down the drain

for the Scared Much challenge on MomzillaNC's poetry challenge posted by TL Boehm caution, strong language, disturbing themes of child abuse

      Many different things creep people out. Kim even heard one about a lady who had an irrational fear of spoons. Now, how hard would that make it to function in society? Kim thought. She knew her own fears were completely justified.  There was no reason to fear a utensil. There was plenty of reason to fear drain wookies.

     As part of her personal safety plan, Kim followed a rigid structure every morning. Each drain was cleared twice and rinsed. A look in her bathroom closet would lead a person to conclude the home was plagued by bad drains. Neatly lined up, on any given day, were at least eight bottles of drain cleaner. Never less than eight… never more than ten -- industrial strength, but the variety that was supposedly less harmful to the environment. Kim might have her hangups, but she didn't want to harm the planet in her quest to rid her world of her greatest fear.

 

    This weekend, she was packing for a trip. She carefully wrapped one of her stash in plastic to take with her. Can't be too careful, she thought. Kim always took drain cleaner with her, even to nice hotels. They were the worst places to find the source of her greatest anxiety. Her ex used to laugh at her fear. He never took her seriously. But she knew why… she knew when she’d learned of that evil; it was that day:

 

     “Kimmie, hun, can you come here and help uncle Eldin with the sink?” Kim hated it when uncle Eldin called her “Kimmie.” By his tone, she knew he was drunk, and she'd likely get a kick in the a*s if she didn't hop to. She didn't like the way uncle Eldin looked at her, but he was her only grownup kin; her parents were killed by a drunk driver. She and her brother Max figured: he might be a mean b*****d but he beat the hell out of the Children's Aid people.

 

    Kim ran to the bathroom. She was twelve. On the cusp of becoming a woman, but still very much a girl in her mind. She wore her dirty blonde hair tied back. She had a freckled face and sparkling blue eyes that were startling to look at. She would become a beautiful woman. But for now, she still liked to play with dolls, and thought boys were icky. Uncle Eldin was trying to fix the sink. He was underneath the sink, in a T-shirt and undershorts. Kim tried not to notice that his "thing" was poking against the material. 

 

"Yes, uncle Eldin,” Kim said quietly. She suddenly wished she had more clothes on than a T-Shirt and shorts, with no bra. She didn't like the way her uncle looked at her sometimes, it gave her the creeps. His brown hair was always greasy, and he often went unshaven. The kids at school made fun of him.

 

"Okay, girl, you stand right over that drain. It's clogged with something. You tell me when it comes up."

 

    The next thing Kim remembered, she was running from the bathroom crying. For some reason, parts of her hurt that had never hurt before. And there was Eldin, laughing, his pink thing hard and poking out of his shorts. 

 

"What's the matter, little Kimmie," he said, "It ain't nothing but a drain wookie." He was holding up an enormous clump of hair and slime that came out of the drain.

 

      Two days after the “drain wookie" incident, Children's services came to investigate the household. There were repeated complaints from multiple sources of bruises on the children. She and her brother were taken into care. They were placed in separate group homes, and uncle Eldin never fought to get them back. Kimmie had assumed he saw it as a blessing. 

 

      Now uncle Eldin needed her, all these years later. She didn't know why she agreed to come, but she guessed it was that old guilt. After all, he had taken them in when there was no one else.  On second thought, Kimmie opted to pack all the drain cleaner. Who knows what might be lingering in that old place after all these years? 

 

      The trip itself was unremarkable. She texted Max a couple of times, who thought she was nuts going back to help that old prick. She loved her brother, and she understood. He was the recipient of the worst of the beatings when they were kids. 

 

      Pulling into her old home town it felt like so much had changed, yet many remained exactly as they’d always been. She rounded the corner to the old place. It was on a dead end road at the outskirts of town. The next closest home was a half kilometre away. There was a knot in the pit of her stomach. Now, where the hell had that come from? The two-story transplanted "war time" house was a little more run down -- it had white aluminum siding, now twenty years older and worse for wear -- and the yard was as poorly maintained as ever. She wasn’t looking forward to this.  

 

     It's only a couple of weeks, she told herself. She was already thinking she might just opt for a hotel and help her uncle just during the day. 

 

      The smell of the place hit her as soon as she’d walked in. Musty, garbage, body odour and urine. Stronger than when she was a kid, she thought. A lot of odours can seep into the boards and crumbling plaster in twenty years.

 

     Uncle Eldin was sitting on the living room chair. Most the furniture was the same, except for the television, which was a newer knock off brand flat screen, undoubtedly purchased at his favourite white trash big box store. 

 

"Kimmie," he smiled, straightening up and shifting his sweat pants to disguise the unseemly bulge. 

 

He was missing a couple more teeth, but his grin was ugly with or without them. Some things would never change. Kim cringed at the sound of his pet name for her, even now. 

 

"How are you, uncle?" Kim asked, before having the chance to correct herself.

 

"Well how the hell do you think I am? Gotta sit on my a*s for dang near two more weeks, pissin’ and shittin’ in a bag.” He looked her up and down. “My, but, oh my, you sure grew up fine.”

 

Kim felt the bile rising in her throat. "Umm, you have a nurse for that right?”

 

"Yes, I do, Kimmie,” Eldin smiled, "Don't you worry, you got no need to handle my balls, 'less you want to." 

 

     Something in Kim clicked. She had to shake the image of a drain wookie forming in her mind. Now why would she think of that? A flash of her uncle, under the sink, then it was gone. 

 

"Okay, well, I will clean and set up meals, but I have some friends to see, so I will sleep in town.”

 

Uncle Eldin seemed disappointed, but nodded in acceptance. "Uh huh.”

 

     Kim busied herself for the rest of the day cleaning. She mostly ignored uncle Eldin, but occasionally stopped to get him something, or make random conversation. He was on a fair amount of drugs after the operation. She felt a little sorry for him, despite the fact he hadn’t been very nice to her and Max as kids. Facing a colostomy and cancer treatment all by oneself would not be an easy thing.

 

     By the time she was done, it was early evening. She could book a motel tomorrow. She had cleaned the upstairs and her old bed. It wouldn't kill her to spend the night. She was so tired. She’d driven three hours and worked seven. That was enough for one day. Kim prepared dinner for herself and uncle Eldin, who visibly brightened at the prospect of her staying the night. "You always was a good little helper, my Kimmie." 

     Something about the way uncle Eldin said that sent a shiver down Kim's spine. She dismissed it. He was just trying to be nice. 

 

    After supper, a simple Hamburger and noodle dish Kim whipped up (there wasn't much else to prepare) that uncle Eldin raved over like it was prime rib, Kim hung out watching TV. They didn't talk much, and her uncle soon fell asleep. Kimmie brought some drain cleaner with her to the bathroom, gave the sink and tub a double dose of drain cleaner even though she’d done it earlier, had a shower and dressed for bed in the bathroom. She never had felt comfortable dressing around her uncle, even as a kid. She ascended the stairs to her old room with a mixed sense of nostalgia and trepidation. She was remembering the months after her parent's death, before uncle Eldin started losing his temper more and more often. There were times back in those early days she felt safe here. Sometimes she missed mom and dad so bad it was a physical ache. 

 

     Kim slept fitfully in her old twin bed. Something was clawing at the back of her mind, trying to fight its way out. Suddenly, she was back in the bathroom with uncle Eldin, although he was old and creepy like he was in the present, wearing a colostomy bag. She had always remembered the terrifying incident as being something to do with the drain clog. But now, in her adult mind, she saw things she hadn't allowed herself to see back then.

 

    Kim was leaning over the sink, looking into the drain. She felt like an adult in her head, but she looked down and could see the body of a child. She had small, budding breasts that were poking uncomfortably against her, making her feel self-conscious. Uncle Eldin was looking at her with a glint in his eye. His thing was now poking straight out of the gap in his shorts. It was a trick of the dream that he was both agile and post-operative at the same time, adding to the horror of it all. He stood up. 

 

     "You like that, don't you Kimmie," he said, moving her hands to touch his thing. She was terrified, but paralyzed, watching her little girl's body do what her uncle asked. He rubbed it on her. He told her to put her mouth on it. She did as she was asked, tears welling in her eyes. She so wished he would just beat her right now. Anything was better than this. 

 

     He told her, “Get up, I am going to see if you have a nice wet p***y." The feeling was terrifying as he touched her. It hurt as he pushed his fingers in, and the dawning horror of what he wanted to do. It hurt so bad when he put his thing in her, getting more and more excited, telling her awful things, as she bent over the sink and looked into the drain. 

 

"Oh you are so good, you little s**t," he said, "You like this." He took his thing out, and Kim was relieved for a minute, until she realized he was not done. "Now for the way your brother likes it," he said. 

 

     Kim woke with a start in the dark room. With a clarity she had not had for twenty years she now knew the whys of her fear of drain wookies, and whys of her brother's attitude.  She was seething mad and could not spend another minute in this house. Her bags were still packed. All she had to do was zip them up, and leave the house in her pajamas. She wouldn't even leave the old b*****d a note. 

 

     Kim crept quietly down the stairs and was about to leave when she looked back -- it's just a drain wookie, Kimmie -- in the chair, not her uncle, but a giant, disgusting ball of hair, snot, and slime. It was one mother of a drain wookie, and one she just had to take care of before she left. She tied it securely to the chair so it wouldn't slip. She got out the drain cleaner and set to work. She used some plumbing tools from under the sink. When she was done, she had just enough drain cleaner and other products to start chemical reactions in the bathroom and kitchen. She lit a cigarette and left the cigarette burning beside the thing slumped over in the chair. She vaguely remembered the thing screaming, but then she smashed it with a pipe wrench to shut it up. She untied it once it wasn't moving anymore. Damned drain wookies. They’re everywhere. Kim took her suitcases and headed home. Maybe she would stop at Max's. She would have to stop at the 24 hour drug store on the way to get more drain cleaner. 

 

 Excerpt from the Greeenstone Gazette, October 31, 2014.

A local man dies in his living room chair, after mixing toxic household chemicals in the bathroom and kitchen and sitting down to have a cigarette. According to the Greenstone coroner's office, investigators postulate that the chemicals made Mr. Eldin Couture, 59 years of age, who had recently undergone surgery, dizzy. He appears to have hit his head, sat down in the chair, and lit up a cigarette. Overcome by the combination of post operative drugs and chemical fumes, he must have passed out, and the home caught fire. The house burned quickly due to its age and the combustibles inside. Its remote location meant the fire department was not called until the home was fully engulfed in flames. The cause of death of Mr. Couture appears to be chemical asphyxiation, and will be ruled "Death by misadventure." Foul play has been ruled out as there are no other people who were known to be in the house at the time. 

 

      Max shook his head. Leave it to Greenstone to not investigate thoroughly. Thank God. He looked at his sleeping sister, spending another night on the couch, and put the article away.  There was really no point in telling her now. He would tell her later that uncle Eldin had died, been cremated, and there was to be no memorial, and the house would be destroyed. He suspected Kim's fragile psyche would accept those lies, just as all those years she had held on to her irrational fear. Max himself remembered everything, but felt too ashamed to share with anyone what their uncle had done. Kim showed up at his place in her pajamas the night of October 30, after the day she went to help uncle Eldin. She apparently had no memory of what happened. She had simply told Max uncle Eldin wasn't there but she cleaned up all his drain wookies. Let her believe that's all she did. It's not like the b*****d didn't deserve it. 

 

    


 


 

Author's Note

This was supposed to be a 500 word story. That's just where it went at
a whopping 2491 words.
This is a revised version thanks to the help of John Gabriel and MomzillaNC.

Reviews

[NoelHC]

A powerful write, I found myself relating to stories a close friend told me of her experiences being abused as a toddler and young girl. I could understand why as an adult something could just snap, as you described so well here.

[Lyn Anderson]

Thank you, I appreciate it. My original intention was a horror story about drain wookies, and this is what came out.

[redzone]

I think KL this IS a horror story... glad she survived and maybe she will at some point remember her revenge on "drain wookies"... sorry Noel, had to intrude here..

[NoelHC]

Well, RZ, what my friend described to me was a "horror" story, much as KL's story here is one.

[Lyn Anderson]

Oh it is, just not the original one that I thought might come out.

[redzone]

and glaqd your friend survived her ordeal... sometimes real life is more horribloe that our "make believe" stories...

[redzone]

and then there is my trying to type fast horrors of spelling HA!

[Lyn Anderson]

ha ha very funny. I don't correct reviews. That would just be too snotty.:)

[redzone]

remember though KL this is me you are talking to, mis-speller supremo, but as punishment just don't make me look into any drains, okay... ;0)

[icelandicblue]

I was spellbound. What a great story teller you are. Your character development of the two main characters was absolutely amazing. My hat is off to you my dear. Brava!

[Lyn Anderson]

Thank you so much. I appreciate it. It really was just supposed to be a fun horror story about a drain wookie, and then it just morphed into something else. I am flattered, as I consider you a very good writer. Thank you.