belt loops on my jeans stuck straight out and they were stiff, like they’d been starched or something. Various rips and tears decorated the rest of my jeans until I reached the knees. Then, they were just shredded.
I took a deep breath, nearly gagging on the smell of roses coming from the soap. I seriously needed to rinse the rest of the soap off. Cutting my eyes in the direction of the monstrous tub, I regarded another potential foe. After a moment, I decided I just couldn’t do it. I was not up to any more fights with plumbing tonight.
Instead, I opted for the known quantity, the nice normal sink. The sink was safe. The sink was my friend. Good thing the sink was deep. I had a lot of hair.
Having rinsed off the majority of the soap, I stood wrapped in a towel, staring at myself in the mirror again. Should I get ice for my head? Unless the goose egg shrank a lot, my bangs were not going to hide this.
Finding my eyes in the mirror again, I smiled at my reflection. “Well, Mace,” I said to myself, “you survived the shower from hell. If that’s the worst they throw at you, you’ll be fine.”
I briefly wondered how in the world I was going to frame this episode to Miranda. I was the one that went through it, and I hardly believed it.
My encounter with NOLA did have one positive side effect. I was now wide awake. I would have no trouble focusing on my question list.
I stepped away from the mirror and walked to the light switch. Suddenly, it occurred to me why Catman had that smirk on his face when he suggested that I enjoy my shower.
Someone was going to pay. Where was that notepad!
Chapter 6
I could sleep just about anywhere, so I was not surprised that I slept well in my new accommodations, especially given the comfiness of the bed. What was surprising was my unexpected wake up call.
I sat bolt upright in bed with arms and legs askew, gripping the covers like a lifeline. It took me more than a minute to be conscience of the fact that one, I was awake, and two, why.
Filling the room, playing ridiculously loud, was the familiar refrain of Reveille.
It sounded like it was coming from the bed itself. I had a moment of panic where I feared this could be another automated monstrosity. It had looked like a normal bed when I crawled in last night, but I was now regretting my decision to forego the inspection.
I glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed. It said it was five thirty in the morning. It was my normal wake up time, but it didn’t feel like it. I just wanted to go back to sleep, but that wasn’t going to happen with a bugler on the loose in my room.
I chuckled a little. Bugler on the loose. That was kind of funny.
Pushing my matted hair behind my ears, I slowly edged along the top of the bed in the direction of the music. When I didn’t see anything, I slid from the bed and inched closer to the footboard. I used my knuckle to tap against what I thought had been wrought iron work on the leg. It was actually cloth. I was looking at a speaker.
Moving over to the other leg of the bed, I verified my conclusion. Yep, there was a speaker embedded there too.
This left me with one simple question. What the heck was wrong with these people? Couldn’t a bed just be a bed and a shower a shower? What was next? Was I going to have to fight the toaster for breakfast?
I forced myself to a stand with a renewed sense of determination. I knew hands down who’d win that fight. No one and no altered device was going to come between me and my breakfast. With Reveille still blaring, I marched into the kitchen.
As I went, it occurred to me that the wake-up call was probably Olivia’s doing, retribution for her embarrassment last night. That was okay. Let cheese face have her laugh. I’d plot my revenge later, after breakfast and any potential battles awaiting me there.
Saying a silent prayer for normalcy, I opened the fridge. Much to my relief, it offered no resistance. The contents were not too bad either.
I took a deep breath, nearly gagging on the smell of roses coming from the soap. I seriously needed to rinse the rest of the soap off. Cutting my eyes in the direction of the monstrous tub, I regarded another potential foe. After a moment, I decided I just couldn’t do it. I was not up to any more fights with plumbing tonight.
Instead, I opted for the known quantity, the nice normal sink. The sink was safe. The sink was my friend. Good thing the sink was deep. I had a lot of hair.
Having rinsed off the majority of the soap, I stood wrapped in a towel, staring at myself in the mirror again. Should I get ice for my head? Unless the goose egg shrank a lot, my bangs were not going to hide this.
Finding my eyes in the mirror again, I smiled at my reflection. “Well, Mace,” I said to myself, “you survived the shower from hell. If that’s the worst they throw at you, you’ll be fine.”
I briefly wondered how in the world I was going to frame this episode to Miranda. I was the one that went through it, and I hardly believed it.
My encounter with NOLA did have one positive side effect. I was now wide awake. I would have no trouble focusing on my question list.
I stepped away from the mirror and walked to the light switch. Suddenly, it occurred to me why Catman had that smirk on his face when he suggested that I enjoy my shower.
Someone was going to pay. Where was that notepad!
Chapter 6
I could sleep just about anywhere, so I was not surprised that I slept well in my new accommodations, especially given the comfiness of the bed. What was surprising was my unexpected wake up call.
I sat bolt upright in bed with arms and legs askew, gripping the covers like a lifeline. It took me more than a minute to be conscience of the fact that one, I was awake, and two, why.
Filling the room, playing ridiculously loud, was the familiar refrain of Reveille.
It sounded like it was coming from the bed itself. I had a moment of panic where I feared this could be another automated monstrosity. It had looked like a normal bed when I crawled in last night, but I was now regretting my decision to forego the inspection.
I glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed. It said it was five thirty in the morning. It was my normal wake up time, but it didn’t feel like it. I just wanted to go back to sleep, but that wasn’t going to happen with a bugler on the loose in my room.
I chuckled a little. Bugler on the loose. That was kind of funny.
Pushing my matted hair behind my ears, I slowly edged along the top of the bed in the direction of the music. When I didn’t see anything, I slid from the bed and inched closer to the footboard. I used my knuckle to tap against what I thought had been wrought iron work on the leg. It was actually cloth. I was looking at a speaker.
Moving over to the other leg of the bed, I verified my conclusion. Yep, there was a speaker embedded there too.
This left me with one simple question. What the heck was wrong with these people? Couldn’t a bed just be a bed and a shower a shower? What was next? Was I going to have to fight the toaster for breakfast?
I forced myself to a stand with a renewed sense of determination. I knew hands down who’d win that fight. No one and no altered device was going to come between me and my breakfast. With Reveille still blaring, I marched into the kitchen.
As I went, it occurred to me that the wake-up call was probably Olivia’s doing, retribution for her embarrassment last night. That was okay. Let cheese face have her laugh. I’d plot my revenge later, after breakfast and any potential battles awaiting me there.
Saying a silent prayer for normalcy, I opened the fridge. Much to my relief, it offered no resistance. The contents were not too bad either.
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