Wreak Havoc
The metal frame of the washer creaked as Kevin sank his crowbar into a gap in its rusty, deteriorating frame. He leaned his weight into the bar, straining his muscles until the creak became a groan as the machine split a few inches. Repositioning his feet, he heaved more weight against the bar. A crack echoed through the empty building as l the metal disintegrated, and Kevin and the detached frame joined the rubble littering the ground.
He shook debris from his hair and pulled his damp t-shirt away from his chest. “The catch-all should be in an easy-to-open drawer in the front!” he screamed to the ghosts of the washer engineers.
He rummaged through the washer's entrails until he felt the small box that held prisoner the detritus people left in their pockets. “Is she even worth all this?”
As if his thoughts were a summons, he heard the whirr of a distant car engine approach. Kevin cursed. Of course, she found him.
He looked at the buttons, paperclips and a dollar twenty in change in his hand. Kevin shoved the coins into his pocket. “She better be worth it, I'm not even making minimum wage.”
A slamming car door echoed assaulted the silence. He ignored it and focused his efforts once more on his task until he felt the room vibrate as she came through the door and screamed "What are you doing?"
She was in silhouette, but he didn't need to see her to know her wavy brown hair, hazel eyes with specks of gray, and the swell and curve of her figure. They hadn't seen each other for ten years, but he remembered it all. Of course, yesterday's refresher course helped.
“Finding the ring, Jade.” He dissected another frame.
“You’re destroying my family’s laundromat!” she said.
He drown out her words with the satisfying screech of bending metal and then looked at the ceiling sagging toward the toppled vending machines. His eyes roamed around the laundromat, broken glass scattered across the floor, and walls covered in graffiti. He met her eyes and drug out the words, "Oh no!”
Jade's eyes widened as she glanced around the room as if she just noticed it was falling apart. She shook her head and asked, “Why are you looking for the ring?"
“You told me losing the ring in the washer was a sign. And that's why you refused to marry me. I’m not letting you use that as an excuse this time." He twisted the crowbar angrily. "Watch out!”
The frame fell in Jade's direction and Kevin pulled her out of the way, holding her tight against him. They froze before she pushed him away and brushed debris off her top.
She interrupted the awkward silence. “I see your dancing hasn't improved. That was the beginning of a waltz, right?”
Kevin stretched his back and set down the crowbar. “So, you remember teaching me to waltz here?” His mind drifted back to a happier time, alone in the laundromat, his arms around her, the radio crackling classical music as a zipper in the dryer thumped an erratic three-count step. He stepped on her toes every third count.
“Trying to. Did you ever learn to dance?”
Kevin shrugged. “Lisa didn’t dance.” He picked up the crowbar and inserted it into another washer.
Despite the sounds of protesting metal, he heard her ask, “You were happy, weren’t you?”
Slamming the crowbar into the side of the machine, he turned on her. “Do you mean was she just a consolation prize?" He bent down to find the box and control the anger he felt. "Don't worry. I barely remembered your name after you left." It wasn’t true, but Lisa had pushed Jade to the back of his mind from the moment she gave birth to their daughter until he held her hand as she took her last breath. Then Jade stepped into the bar last night and he was instantly transported back to his teenage lovesick self. The last item in the catch-all was round and silver. He pulled out the pop top and held it out to her. “Close. It’s ring shaped.”
“How many washers have you murdered?”
“Ten.”
“Give me the crowbar,” she said, holding out her hand.
He hesitated before he handed it over and then followed her into the back office, where she leveraged the crowbar against a floorboard. It popped up revealing a dark hole.
“It’s a storm cellar I converted into my teenage hideaway,” she said as she removed another floorboard. “Do you have that flashlight you always carry?”
He nodded and pulled it out. A ladder led down into a cobweb laced small room. He tested the ladder and climbed down.
A shrine to their early romance was illuminated by his flashlight. Pictures, letters and mementos were scattered about. He picked up a pinwheel that he had given her on the 4th of July when they were twelve. “You hid this from your dad, right under his nose?”
“We did a good job of keeping us a secret.”
He saw a small red box. He didn't need to open it to know what was inside. "Why did you tell me you lost it?”
She dangled her legs over the opening, and her hair formed a halo around her head as she gazed down at him. “Because I was seventeen and my best friend told me she was dying and in love with you. I couldn’t marry you. I couldn’t do that to her.”
“You didn’t tell her about us?” He climbed back up and sat beside her.
Jade shook her head.
“I didn’t get a say?”
“It was your choice to marry her. All I did was leave town.” She swung her legs back and forth. “I planned to come back after ... But she beat it the first time, and you guys had Anna, so I tried to move on.”
Kevin thought about his little girl and the life he shared with Lisa. He reached out and wrapped his hand around Jade’s. “I thought you were selfish all these years, but it was the opposite.” He knew the ring inside the box held a miniscule cubic zirconium stone. “It feels wrong to re-use this ring, thankfully, I have a stand-in.” He reached into his pocket and slipped the pop top over her finger. “Jade, will you finally marry me?”