Mucked Up (14 page)
End of Chapter 1 (the whole book actually, because I am the hero and I am dead).
You’re not supposed to call it a handicapped toilet.
A lady who was disabled came to our school to talk to us about disabilities and told us it’s bad to call it that – she said a handicapped toilet would be a toilet that sat in a wheelchair and was blind and had no arms. That is a disabled person joke and none of us knew if we were allowed to laugh at it, so none of us did. The disabled lady told us we were meant to call them ‘accessible toilets’ which is a stupid name for them because they’re not accessible at all, only disabled people are allowed to use them.
But I’m thinking of using one right now. It’s the one right here, just outside the library.
I’m really busting and no one is around so no one will know I used it.
Have a peek through the door.
…
Ooooooooo.
Big and clean and white … little handrails you can hold onto … a floor-flusher that you step on … you step on it with your foot … disabled people are SOOOOO lucky.
Full library pee-urge is engaged and I can’t be bothered running all the way down the corridor to the B Block boys toilets. You know, this may be the most scary and crazy thing I’ve ever done in my life but what the hell: today is Muck Up Day, it’s a day with no rules and no normalness, just gorillas and Smurfs and bins on footy posts. So if you’re going to do something like use a handicapped toilet, today is the day to do it …
Going in.
Lawwwwd … not even a toilet really … this is a hotel room in a rich skyscraper hotel.
You could sleep in here.
I’m going to pee and flush with the foot-flusher. Is that all you do? Just step on it with your foot? Can’t believe I’m going to actually flush with my—
‘
GETTTTTTT OUT
!’
Boniqa Newitt has come in because I forgot to lock the door. She has been running and is breathing hard because it is an effort for her to run.
‘
THIS IS NOT YOUR TOILET
!’
‘Let go, Boniqa.’ She’s got my arm and is trying to drag me out.
‘
HIDE IN YOUR OWN TOILET
!’
She’s pretty strong actually, she almost has me out.
‘
I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW DISRESPECTFUL YOU ARE TO PEOPLE WITH DISABILITIES, GET OUT, QUICK, THEY’RE COMING
!’ She pushes me out of the door then shuts it, click-locks it and now she’s safe inside and I’m out here in the corridor.
‘Who’s coming, Boniqa?’ She won’t answer back through the door. ‘Who you hiding from?’
Squeaaaaak … squeaakkkkk …
Outside B Block, I see them; coming up the wheelchair ramp that goes to the handicapped toilet. Seven of them, in short skirts and nice shirts. Riding scooters.
Superspicy-Girlz on Scooters.
They haven’t seen me so I push myself flat against the toilet door because I don’t know what to do. No point in running, no way can I run faster than a super-spicy-girl on a scooter.
Squeaaaaak …
Their scooter wheels are squeaking as they try to ride up the wheelchair ramp. It’s not easy, see how the ramp turns halfway up? One girl at the back is holding a video camera and is trying to film and ride at the same time and she is having trouble doing that. The one at the front stops and turns round to talk to her.
Be careful of the camera, Megan, it belongs to
Ranga’s dad / Alright I’m being careful
They are super-spicy. Their shirts are undone low and you can see a bit of bra just showing at the top. They also have shopping bags hanging on their scooter handles. There is probably something bad inside those shopping bags. I try to open the handicapped toilet door again but it is still click-locked: ‘Boniqa, please! Open up! They have shopping bags with something inside.’
The front girl is at the top of the ramp and the others girlz are close behind her and the camera girl is filming up the back. They are opening the double doors that come into B Block.
Ready? / Yeah / Make sure you film everything,
Megan
They are reaching into their shopping bags.
A bunch of Year 7s come out the library door and the front girl yells ‘JIZZ RAID!’ then the rest of the girlz scooter in, right past me at the door like they haven’t seen me, heading for the Year 7s coming out of the library. They start chucking little balloons in different colours. Little balloons are going everywhere, splattering white paste on the floor and on the library wall and on the Year 7s who are running this way and that like crazy ants with their hands over their faces, yelling ‘Ahhh … sick … ahhhhh!’
Mrs Gaffnee’s sticking her head out the library door and yelling but she can’t stop the Jizz Raid, all she can do is go ‘
HEY!
…
HEY!
… HEY! HEYYYYY!
HEYYYYYYYY!
’
I am legging it down B Block, away from the library down to the gym end. It’s hard to run with a full bladder, pee sloshing round in me, but I will not stop.
Nobody ever goes into the B Block boys toilets. It has a bad smell that you can smell from far away, like near the front school fence if it’s a day with a bit of a breeze. Any time you walk past these toilets you have to decide whether to breathe through your nose or through your mouth: if you breathe through your nose then your nose will bleed. Breathe through your mouth and the smell gets stuck on your tongue and you can taste B Block Boys Toilet for the rest of the day.
But I have to go into B Block Boys Toilets because I still have library pee-urge and also because the Superspicy-Girlz on Scooters will never find me in here. NO girl would ever go in here, even if they were on fire and they needed water to put themselves out, they’d rather just stand outside in the corridor and burn to death. Go in with my hand blocking my mouth and nose, trying to breathe air through my skin like a lizard. Think it’s kind of working so I will continue breathing this way.
If the accessible toilets are a fancy skyscraper hotel room, then the opposite of the accessible toilets are the B Block boys toilets. They are the dirty slums of India like in that doco Mum made us all watch because she’s into all that caring about poor people biz. Pretty dark in here and the air is kind of wet. Something slippery is in puddles over the ground so I walk carefully and try not to step on it. Taps are against one wall. A couple of toilet cubicles are against the other wall: one of them has a door on it, and the other one has no door and inside there is a toilet with no toilet seat. A urinal is against the third wall: it’s long and metal and there is lots of sloppy stuff in it and bits of rubbish that won’t flush down. I go straight to the urinal and unzip and get ready for a well-earned leak. C’mon, pee, come out. Waiting, waiting, breathing through my lizard skin, c’mon …
This is the thing about pee-urges, I get them in libraries but I don’t get them in public toilets. Whenever I need to pee in a public toilet, my bladder won’t open. It’s like it gets pee-nervous. Everything shuts off down there and nothing comes out.
Please … come out … just today …
Pleeeeeeeez…
…
…
C’mon bladder …
Just today …
Pleeeeeeeeeez …
?????????
Just saw it: down the end of the urinal, in the floor-goo, standing in the corner, the pig must’ve come into the toilets while I have been standing here. I look at the pig and the pig looks at me then I zip up because it’s weird to be standing in front of a pig unzipped.
It’s got blue and yellow marks on its ears where it must’ve touched paint. Its nappy is still hanging off a bit. Its skin is all slippery with Vaseline. And it’s all toilety on its feet from walking in here.
Probably should help it. It’s just a baby. Should I pick it up? Never picked up a pig before. Do they bite?
‘Come here … c’mon little piggy.’
FLARPING FLARP
—
Freaked me out. It just took off, running past me, skidding on the slippery floor then running out the door. Last thing I see is its little nappy dragging off the back as it goes out.
Haha. Funny little sumo-pig.
Okay, need to relax and get back to my library pee-urge but I don’t think the urinal is helping. Sometimes it helps when I go somewhere private like a cubicle. I’m not going to go in the one with no door and no toilet seat, not really the privacy I need. So I go in the other one with a door. Close the door and turn the little door-lock thing but the lock is broken and the door opens up by itself so I have to hold it closed with one foot behind me.
This cubicle is even more stenchy than the urinal. I can’t even breathe through my skin, I’m not breathing at all anymore. Must do this fast. Unzip, let’s give this another go …
C’mon … come out …
Pleeeeeez, bladder…
…
WORK, BLADDER, JUST BLOODY
WORK
, WILLYA …
Maybe some toilet-reading will relax me, that helps sometimes. On the wall over the toilet there are lots of tags with dicks ’n’ balls, some rude swears. Someone called Adam has written ‘ADAM HAD A ROARING GOOD POO’ in big lettering which is interesting information.
C’mon …
How does a poo roar? Adam must’ve been really proud if he could be bothered writing it down.
Next to it someone’s written rude stuff about a chick named Justine who is ‘good in bed’ and it even tells you in lots of detail.
Who is Justine? Can girls really do that? Wonder if Jarrell is going to do that with Jack S. She can do that as much as she likes, happy to leave her to it.
…relax …
…almost…
…here we go...
Footsteps come into the toilets and my bladder closes down again.
Someone is pushing my toilet door a bit so I have to push back with my foot to stop it opening. Then the footsteps go into the cubicle next to this one with no door or toilet seat, and there is a sniffing noise inside.
‘Sumo-pig?’
More sniffing noises.
‘Is that you, piggy?’ But the pig does not answer.
Lots more running footsteps come into the toilets. Don’t know how many people have come in but it sounds like hundreds.
