out of town, but then slows down, does a u-turn and heads back. She doesn’t go to the beach, but to the main street that’s quiet except for a pub at each end. She stops out the front of the first.
What are you doing? says Jordy.
I’ll just be a minute. Wait here, says Loretta.
You’re just going to leave us?
Jordy, it’s not like it’s a casino. You’re not going to die. I just need a moment.
She gets out of the car, closes her door. The light snaps off. She leans in Bert’s window and says, Be good. Walks away. She lights up when she opens the pub door, and then she’s gone.
I need to do a wee, Jordy.
What do you want me to do about it?
I need to go.
Well, do you want to follow her in?
No.
So, quit complaining then.
I look around at the street. There’s no trees or bushes to quickly go in. It’s wide-open, and every now and then someone slouches by. We sit there silently for a long time. Jordy drums his hands on the dashboard.
Shut up. You’re making it worse.
What? With what?
That noise.
Does this make it worse?
He starts making the sound of running water, a long shhhhhhhhh. Then he laughs. I can feel the pressure of the wee in my stomach that’s round and taut as a drum. He starts making the running water noise again.
I’m going to piss my pants, and the whole car will stink of piss. And then you’ll be sorry.
It’ll be worth it.
Jordy, I whine and clench myself tight.
Geez, he says, piss in this.
He throws me an empty chip packet. It’s the Twisties one from the first day.
In that?
Yes. Jesus.
Will it fit?
Why don’t you find out, dipshit.
Don’t look.
I’m not looking, retard.
I face the corner and undo my pants, lean over the packet. I try to breathe calmly and relax but nothing comes out. I whimper a little.
What? says Jordy.
Nothing, don’t turn around.
Why would I turn around?
I let go, and the wee feels hot as it squeezes out and streams into the bag. In the silence it makes a funny noise hitting the packet. I hold the edge of it very carefully, willing it to be big enough for all the wee. I can’t stop now that I have started. I wee until there’s just drips. I shake them into the bag, then try to do up my pants with one hand, and hold the bag full of wee withthe other, which is impossible. I just hold it, the warmth coming through the packet to my skin.
Jordy, what do I do with the bag now?
Are you serious?
I don’t know what to do.
Throw it away, idiot.
I look out at the street, and there is a bin not too far away. I try scrunch the top of the bag with one hand, open the door, slip out, keep my shorts up with my other hand. I have to shuffle old man-ish. I stumble and drop the bag. It lands on the concrete with a splat and splashes wee on my feet. I step back, try to run, remember my pants aren’t done up. Zip them up and run back to Bert.
What happened?
Nothing.
I wake up to Jordy tapping me on the forehead. Wake up, he says.
What? I can smell the wee on my feet.
We got to go in and get her.
But I don’t want to go in there.
Jordy gets out. My eyes feel sticky. I try pick the edges open. Wake myself up. I need a drink of water. I’ve got desert mouth. I find my thongs under the seat. Slip them on, get out.
I look at Bert, Should we lock it? I say.
No, we don’t have the key, we won’t be able to get back in.
Jordy pushes open the doors of the pub, and I walk closely behind him. I reach to hang on to his shirt, but my hand is in midair when I see Loretta. She is dancing alone in the middle of the room. She has her eyes closed and her arms out to balanceherself. The dress was pretty this morning. But it looks wrong in here, too short and the strap keeps falling off one shoulder. She shrugs it back up as part of her dance. She is mouthing the words to the song. There is no dance floor, just space between the tables and a jukebox in the corner. The light from the pool table gives the room a green tinge. A line of men leans up against the
What are you doing? says Jordy.
I’ll just be a minute. Wait here, says Loretta.
You’re just going to leave us?
Jordy, it’s not like it’s a casino. You’re not going to die. I just need a moment.
She gets out of the car, closes her door. The light snaps off. She leans in Bert’s window and says, Be good. Walks away. She lights up when she opens the pub door, and then she’s gone.
I need to do a wee, Jordy.
What do you want me to do about it?
I need to go.
Well, do you want to follow her in?
No.
So, quit complaining then.
I look around at the street. There’s no trees or bushes to quickly go in. It’s wide-open, and every now and then someone slouches by. We sit there silently for a long time. Jordy drums his hands on the dashboard.
Shut up. You’re making it worse.
What? With what?
That noise.
Does this make it worse?
He starts making the sound of running water, a long shhhhhhhhh. Then he laughs. I can feel the pressure of the wee in my stomach that’s round and taut as a drum. He starts making the running water noise again.
I’m going to piss my pants, and the whole car will stink of piss. And then you’ll be sorry.
It’ll be worth it.
Jordy, I whine and clench myself tight.
Geez, he says, piss in this.
He throws me an empty chip packet. It’s the Twisties one from the first day.
In that?
Yes. Jesus.
Will it fit?
Why don’t you find out, dipshit.
Don’t look.
I’m not looking, retard.
I face the corner and undo my pants, lean over the packet. I try to breathe calmly and relax but nothing comes out. I whimper a little.
What? says Jordy.
Nothing, don’t turn around.
Why would I turn around?
I let go, and the wee feels hot as it squeezes out and streams into the bag. In the silence it makes a funny noise hitting the packet. I hold the edge of it very carefully, willing it to be big enough for all the wee. I can’t stop now that I have started. I wee until there’s just drips. I shake them into the bag, then try to do up my pants with one hand, and hold the bag full of wee withthe other, which is impossible. I just hold it, the warmth coming through the packet to my skin.
Jordy, what do I do with the bag now?
Are you serious?
I don’t know what to do.
Throw it away, idiot.
I look out at the street, and there is a bin not too far away. I try scrunch the top of the bag with one hand, open the door, slip out, keep my shorts up with my other hand. I have to shuffle old man-ish. I stumble and drop the bag. It lands on the concrete with a splat and splashes wee on my feet. I step back, try to run, remember my pants aren’t done up. Zip them up and run back to Bert.
What happened?
Nothing.
I wake up to Jordy tapping me on the forehead. Wake up, he says.
What? I can smell the wee on my feet.
We got to go in and get her.
But I don’t want to go in there.
Jordy gets out. My eyes feel sticky. I try pick the edges open. Wake myself up. I need a drink of water. I’ve got desert mouth. I find my thongs under the seat. Slip them on, get out.
I look at Bert, Should we lock it? I say.
No, we don’t have the key, we won’t be able to get back in.
Jordy pushes open the doors of the pub, and I walk closely behind him. I reach to hang on to his shirt, but my hand is in midair when I see Loretta. She is dancing alone in the middle of the room. She has her eyes closed and her arms out to balanceherself. The dress was pretty this morning. But it looks wrong in here, too short and the strap keeps falling off one shoulder. She shrugs it back up as part of her dance. She is mouthing the words to the song. There is no dance floor, just space between the tables and a jukebox in the corner. The light from the pool table gives the room a green tinge. A line of men leans up against the
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