathroom.
The entire street had trees that did a good job of stopping sunlight. And, as usual, there was a bodega on the corner, but we never went to that one because Papi didn’t like how the man tried to dupe me for change.
Of all the other residents on our floor, I most despised the man who named his son Cash; he broke my rainbow chopstick house when helping us move in.
Everyone living at 686 Gordon Street was going through the shelter process and was close to receiving government rent assistance for their own apartment.
“Dianna called me today,” my father began as he struggled to smear a clump of butter onto bread. “She wants an estimate for the roof.” He folded the slice in half and shoved it into his mouth.
Really?
I asked with a big grin.
My father named his construction business after me: I. R. R. Reyes or I Relish Rosa Reyes.
He called me his lucky charm and relish happened to be one of the first words he learned in English.
But, what Miguel really relished was his cars; most of his income went to sustaining a polished vehicle.
He’d tell me stories of how he carried my baby-sized body on his shoulder while riding a bike to work.
He swore off public transportation once he bought his 2004 burgundy Dodge van.
“We can get coquitos at the buffet once I get this contract,” he said.
My father was a short man.
And, I’d inherited his Dominican fivehead.
I knew he was handsome even as a child because women in parks always came up to him.
He wore baggy shirts and jeans religiously.
And although his white court suit was a little stained at the armpits, he wore it every time we met with our social worker.
What are we gonna eat tonight? Did you eat?
I asked, always quick to interrogate him.
I extended my hand to take the buttered slice of bread that he’d offered.
I could live off of butter and bread alone but he enjoyed cooking whatever ‘real food’ was.
“We have some peaches---y pan… You have to eat in school.” The food stamps hadn’t cleared.
“Can you buy me a Nutrament?”
“Whatever you want, when I can afford it.”
What if Deedee doesn’t want to hire you?
I asked as I shoved the last bite in my mouth.
His face changed, “What have I told you about this negativity?”
I felt myself shrinking under his disappointed glare, “Tu y tu negatividad de mierda.”
His words were crisp like a dry NYC breeze during negative-degree temperatures.
His wrinkled eyebrows made it clear that I’d done something wrong.
“I’m sorry.”
“You think Papa Dios likes that you’re negative?”
I didn’t know the answer.
He might’ve gotten the belt.
But, he didn’t use it.
He often boasts as if he beat me but I was a good child, so there wasn’t a need.
We sat with news channel 12 for a couple of minutes.
He laid down as he wrote up a contract on a custom-made carbonless receipt pad.
His eyes shifted from pad to calculator and back again.
Meanwhile, I awkwardly sat at the corner of the bed that we shared, staring at the lines that asked me to summarize the elementary-level living environment reading that we’d covered in class.
I rarely cared to do my homework but it was a good time to be a model daughter.
It took me no more than a couple minutes to get done but it was tedious to read about frogs and Christopher Columbus.
I preferred Percy Jackson, Copper Sun, and A Series of Unfortunate Events, I read enough on my own to morally make up for not reading my teacher’s assignments.
“You know what? So you can learn how to control esa maldita lengua,” he paused to wave the belt, still in his hand, at the closet door.
“Go kneel!”
His yell was unexpected and tears streamed down my cheeks.
I moved slowly, with a hunch and arms dangling by my sides as if they'd popped out.
He threw the belt and the receipt pad on the ground and folded his arms underneath his head.
His eyes were closed and drool dribbled down his cheeks by the time I had executed his instructions.
“How long do I have to stay here?” I sobbed, “Pa!”
“I don’t want to hear it! If I hear a single thing come out your mouth I’m going to get up and use that belt.”
I inhale sharply and suck in the mucus dripping down my lips.
“But, you’re going to sleep…”
“Until I say so! And be ready if I wake up and you’re not kneeling.”
He got up with annoyance oozing out of his pores and smacked the lights off.
Once he laid back down, the light of the TV shone on his back.
I kneeled.
Unmoving, afraid to get a splinter from the rough wood floor lodged in my knee.
I watched the commercial for products that were 19.99 plus shipping and handling.
The antenna cable box read 9:37 PM in green lights, shifting over and over, I hoped the difference wouldn’t disturb him.
I sat on my ass once I heard the first snore.
By then the tears had caked up along my cheeks.
I pulled off a string that stuck out of my unevenly cut legging shorts.
I was beginning to get bored when I heard the first set of pritter patterns.
Even over the murmurs of my television, I could hear the little feet running underneath the floorboards and beyond the walls.
I immediately remembered the hole that my father was to stuff with brillo pad material; but hadn’t gotten around to it.
Tears ran down the trail they had already formed. I looked at the belt on the floor.
Then at my dad’s back.
My sobs were silent and I shifted to the other side---deeper into the closet’s darkness.
The television light barely let me see the outline of my fingers.
I lightly stomped the ground to scare off rodents who may not know I was there.
I can’t remember when but my feet slowly stopped moving.
And, the dimness of the light bothered me less and less as I fell into sleep.
Until a tickle along my foot caused me to jump.
In jumping, I hit my head and everything went black for a moment.
All I could hear was what seemed like the flatline of a heart rate monitor.
I took a deep breath but the air wouldn’t reach my lungs.
I clamored for oxygen and searched around but after opening my eyes everything remained dark.
The sound of the television had disappeared and the clawing at the wood had gotten louder.
I burst through the door of the closet and was blinded by light.
Tears formed in my eyes.
It smelled like disinfectant.
I recognized the scent from hospitals and McDonald’s restrooms.
As I recovered from the brightness and wiped away my tears, the surrounding bathroom features became more clear.
The bathroom was the size of two bathroom stalls.
The silver sink was tacky.
No smoking in Lavatory, read the bolded black letters of the first sign.
Never heard that word before.
I patted my thighs to find a pocket but my leggings barely had enough cloth to cover me, much less the addition of compartments.
I take a napkin to turn the door knob and slip into the hall.
The plane aisle reminds me of the Home Alone scene where the parents realize they’ve forgotten their child.
“Excuse me, you cannot stand here.” a soft voice began before I felt warm pressure on my back.
The woman was wearing a fitted skirt suit, unlike Papi’s, hers outlined the stiffness of her body.
She hovered over me with her brows furrowed; I felt like throwing up.
I want my Papi, I yell. The flight attendant jumped back. My sobs had heads turning.
“Don’t cry!” She screamed.
“Stop! We’ll find your daddy, okay?”
She kneeled and rubbed my back.
“My name is Larva. What’s your name?”
Her eyes are hazel despite being Papi’s skin color.
I breathed in a glob of mucus.
Rosa. My roaring stomach punctuated the name.
“Are you hungry?”
“Is that a child?”
A fat man with particles on his shoulders appears a couple feet away, shoving a multi-layered sandwich into his mouth.
She takes my hand and positions herself between us.
“Yes and perhaps it’d be good for the distressed girl if you stopped staring.”
“Call the hotline…”
“Thank you, I can handle this from here,” she says, squeezes past him, and pulls me along the aisle.
A woman who smelled like Body Fantasies Japanese Cherry Blossom Body Spray stared me down the entire section of the plane.
Then, I saw a baby in a car seat with veins visible through its translucent skull.
I make eye contact with almost every passenger on the right side of the semi-empty flight.
Until I finally catch a glimpse of the sky from a window.
The clouds are bright and fluffy, though a different texture, they remind me of the softness Papi enjoys when he rubs laundry tags together.
Ms. Rivera said you should always leave them on your clothes but Papi collects them in his jeans pockets.
I’m hungry, I answer the flight attendant.
“Ok, we’re almost there.”
“Can I have two of whatever you bring please?” She nods.
I gawked at the larger seats as we passed into the spacious part of the plane.
Larva sits me down on the chair and disappears to get food.
“Excuse me,” I jump at the sound of the raspy, coffee-scented voice.
The fat man smiles beside me and exposes big yellow teeth.
Skin particles erode from his shirt every time he opens his mouth.
He pulls out a red Game Boy and extends his hands in my direction.
Papi says I shouldn't take things from strangers.
“How will we stop being strangers if you won’t talk to me?”
He sits across from me now.
I think that’s the point.
“Funny kid… It’s a long flight to Moscow, so you should take it.”
He pats his belly, “I just need it back once we’re off the plane, you think you can get it back to me?”
I nod and he places it on my lap.
What is Moscow?
“Moscow’s in…”
“Is that a child?!”
Another flight attendant in a pantsuit has shock plastered over her face.
I’m immediately unable to identify the person’s gender.
I stare at everything; from her white hair to the leprechaun heeled shoes.
Her long diamond studded nails allow me to conclude my hypothesis.
“Alex, meet Rosa!”
I hear Larva from the other side of the wall, she emerges from the curtains and furrows her brows at the fat man before addressing anything else.
“Sir, you cannot be here. Please return to your seat.”
He winks at me and puts his hands up to surrender before backing up to where he came from.
Larva sighs and drops herself into the seat.
“Careful with that man, okay?” I nod. “It’s stuffed chicken wings with grattini pasta, asparagus, and tomatoes, served with mushroom sauce, berry cake, and water.”
She’d put the two bags in the empty space on the seat.
I squeeze to the other side to not ruin dinner.
The other person, Alex, was white but held her tablet the way Auntie Deedee held her romance books.
“How old are you?”
Seven.
“Nope. The database said we have a seven-month-old, low immunity, unvaccinated but definitely not a seven-year-old. I haven’t even seen a seven-year-old since…”
Alex took a moment to collect her thoughts, “Well, since kids stopped living longer than two years…”
“Where’s your mom..? Dad? Grandpa? Grandma?”
Papi is at home sleeping.
“This has to be a sign from God. The world is going to end.”
“You’re scaring her!”
“Where do you live?”
I don’t know... Maybe the bathroom can take me back home…
“So, it's missing a couple screws… That kind of makes me feel better.”
“How did she even get on the flight? We would’ve known if there were more than one on this plane. Where do seven-year-olds even come from?”
“I don’t know.”
“Should we call the hotline?”
“I don’t know. You’ve seen the news.”
“Should we hide her?!”
“She has a dad.”
“He left his kid on a plane! In rags!”
“I don’t know…”
I think I know where to go.
“Where is that?”
The bathroom because my closet should be there, too. Can I go?
I pointed towards the nearest bathroom.
“You can pee alone, right? At what age are they supposed to learn that?”
Yes, I can pee.
I grab the food and walk towards the nearest bathroom.
“What are we gonna do with her?”
“I don’t know! Stop asking me these questions!”
I began back down the hall.
This time the people stare without shame.
I walked as fast as my legs could carry me.
The sky was still beautiful.
Once I’m near the back, I look for the fat man.
“Hello,” a woman says. “What are you looking for?”
A big man with a black shirt.
“Oh, I haven’t seen one around…”
She starts moving things out of the empty seat between us.
“How about you sit with me while we wait.”
No, thank you.
“Wait!”
She reached for my arm as I turned to go.
I jump back and suddenly feel the weight of everyone’s stares.
Their eyes were cold, almost lifeless.
One of them even held their phone up to record.
Game in hand, I booked it towards the stall.
The sign by the handle displays VACANT in bright green words.
When I opened the door, the floor past the door frame was made of wood and clothes were hanging in the way.
I quickly step through and lock the door behind me.
The lights are still off and the room is still illuminated by the hum of the television.
“Papi!” I shake him gently to avoid upsetting him.
“What?” His tone did not hint at any anger.
“I brought food!”