Standing By

More Than A Bump

(Adam)

"Should, ah, someone go check on them?" I'd asked sensibly after a good fifteen minutes.  We'd gotten our bills and most of us had paid; we were just waiting for Tim and Kevin to sign they credit card bills.

    "How the hell long does it take in the bathroom, anyway?" Rob muttered, reaching over and stealing Tim's mint.  "Ya snooze, ya lose, dude."

    "They're OK.  They're washing up and drying off," Scott reasoned.  "That could take awhile."

    "But fifteen minutes?" Mitch looked doubtful as Kirstie bit her lip and looked down.  Unfortunately for her, I caught her doing that.

    "What?" I pounced on her.  "What?  Why'd you do that?"

    "Do what?" she mumbled, sounding a little guilty in my opinion.

    "Bite your lip!  Look down!  Kirstie, you look like you have something up your sleeve." I said, never taking my eyes off of her.

    "Adam, chill," Scott told me irritably.  "They're grown men, for shit's sake."

    Mitch was watching her carefully too.  I didn't think he was buying the innocent act either.

    "Let me through!" some idiot yelled from the doorway.  A restaurant employee went over to talk to him.

    "Kirstie?" Mitch asked delicately, twirling the mint wrapper around his finger.

    "OK, OK, OK," she muttered.  "Heard someone talking about some water faucet issue in there."

    "Okayyy," I said slowly, trying to figure out what exactly that meant, and if it'd delay their coming back in any way.

    "I have a message!" the idiot yelled, trying to push past the waiter.  "For, um, Scott, was it?  And Alan or Albert or something?"

    Scott looked up bemusedly.  "That's me."

    Mitch batted his head back down, trying to get him to pay attention to their tic tac toe game.  "He's just baiting you."

    Kirstie also eyed him suspiciously.  "Ignore him, Scott.  He's probably just a crazy fan.  Look what he's wearing."

    Sure enough, he was wearing some silly-looking pajama pants.  That were wet at the bottom.  I started frowning, an odd thought forming in my brain.

    "Come on, Scott, listen to me!  Come here!" he was saying as Scott did his best to ignore him. "How about an, um, Alan, was it?  Or Albert?  Um, maybe Andrew, no, that don't sound right either."

    "Phishing!" Mitch yelled out.  "Go away, please!"

    "Come with me, sir."  The waiter started to pull him away.

    "Wait!  Wait!  Al, uh..."

    I stood up.  "How about Adam?"

    Rob pulled at my sleeve and hissed at me to sit down.

    "Adam!" the guy called, three steps away from the door.  "That's it, Adam!"

    "Wait!" I called to the man and to the waiter.  "Just hold on a minute!"

    The waiter paused, eyeing the man distastefully.  The man had two keys, ironically to our hotel, in his hand that he was waving at me. 

    "Who are you?  How'd you get those keys?" I demanded.

    "My name is Frank.  I had the misfortune of walking into the men's room about five minutes ago and found the beginnings of a new lake in there, along with five soaking-wet guys."

    At this, Scott finally looked up, frowning.  "What?"
     "They wanted Scott something-or-another to get them their clothes from the hotel.  I have keys."  Frank held them out as a peace offering and I took them, then tossed them to Scott.

    "You heard him, go!' I encouraged.  He and Mitch both stood up and zoomed off together.

    "Was everyone OK?" Rob asked, concerned.

    "Adam was supposed to bring the checks for a couple of them to sign."  He nodded at Rob.  "Guess so.  They were all up and talking.  Some redhead was holding his head though, with some sort of bright red rag to it."

    Rob and I took one look at each other and shouted, "Austin!" at the exact same time.  We took off as fast as we could go to the restroom with Kirstie chasing after us, and nearly collided with two waitress and one fold-out table with three waiting plates on it.

    "Sorry, ma'am, sorry, sorry!" we called after ourselves.

    "If Austin is in any way hurt...," I warned Kirstie in a low voice.

    "Ditto that," Rob said grimly, pausing to push open the bathroom door.

    I don't know if Kirstie was actually scared of us or not but she had to good sense to look remorseful and to stick her lower lip out, looking fearful.

    Rob and I immediately slipped on the wet floor.  He fell straight onto his butt and just sat there looking surprised, but I fell awkwardly, more on my back than on my butt, and slid halfway across the damn bathroom, colliding into poor Austin, who was, in fact, holding a bloody rag to his head.  He fell to the side and both Rob and I gasped.  Thank God he fell onto Kevin— his head was nicely padded on Kevin's stomach.  Kevin was now grumbling about how wet he was.

    "Ah, shut it.  You're wet, not hurt.  Big difference," Rob told him.

    Kevin had the sense to heed the advice as I pulled myself up into a sitting position.  I was going to have a wet trip back to the hotel too.  I patted my pocket for my phone and pulled out a drenched phone that refused to turn on.  "Rob, you got your phone? Does it work? Call Scott and Mitch— we're going to need dry clothes too," I said, then scooted over to my friends.  "Are you all OK?  Austin, what's wrong with your head?  Why are you bleeding?  What the hell happened in here?"  I looked at him concernedly.  I never really have been one to be able to deal with blood well.

    "Can I come in?" Kirstie asked.

    "No."  Rob tried to shut the door in her face, but Kevin gave her the go-ahead and she pushed past him.

    "No, you can't!" Austin snapped.  "A, this is the men's room! And B, I'm just in my boxers, which are wet because the dad-gum faucet exploded when Kevin turned it on!"

    "Can I help?" asked another female voice.

    "No!" Austin, Rob, Tim, Chance, and I all shouted in perfect unison.  Yeah.  You could tell we've been working together for years.

    "Go get the manager," I added.

    "I am the manager," she said and stuck her hand out to shake hands. "Samantha Perry.  Or just Sam."

    "Ah, crap," Austin muttered, looking down at himself.  "Someone give me my plants."

    "There an assistant manager?" Chance asked, trying to peer around her.

    "Yes, also female though."

    "Just gimme my pants," Austin ordered, and Avi handed them to him wordlessly.

    "Are you OK, Austin?" I demanded again.

    "Long story," Tim said.  "But Kevin bumped into him and he fell and smacked his head on the floor."

    My own head was starting to hurt.  "Enough with smacking heads tonight!  How is your head doing now, Tim?"