September Exclusive - "Drop-off" - Part 2

The wheels on the bus continue to go round, all through the town.

“I’m…oh, I’m so sorry.”

She has wet herself. She has created a puddle on the floor. Her face burns with humiliation. A fainting spell, a heart attack, anything would be less soul-destroying than wetting herself like a little girl.

“It was an accident,” Jodie replies. Her hands rest on Grace’s shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. “Could happen to anyone, please don’t worry.”

“But...” It doesn’t happen to me, Grace almost says. Which would be true, but there’s no point trying to argue what’s typical and what’s extraordinary right now. In the present, she’s standing in a daycare office with all the evidence pointing to the fact that she must have the bladder control of a two year old.

At least Jodie doesn’t look disgusted. She smiles. “I can help you get cleaned up, Grace. I even have some clean clothes you can wear.”

Grace exhales. “Yes. Thanks, that would be…” She returns Jodie’s smile, and then she even laughs. “I bet you’re not used to a grown-up doing that.”

Jodie shrugs. “Accidents happen.” She taps her chin. “Any other symptoms?”

“No, I mean I thought I could hold it, but it just…” Her blush returns. “I don’t feel sick, I just really needed to use the bathroom.” Unable to bear standing in her own puddle, she steps takes a step to the side, grimacing as her panties squelch. She’s soaked them.

“Hmm. Oh well, take off those wet things and we can get you cleaned up, and then you can get on with the rest of your day. Do you work?”

Grace says, “I’m in sales,” which could mean a lot of things, but normally does for a conversation like this one. And then she blinks. “You want me to…?” She gestures at her waist and looks around the room. “In here?” That’s what the young woman said, but it can’t be right.

“I don’t want you to have to walk to the bathroom like this,” Jodie says. “Past reception, past kids and parents.” She goes to close the office door. “That would be embarrassing, wouldn’t it.”

Grace nods. “But I don’t need…I mean, I appreciate the help, but I can do it myself. If you’ve got some wipes.” She laughs softly. “You must have plenty of wipes, a place like this.”

Jodie walks back over and says simply, “Better if I do it, Gracie.”

Grace feels a tingle of irritation. It doesn’t come close to replacing her embarrassment, but it does remind her that she can take charge of the situation.

“It’s Grace. And I’m not a child, I can take care of it myself.” She offers a light smile. “I know you’re trying to help, but really, all I need is the wipes, and if you do have something in my size, I could borrow it for the day.”

The driver on the bus says, Move on back, move on back, move on back.Grace looks around the source of the music and is unsuccessful. It’s as if the song is leaking from the walls.

“You sure?” Jodie holds out her hands, and for a moment it seems that she’s offering to pick Grace up, to hold her in her arms. Jodie smiles. “It’s my job to clean up little accidents. How about I clean up yours?”

Wow. Grace shakes her head in amazement. “You think…because I’ve been…because I had a medical problem, that you can talk to me like I’m one of your students.” She folds her arms. “I’m a sales director making…I bet ten times your salary. I’m not an idiot, I’m not an invalid, I’m not a…snot-nosed kid waiting for you to wipe her ass.” She stares at the woman. “Instead of insulting my intelligence, I suggest you find those wipes and the clothes you promised. I really don’t want to stay here longer than I have to.”

Grace isn’t someone who delights in treating people badly, but she’s no shrinking violet. Perhaps the woman – who, let’s face it, can’t be older than twenty – will take offence. Perhaps she will start to cry.

Instead, Jodie tilts her face at Grace and asks blandly, “Sure you don’t feel any other symptoms?”

Grace huffs. “Why?”

“I’ve heard there’s something going around, people having some little accidents. Any acid reflux? Indigestion?” She taps her chest. “Maybe got a little wind trapped?”

Grace pats the top of her own chest, willing to humor Jodie that far but no further, and immediately lets out a high-pitched belch.

Jodie smiles, and her tone changes with it. “That’s a girl! You had a little burpy!”

Grace stares at the redhead. A little burpy? This woman needs to spend some time talking to adults.

And then the world seems to slow down.

“Burrr…” Grace begins, and then she blinks, abruptly exhausted. She mumbles, “Burrr…pee?”

Jodie takes Grace’s hands, swings them gently from side to side. “There, that’s better isn’t it. You were getting all cranky but now you’re going to be good for me.”

Is she? Grace looks blearily down at her hands, and then at the woman. “Wassa…I doan…”

“I know,” says Jodie conversationally, “You got all messy and you need Jodie to clean you up.” She starts to undress Grace, starting with her wet shoes and then pulling down her jeans and underwear. “Because you had a little accident, didn’t you.”

“Buh…I gotta…” She manages to keep her eyes open, but that’s all. She lets Jodie remove her shirt and bra, until she is standing there, naked and in a mental fog.

“Good girl,” Jodie says. “Soon have you all cleaned up and smelling sweet.”

Grace watches as her wet clothes are put in a plastic bag. To be sent to the laundry? To be tossed into the trash? What will become of her Lucky Brand jeans?

“That little burp has done wonders,” Jodie says with a satisfied smile. “Made you all good and sweet for me.” She takes Wet Wipes from a tub and cleans around Grace’s thighs, between her legs. It’s gentle but invasive, it’s completely inappropriate, and yet Grace does nothing to stop the woman. She doesn’t even make a sound.

Because she’s shattered, she’s bushed. Ever since the burp.

“You need a nap,” Jodie says softly, seeming to read her guest’s slowed-down mind. She has a clean outfit for Grace, as promised. A pair of thick, white panties, and then a yellow one-piece that makes Grace nod groggily in recognition.

“The lay-dee…” she mumbles. “Befoh…”

“Look how pretty,” Jodie says, stepping around to pull the zipper up Grace’s back. “Such a bright, sunshiney color. It suits you!”

Grace looks down at herself. Strokes clumsily at her stomach. She’s so yellow, and she thinks of the smoothie. Yes, she’s like a banana. Like a banana skin, so no wonder she’s slipping.

She produces a fresh belch, smaller this time, and the taste of the smoothie is back in her mouth.

“Excuse me,” she says. Except, she doesn’t. “Scoo-eey,” she manages, which isn’t close.

“Oh my,” Jodie says, clapping her hands together as if Grace had performed a magic trick. “There you are! You had another burpee for me!” She grins. “I bet that felt just wonderful!”

Grace doesn’t feel wonderful. She feels…empty. She is a husk. An empty feeling in her head, a numbness in her crotch, and all she feels in her arms and legs is heaviness. Does she need to go to the bathroom again? She has no idea.

“Sleepy girl,” Jodie says, and she puts her arms around Grace. “Sleepy, sweet girl.” She strokes Grace’s back, and Grace relaxes further, gives in further, and her mouth opens. Is she drooling? Maybe. She lets Jodie sit her down by the desk, positioning her like a doll, and then Jodie brushes Grace’s hair, arranging it in a way that matches her own.

“There, Gracie, you got pigtails, just like me!”

Grace looks at Jodie through the heaviest of eyes. Isn’t her name Wendy? Didn’t they work that out before? She peers at the woman with the red hair and freckles, and Grace wonders if there will be food. A snack. The biggest of burgers.

“Sleepy girl,” Jodie says, patting her head. “Sleepy Gracie.” She pulls her to a standing positon. “Nap time for sleepy little girls!”

There’s no denying it. Grace needs a nap. She shuffles out of the office, led by the hand down the hallway. Grace looks down at the ground, watching her feet, and she doesn’t wonder if anyone sees her in her new outfit, being led like a toddler.

They enter the yellow room.

Yellow, of course. Like Jodie’s T-shirt, like Grace’s one-piece. Like a banana smoothie.

The room is dark, and there’s faint music playing. Nothing about a bus or its wheels; it’s ambient, twinkling keyboards and repetitive, swirling chords.

Jodie lies Grace down on a mat and covers her with a blanket. “Here’s your blankie,” Jodie says in a whisper, “and here’s your stuffie.”

Grace accepts the plush toy without comment, without even opening her eyes. She knows she’s not alone, she can hear breathing, she can hear snoring. She’s in the yellow room, she’s in the room that Debbie says is just for babies. And with that thought, she opens her eyes and mumbles, “Dehhh-bee?”

Jodie strokes the woman’s head. “You’ll see Debbie later, maybe you can play a game together. When you wake up, I’ll show you your cubby, and you can have a snack. Now, it’s nap time. You have a lovely sleep, Gracie. There’s a good girl.”

Grace will do as she’s told. As if there was any choice in the matter. She closes her eyes, strokes the stuffie, listens to the twinkling music, and she’s asleep inside a minute.