Heaving a load of laundry into the dryer I get a few stares from adults in the area. This, I'm used to. I come to this laundromat so often you'd think they'd be used to me being here, but I guess not. I suppose they're not used to high school students frequently doing their laundry at in this particular building. It'd be nice if I could do my laundry from the comfort of my own home, but I don't really have electricity or the money to buy such equipment. I could hand do everything and leave it out to dry, but then it'd be pretty obvious that someone lives in the shed. I don't want any unexpected visitors.
Originally, I was skeptical about washing my clothes with other's because of potential bugs I could possibly pick up, but so far I haven't gotten any. I press a couple of buttons before shutting the door with a click. The machine comes to life making a huge racket with it rattling in place. I've probably chosen the oldest machine in the entire room.
The bell by the door rings and I sit on a bench, watching my clothes tumble in circles. From somewhere to my side, someone piles some clothing items into a washer. Judging by the sound of it they didn't seem to be washing very many today. After a bit of shuffling around, I feel a slight sink in the bench. We both look up at the same time catching each other's eye. "Cliff?" I call out recognizing him at once. He looks like he hasn't showered in days and his clothes are filled with holes. However, I don't have much room to speak considering I'm in my baggy sweats with knotted hair that I tied up in a sloppy bun.
He runs a hand through his grimy hair and returns to his slumped over posture. "Hey there, Ettie Spaghetti." He smiles wearily.
"It's good to see you," I chirp trying to lighten the mood.
"It's good to see you too." He avoids my eyes appearing to be in deep thought. "What brings you here?"
"Broken washer and dryer," I lie. "What about you?"
"My clothes smell awful, if you know what I mean. I can't have my mom come home and smell them. She'd freak out," he says in a low tone.
"Oh. Is it a bad time to talk?" I ask seeing as he wasn't himself.
"No, please do. It'll take my mind off of things." He sounds like he's on the verge of collapsing.
"Is there anything you'd like to talk about in particular?" I ask wondering if he is going to tell me what made him this way.
He folds his hands neatly in his lap. "Happier things."
"Alright, today I had this really tasty taco," I ramble on.
Cliff chuckles. "A taco, huh?"
"Yeah, it was basically the highlight of my day."
"You most be pretty easy to please." Cliff shakes his head incredulously.
"I kind of have to be." I sigh. "Sometimes life isn't the funnest and you have to just start looking at little things in life. You've got to enjoy what things you do have. So I did...I enjoyed that taco."
Cliff cracks one of the biggest grins I've ever seen from him. "Has anyone told you that you're a really funny girl?"
I shrug. "Perhaps, I'm not sure."
"You're really funny, but you know what?"
"What?" A bemused look invades my face.
"That's one of my favorite things about you."
I flush a faint scarlet. "Thanks."
"Tell me about yourself."
I hesitate before saying, "Only if you do the same."
"I will." He nods in a languid manner.
"Okay, well...I used to have a dog named Kingsley before I moved. He's a very obedient dog and he'll protect you to the very end. Some nights he'll sit next to you and wait until you invite him to cuddle up on you." I add. "He's a golden retriever, but he's awful at retrieving things. He'll always be my favorite dog even though a cat could probably play fetch better than he can. "
"Kingsley sounds like good company," Cliff says reassuringly.
"Oh, he is. Almost everyone who came over fell in love with him instantly."
"What happened to him?" He asks quizzically.
"He lives with my dad," I reply flatly.
Noticing the grim look on m face, he says, "Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's alright," I accept his apology. Several moments laced in silence pace between us.
"You didn't really say much about yourself..." Cliff searches my face as if he's looking for an answer. He finishes in an uncertain tone. I don't think he found his answer. "but I'll take it. It's a start."
I lower my eyes to the floor. "There's nothing much to say about myself."
"I'm sure there's a whole bunch of things to say, you just don't know how to say them and that's okay. Maybe one day you will."
"Maybe." I respond doubtfully.
"I believe it's my turn right?" "I guess I'll begin with my family. It's fairly large and somewhat complicated. I have a step mom, a step dad, a dad, a mom, two step brothers from my step mom's previous marriage, a brother from my step dad's previous marriage, a full blood brother from my mom and dad, a half sister from my step dad and mom, and three half brothers from my step mom and dad."
"Holy crap, there's thirteen of you?"
"Yup."
"I can't even imagine." I shake my head sincerely.
