May These Noises Startle You at Night
Spencer
Well, at least it’s far different from St. Mary’s. Except the rooms look the same; white walls, a bed with pale blue sheets and white pillows, a white dresser and a wooden chair in the corner. Thankfully, there isn’t a bible in sight in this place. I take a deep breath but there air is completely odourless. It is a little strange, but a little comforting at the same time. There is no strong scent of rosemary or any other type of popery. My bag is sitting in the corner of the room by the door, in a puddle of water that had leaked out while I was sleeping. I should really check to see if there is a dryer somewhere around here and maybe a washer considering the bag is covered in mud. So are the clothes I’m wearing. I purse my lips and spin in a 360, looking around the room again before I scoop up my bag with my fingertips because I really don’t want to get any more wet or muddy. I start down the halls and look around and quickly realize, I have no freakin’ idea where I’m going. I take my chances and head down the left wing and around the corner. I run head first into a person. Well, a person’s chest more so. I take a step back and look at the guy; he’s huge. Okay, maybe not that big, I more hit his shoulder than his chest, but he’s still big. Like, strong and tall and tough and the kind of guy that belongs on a high school football team and should be shoving gay kids like me into lockers. I take another step back and look at his face. He’s got charcoal hair and a charcoal...six maybe five o’clock shadow along his jaw line to match. Depends on where in the world you are and during what season. It’s a fall 6 o’clock shadow, but summer 8 o’clock. His eyes are dark brown and small, like skinny small.
“Oh, sorry about that.” He says. His voice is smooth like honey.
I shake my head, a little bit longer than necessary. “Nah, it’s okay. I usually run into walls all the time anyway. At least you’re a bit softer than a wall.” Did I really just call him soft? Great job, Spencer.
He chuckles and nods. “I guess so.”
We both pause and then I realize there is a dark spot on his shirt from where he – well I ran into him with my wet and dirty back pack. “Oh shit. Sorry about that.” I say, pointing at the spot.
He shakes his head and shrugs one of his boulder shoulders. “It’s all good.” He gives me a smile after that which hits me like a brick. “I’m Keaton, by the way.”
He sticks out his hand and I shake it, smiling back at him like an idiot. “I’m Spencer.” I introduce.
“Nice to meet ya, kid.” And then I was demoted to kid, great.
“Yeah, you too.” I nod. I clear my throat and look around the hall before back at him and realize he doesn’t look like he’s about to move. “Um. Do you know where I can wash my clothes?”
Keaton nods and turns slightly and points down the hallway behind him. “Last door to the right.” He says and looks back at me. “Get caught in the storm last night?”
“Something like that.” I nod. Again. I seriously need to learn to steady my head, I probably look like a damn bobble head.
“Come on, I’ll show you. The machines here are worse than trying to undo a sailor’s knot.” He chuckles again and turns to walk down.
Walk, walk. I have to remind myself to actually walk beside him, not behind him and not just stand still and stare. Left right, left right. I roll my eyes at myself and catch up and walk beside him.
“So, where are you from?” He asks, looking over at me.
“Syracuse.” I say simply and make a serious effort not to nod. “What about you?”
“Toronto.”
“Oh cool.” I purse my lips and almost trip over my feet. I realize then that my shoelaces are undone. I clear my throat and don’t notice he’s stopped and is turning into another room until I run into him. Again. I sigh. “Sorry. Again.”
“You need one of those motion detectors – like they have on boats to let you know when something’s there.” He grins and leads me into a room.
It’s average size with four machines along the wall; two washers and two dryers. One is already running, so I dump my clothes in the vacant one and close it. I look up at the shelf in front of me, but there’s no detergent, only softener. I sigh and tilt my head before turning around to look around, thinking maybe someone didn’t put it back. As I face Keaton, I realize it’s in his hand. I nod and take it from him mumbling something that was supposed to be “Thanks,” but came out more like “Fanks.” I pour some into the little hole and bite my lip. Honestly, I have never done laundry in my life. It was a shock I didn’t pour softener in instead of detergent. I don’t know how much I should put in – I want my clothes clean but I don’t want to be swimming in a bubble bath when I come to get them like they do in the movies. Clearly, I’ve been staring at the soap hole for too long because the guy behind me clears his throat and reaches over to take the detergent. He pours a tiny bit more and spins the cap back on and puts it on the shelf.
“Fanks.” I say again. He nods.
“You’re supposed to measure it in the cap, but way to be a rebel.” He smirks. I chuckle and hang my head slightly. He leans over and hits the buttons, about five times each and I can see what he meant about the machines being difficult. “The other one is a lot easier because it’s newer.” He says. “Unfortunately, everyone’s discovered that.” When he’s done punching in everything necessary to clean my clothes, he stands back up straight beside me. The numbers on the little LED screen aren’t even numbers. One looks like an upside down L or a backward and really straight seven and the other one looks like half of an O or 0.
“…So if I can’t tell the time…how do I know when it’s done?” About a nanosecond after I’m done, the machine creaks and begins to shake violently, letting out a low groaning sound. I jump back, hitting the wall behind me.
Keaton laughs. “When it’s done doing that.”
“Right.” I say and push myself off of the wall. I hop on the dryer that’s not on and swing my legs. I have no idea what to do around here, so I figure I might as well wait for my clothes to wash here so I can switch them and not hog the washing machine. Keaton looks at me and arches a brow. “What?”
“You’re going to sit here for an hour and wait for it to finish?”
“It takes an hour?” I ask, and I can feel my eyes widen. He nods with a small smile. “Well in that case, no.” I say and slip down. I stuff my hands in my pockets and begin to walk out into the hallway. A kid with moppy brown hair flies past me on a skateboard.
“Incoming!” He yells, except he’s already passed me when he does. I fly back and yet again run into Keaton.
I shove myself off immediately and check the halls for any other boys on wheels before I step out. Keaton follows up behind me and says, “that’s Kai.”
“Oh.” I say because I really don’t know what else to say. The kid almost ran me over.
“Yeah. He’s reckless.” He adds.
I nod.
“What room are you in?”
Crap. I didn’t check the number. Or letter. Or whatever combination of the two was on the front of my door. “Uh. I don’t know.”
“Well. I saw you coming from the right wing and it’s not that big. One of the rooms has to be vacant, right?” He shrugs.
I nod.
“Let’s go find it, then.” He smiles and takes a bigger step forward in direction of my room.
“Oh, sorry about that.” He says. His voice is smooth like honey.
I shake my head, a little bit longer than necessary. “Nah, it’s okay. I usually run into walls all the time anyway. At least you’re a bit softer than a wall.” Did I really just call him soft? Great job, Spencer.
He chuckles and nods. “I guess so.”
We both pause and then I realize there is a dark spot on his shirt from where he – well I ran into him with my wet and dirty back pack. “Oh shit. Sorry about that.” I say, pointing at the spot.
He shakes his head and shrugs one of his boulder shoulders. “It’s all good.” He gives me a smile after that which hits me like a brick. “I’m Keaton, by the way.”
He sticks out his hand and I shake it, smiling back at him like an idiot. “I’m Spencer.” I introduce.
“Nice to meet ya, kid.” And then I was demoted to kid, great.
“Yeah, you too.” I nod. I clear my throat and look around the hall before back at him and realize he doesn’t look like he’s about to move. “Um. Do you know where I can wash my clothes?”
Keaton nods and turns slightly and points down the hallway behind him. “Last door to the right.” He says and looks back at me. “Get caught in the storm last night?”
“Something like that.” I nod. Again. I seriously need to learn to steady my head, I probably look like a damn bobble head.
“Come on, I’ll show you. The machines here are worse than trying to undo a sailor’s knot.” He chuckles again and turns to walk down.
Walk, walk. I have to remind myself to actually walk beside him, not behind him and not just stand still and stare. Left right, left right. I roll my eyes at myself and catch up and walk beside him.
“So, where are you from?” He asks, looking over at me.
“Syracuse.” I say simply and make a serious effort not to nod. “What about you?”
“Toronto.”
“Oh cool.” I purse my lips and almost trip over my feet. I realize then that my shoelaces are undone. I clear my throat and don’t notice he’s stopped and is turning into another room until I run into him. Again. I sigh. “Sorry. Again.”
“You need one of those motion detectors – like they have on boats to let you know when something’s there.” He grins and leads me into a room.
It’s average size with four machines along the wall; two washers and two dryers. One is already running, so I dump my clothes in the vacant one and close it. I look up at the shelf in front of me, but there’s no detergent, only softener. I sigh and tilt my head before turning around to look around, thinking maybe someone didn’t put it back. As I face Keaton, I realize it’s in his hand. I nod and take it from him mumbling something that was supposed to be “Thanks,” but came out more like “Fanks.” I pour some into the little hole and bite my lip. Honestly, I have never done laundry in my life. It was a shock I didn’t pour softener in instead of detergent. I don’t know how much I should put in – I want my clothes clean but I don’t want to be swimming in a bubble bath when I come to get them like they do in the movies. Clearly, I’ve been staring at the soap hole for too long because the guy behind me clears his throat and reaches over to take the detergent. He pours a tiny bit more and spins the cap back on and puts it on the shelf.
“Fanks.” I say again. He nods.
“You’re supposed to measure it in the cap, but way to be a rebel.” He smirks. I chuckle and hang my head slightly. He leans over and hits the buttons, about five times each and I can see what he meant about the machines being difficult. “The other one is a lot easier because it’s newer.” He says. “Unfortunately, everyone’s discovered that.” When he’s done punching in everything necessary to clean my clothes, he stands back up straight beside me. The numbers on the little LED screen aren’t even numbers. One looks like an upside down L or a backward and really straight seven and the other one looks like half of an O or 0.
“…So if I can’t tell the time…how do I know when it’s done?” About a nanosecond after I’m done, the machine creaks and begins to shake violently, letting out a low groaning sound. I jump back, hitting the wall behind me.
Keaton laughs. “When it’s done doing that.”
“Right.” I say and push myself off of the wall. I hop on the dryer that’s not on and swing my legs. I have no idea what to do around here, so I figure I might as well wait for my clothes to wash here so I can switch them and not hog the washing machine. Keaton looks at me and arches a brow. “What?”
“You’re going to sit here for an hour and wait for it to finish?”
“It takes an hour?” I ask, and I can feel my eyes widen. He nods with a small smile. “Well in that case, no.” I say and slip down. I stuff my hands in my pockets and begin to walk out into the hallway. A kid with moppy brown hair flies past me on a skateboard.
“Incoming!” He yells, except he’s already passed me when he does. I fly back and yet again run into Keaton.
I shove myself off immediately and check the halls for any other boys on wheels before I step out. Keaton follows up behind me and says, “that’s Kai.”
“Oh.” I say because I really don’t know what else to say. The kid almost ran me over.
“Yeah. He’s reckless.” He adds.
I nod.
“What room are you in?”
Crap. I didn’t check the number. Or letter. Or whatever combination of the two was on the front of my door. “Uh. I don’t know.”
“Well. I saw you coming from the right wing and it’s not that big. One of the rooms has to be vacant, right?” He shrugs.
I nod.
“Let’s go find it, then.” He smiles and takes a bigger step forward in direction of my room.