inky darkness

I had no idea where I was going. The darkness in the corridor behind the gym disoriented me, and I was completely at a loss.  I had thought that I would go to the bathroom really quick and then come back to my son's basketball game, but I had no idea that only the basketball area was lit.  As I cautiously felt my way along the inky hallway, I felt something squish beneath my feet. Immediately my mind conjured up a rat or mouse as blind to me as I was to it.  Too late now.  I stumbled on, hoping that whatever now stained my shoe would rub off before I had to see it. Not much chance of that, seeing as I could feel the little body sticking to my shoe.  At least it hadn’t screamed.  I hate it when mice scream.

As I continued along the corridor, I put my hand out to the side, hoping to encounter a wall or—please God—a light switch.  No such luck.  I continued to grope in the dark, blind and too dumb to turn back.  But when you’re over 50, turning back when you have to go really isn’t an option.  I continued groping-- that is, until I tripped over a body and found myself in the middle of the floor, hands full of a strange liquid.  Oh please, God, not blood!

Blinding light. The sound of my son’s cry, “Mom! Where are you?” I called back, “Here, Ryan!” and just stayed put, eyes shut, waiting for the crime scene to be discovered.  The sound of my son’s gym shoes hitting the floor was both a blessing and a misery to me.  Now he would see the body that I had inadvertently fallen over.  Would he survive such an ordeal? Would I?

“Mom! What the heck are you doing in the girl’s locker room?”  I hesitantly looked around myself, and then started to laugh hysterically.  The mouse on my foot was actually a peach-the yellow meat and red skin still stained my shoe.  The “body” that I had tripped over was a mound of gym shorts, towels, and sweaters, evidently left when the girls went to the game after using black paint to make signs.  The container of black paint was still there, and my hands were wet with it.  I looked at my son, he looked at me, and even though he gave me the familiar teen grimace, I couldn’t help but smile. He waited for me while I used the restroom, then I meekly followed him out to watch the game.