Episode 5

Rudy awoke in the late afternoon to the din of neighborhood kids over the incessant hum of the largely ineffective air conditioner. Like a punch-drunk Rocky Balboa, he eased himself up from the linoleum canvas. Head pounding, and mind devoid of all thoughts except those of human necessity, he shuffled into the kitchen. He opened up the refrigerator and removed the second of the “Buy One, Get One Free” iced teas he had purchased the previous evening’s grocery excursion. After a long, greedy drag straight from the plastic container, he retrieved the bottle of store-brand ibuprofen the kitchen counter and popped four tablets in his mouth and swallowed. Nothing tastes like a bargain.
The splitting headache and joint pain didn’t matter. He needed to clean up the mess in the bathroom and bedroom. God knows it’s already two-thirds of the way dried on. He grabbed the carpet cleaner, trash can, and two rolls of paper towels and set to work. The smell and sight of the former contents of his stomach set him retching again. Rudy bravely choked down the brew of bile and iced-tea, started breathing through his mouth only, and soldiered on with the task.
After twenty minutes of arduous wiping and scrubbing, the bedroom carpet was returned to its former quasi-clean state. He grabbed his supplies and moved onto the bathroom, warily scuffing past the offending door jamb. Thankfully, this job was a little easier. He methodically wiped the outer part of the toilet with the paper towels and then squirted the inside of the American Standard with foamy cleanser. A few quick circular rubs of the toilet brush, a flick of the flush handle, and mission accomplished.
After stowing the clean-up tools, Rudy removed his offending clothing, tossed them into the hamper, and returned to the bathroom. Mind still devoid of all but necessary thoughts, he deftly adjusted the temperature of the shower to a little less than warm and climbed in. To the rhythmic thrum of the water on the shower curtain, he lathered and even managed a smile devoid of any malice; a rare occurrence these past few months.
After a quick towel off, Rudy donned underwear, olive-drab cargo shorts, and a well worn t-shirt. He gathered his wallet and keys, along with the hamper and laundry supplies. Rudy opened the outside door and his senses were immediately assaulted by the outdoor environment. Stifling heat and humidity immediately set his brow sweating. He could feel the sweat building on the top of his shorn head like rain beads on a freshly waxed car. Heat rose from the asphalt of his building’s parking lot in shimmering waves, and he inhaled the aroma of hot tar blended with noxious vehicle exhaust from the adjoining street. He heard the thrum of cars idling at a near by intersection. It was like a slap to the senses, and caused him to totter slightly.
He continued across the lot and down the street towards the laundromat. He saw the pack of children he had heard earlier riding bikes, and had a fleeting moment of childhood nostalgia. He wished life was that easy again, but was it ever?

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