The Truth Comes Out In The Wash

The Truth Comes Out In The Wash

When Charles and I had to wash our clothes we had to go out to do them. It was a big task it just took time away from doing better things. Time we could be riding in our jeep or going to the movies, etc. Other things besides public laundry. It was Friday, we did this on that night so we would have Sat. and Sun. to do anything we wanted. I asked him if he wanted to go this time. "No, I'll stay here and listen for the phone in case you have been in an accident or have an emergency." Nice of him to be so concerned. "I have a present for you." I said. He looked at me beaming. I walked over to him, put my hand behind my back, like he does his, and pulled out his present and dropped it. He caught it before it hit the ground. Why couldn't things suddenly appear out of nowhere like he makes objects appear so magically? "It feels like a book, can I open it?" he asked. "Will you go with me tonight, doesn't matter what the title is?" I said with hope in my voice. He looked at his book , then at me. Then at the book and said, "Let us draw straws." "No! I was cheated last time and the time before, should I go on and count the ways." He held his head down not in shame or embarrassment but looking at his present. He finally opened it. Delighted he said it was just what he wanted: Space Odyssey: 2010.  He changed clothes into new khakis, and a black T-shirt, blacksocks, and tan shoes. Everything was new. He was always coming out with something shiny and new. "People are going to think we can't afford to buy a washer and dryer because you are wearing new clothes," I said. He replied like a professor explaining, "No, they are going to think we ran out of clothes and had to go out an get something to wear instead of dirty clothes. I'm thinking, should I stay home with the used clothes that I was wearing?  He loaded the car, took his book with him and a few minutes we were there. So many people. He was armed with dirty clothes and I'm armed with clean fresh smelling detergent. Where was his book? I looked behind his black casual jacket. Surely it wasn't there, somewhere. He helped me load the washers, soap, and coins. Everything was started. We sat down, he asked if I wanted something to drink or a snack since I didn't eat anything. How sweet. We shared a soda and battled over the candybars that we ended up sharing. Kids were everywhere, their parents weren't paying attention. Single girls and boys. Men and women. Charles started reading his book. He saw me get up with the fabric softener and helped me with the machines.  People were watching him and whispering. But they were smiling. Some of the women were smacking their significant other half on the arms and backs. Charles managed to get a few dirty looks and he would just take my hand and nod and smile at them. I walked closer to him smiling at the women. We sat down, talked, each giving turns talking about our day at work. People were looking at me because when Charles told me his adventures on his postal route, it was always funny, I was laughing so hard that the children crying couldn't be heard. After our talking and laughing ceased, he went back to his book. This time when I went to change the clothes to the dryer he didn't notice. I had the Bounce sheets with me. Standing by the dryers going with our clothes in them, this muscular man in his late 30's approached me and gave me his name, Leroy, and his phone number and asked if I would like to have dinner and a movie with him out of town. I said to him, "That is my husband over there." "The old guy or the yuppie with his nose in the book." he asked. What Leroy didn't know was the my "Yuppie" had many trainers from boxing, wrestling, and so many different martial arts you could imagine. Charles never counted black belts or medals. He wasn't fond of bragging and didn't like to here how high people competed and won. His friends told me "Charles's rule was five or less. If it took more than five chances to put someone out or cry mercy then everything beyond that was show and tell.  Many people tried to challenge him in front of their friends. Charles didn't have patience when it came to fighting. At the end, he would always help the person up ask if he was ok and if they could spar together friend to friend and if the wounded and the battered person would like to join him for a drink along with his friends. I saw him fight a few times, he played music in a bar, sometimes fights happen. It was usually over some drunk guy being verbally or physically mean to a girl, but when I did see him fight, it always looked choreographed with flowing movements. The most I had seen him reach was four to finish the poor soul down and out. The wounded soul was a biker. Later, us and the bikers all had drinks and a lot in common from dogs to traveling. They stayed in touch for a long time. Like most of the people we met. Word spreads in the music circuit. He had some strangers come to him offering him money to do some damage to someone. Charles would say I have this uncle Ralph, people call him Ralphie, he was just one of my trainers, here's his number, give him a call, he owes me a favor. That was that. What the people found out when they called and asked for Ralph, Ralph would say people don't call me Ralph. They would respond and say Ralphie. His uncle would set up a meeting. Ralph and Ralphie wasn't his real name and he was an undercover police officer. He new Charles had sent him a live one. A bad seed. Back to Leroy, "Charles," I yelled over the screaming and yelling that came from the parents and children, "Please come quickly." He was up and over in record time. He looked stared at Leroy's eyes, extended his right hand and asked charmingly, "Who is our new acquaintance." I gave Charles Leroy's number. "This is Leroy, he is interested in the Space Odyssey's also." I looked at Leroy then at Charles. Charles bore into the guy's soul then reached and grab his hand and shook it with both of his. Charles would not let go. "It's a pleasure, and we have two things in common. Do you have a significant other? Do you come here often, alone?" Leroy's mouth fell open, word's wouldn't come out. Charles released his hands after a short time. Leroy was looking at his red hand and white knuckles. He finally looked and saw Charles put his number in his wallet. "We will be calling you to get together to watch one of the movies or just discuss the book or maybe even a sequel." He said it in such a serious tone. Leroy wanted to say something, Charles stayed by my side and did not move until Leroy went away.  People stopped watching. Both of us walked away together. Me holding my husband's hand. I told Charles what the guy really said to me. "The guy did look like as if he worked out a lot, do you ever think I should get that muscular?" Looking at me with a glint he took care of something not right. He went back to his book. He was so engrossed with it by now I was able to fold and load the car without him. I was standing over him, "Are you ready to go.? He looked up in shock. "Is it time to change the clothes?" he asked. He looked around, shut his book, took my hand, helped me into the car, and we left. "All those people watched you fold and load, how embarrassing, they must think your married to a jerk. Why did you not get me." I was laughing. It's very seldom do I make him feel like he didn't have a lead. "Never Again." plain statement he said. I never asked if he called Leroy, I didn't want to know the details. I came home after work the next day, went inside, saw Charles just wearing blackjogging pants, he was upside down on his head and hands a few feet from the wall. This wasn't unusual. He did all kinds of meditations and workouts. "Let me join you," I said excitingly. "No," he said in fear. Then stretched out his arms. All his weight was pouring down to his neck and head. He now was doing an upside down split. I went to the wall and was trying to get up, he put his hands down, spun around, with one hand pushing on my stomach and one leg pushing on my feet, I was upside down. We were facing each other. How romantic. "I can spread my legs too." gleefully smiling. His eyes widened with the inevitable. I fell down into his middle. We were tangled. I struggled free. I was fine. He was in a fetal position. Trying not to scream, tears coming out from the corner of his eyes. "I hurt you, I'm sorry." My knee hurt. How hard did I land on him? Him nodding yes very fast over and over. I was able to get him on the sofa. I went to the kitchen, gathered a towel, ice and a glass of cold water. I set everything in front of him. What does he do? He sits up, puts the towel around his neck, puts the ice in the water and begins to drink. The next day I come home he is upside down again this time socks were added to protect the toe I apparently broken from yesterday. If he hadn't been so close to the coffeetable. . .This time he said I could join him. I said his pants looked funny, I bent over to look upside down, right side up. "Is that a cup you are wearing?" "Yes it is," he said delightfully. I joined him. "Your front looks really weird now." trying to find out the real story. " I got the biggest cup the sports store had," without shame or embarrassment he added. Before I could speak, he said "I know you, I've seen the wraith you can do when you tumble, you have flattened rock to earth level, I do not want my manhood embedded in my colon, it could be a long time until medical science can restore the damage you inflict upon me. We both laughed got down to normal level, our clothes came off. After that, we both didn't want to go out to do the clothes but it had to be done.  He went to the shower in the guest bathroom, I went to the bedroom bathroom. The clothes were already separated. How nice. I heard him singing Into the Night. It sounded as if MichealCrawford was in the next room. I started humming Crazy For You. A far cry from Madonna. I ran into the bathroom he was in and started singing If Your happy Clap Your Hands. If Your... He picked me up and I was in the hotwater with him. We were swapping songs. Then the cold water sprayed us, we both were pushing and shoving each other to get out. When we were out, the Shower liner and curtain lay victimized on the floor. We were shivering. We got dressed in the bedroom. I was just about to gather the clothes up and he pulled me on his lap and sat on the bed. "Do not touch them," he said, "they are clean." He reached over and picked up one of his tighty whitey's and held them up to my face and said, "Smell." This was beyond reason. I stretched to reach in the colors for my lawn shirt that read: I'm with Stupid. He had to have one custom made that read: She Paid Me. I don't know what I hated more, the humor or the sheer insults.  I looked at my shirt, it was so very small. I was turning it around and around, I don't remember it looking tie dye. He snatched it out of my hand. I twisted out of his arms and fell to the floor, he was next to me in less than a second. Both of us on our hands and knees. "Where are the sheets"? I asked. "On the bed." he said. I looked at the denim. All of them looked as though white out had been sprinkled all over the place. I turned to the bedspread, pulled it off and our yellow sheets looked like a bad Monet painting. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. I looked at him in shock. He held my shoulders and whispered in my ear, "If you look at the whites," which I did and they were spotted with what looked to be our dark clothes, "They were the last load and he noticed the whites to be brighter than the previous loads because they were last and I think they look a brighter whiter." He was looking at me and smiling ear to ear. His eyes sparkling. Why? I couldn't be mad, he had taken the time to go out and do this by himself, probably because I called him earlier and cried about the bad day I had at work. What a wonderful man I had married. He ruined our wardrobe out of love. I hugged him. Forgetting about digging any deeper knowing that my favorite shirts were now to small and colorized. We both helped each other to our feet, we went to the living room and sat down on the sofa. He said we would go shopping instead to the mountains like we had planned. His excuse was that we both needed new hikingshoes and why not check out the clothing sales. He could use some new suits and I should get somethings for myself. How kind. Some may think he did this on purpose, but I know him. It was an accidental sabotage on our clothing. He took care of washing the outside siding and I took care of the inside clothing. Sometimes I would help him with the siding, but bodily accidents usually happens when we are both together. We planned our trip, cut coupons, gathered sales ads. It was fun. We called to have Mexican food delivered to our house. We both loved spicy food and challenged each other who would give first on the hottest. He always won. Even when the tears came, the sneezes, the ears burning, the coughing. He would not give. I lost with all the symptoms in pain. We watched back to back episodes of Who's Line Is It Anyways. After we cleaned everything up, he said he bought bigger yogamats and weights for both of us that he had put in the utility room. I couldn't just ignore that comment or the new workout apparatus. I went to get the goods. I opened the door and to my left was a new washer and dryer. I didn't hear him but he was standing behind me. " I did the laundry, will you teach me?" he asked with sincerity. He was hugging me from behind my back while this was taking place. I held his arms and said, "forever." Now today the laundry is light, the showers are solo and there are not any more sing-a-longs. Every morning I ask God, "How long do I have to wait?"