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Isaias sat sideways on the very last of a line of pale blue fiberglass chairs that were connected by a thick single metal bar underneath. He was looking out of the large laundromat glass window at the sky above the old run-down buildings that lined the street.
With the coming evening, it had begun to morph from a pale blue cloudless sky to a mixture of pink, purple, white, and dark gray as the encroaching clouds rolled in above, rushing into one another. There was no doubt a storm coming.
Unfortunately for Isaias, he had to wait until after work before he could even begin his laundry, which meant he would not be home before it became dark. The storm was just icing on the cake.
He was already on edge because when he came into the laundromat, he was greeted by what he presumed to be a homeless man that smelled of a mix of piss, body order, and alcohol. He stood looking out the other matching window on the other side of the room. The man had turned and begun watching Isaias since he began to fill three of the twelve white beats up washing machines with his clothes.
When Isaias had realized he had forgotten the two rolls of quarters he had stopped and specifically got for this event, he was taking it as a sign he should probably just go buy new clothes. That was when he had noticed the neon sign across the street at a diner suddenly flash on.
He was hesitant to leave his clothes but either way, stolen by this homeless man or dirty, by tomorrow he would have a reason for a new wardrobe.
Isaias gave the homeless man a smile and a nod as he walked out across the street to a diner that had a 24/7 sign to ask for some change. The waitress happily gave him the change he needed. Isaias thanked her and quickly made his way back over to the laundromat.
It seemed that the homeless man had not moved. He had stayed posted in the same spot just in front of the line of the chairs that lined either side of the laundromat windows.
Isaias walked over to the first washer he had left his clothes in and was disappointed to see they were still piled inside, dusted lightly with white and blue soap powder, just as he had left them.
He put in the coins looking up at the homeless man. His lips curled in a, “My clothes aren’t good enough for you look?” He quickly relaxed his face when he realized that the man was again watching him.
Isaias walked over to the chairs on the other side of the room and plopped down in the third chair of six. He had passed on the first chair closest to the wall because someone had left what he hoped to be some kind of soda and not some kind of body fluid on a stack of old newspapers, and the second chair was just too close to the dripping wet biomass for Isaias' taste.
The homeless man walked over to Isaias, looking him directly in his eyes, and sat down close. The mixed smell of piss, body order, and alcohol were definitely coming from him. Isaias moved over a chair, trying not to seem rude, but his smell was overwhelming.
The homeless man began to tell him a story about how a man that owned the 24/7 diner used to be called Pa’s Place. He killed his family and served them to his customers. When the word got out, the cowardly owner killed himself as the police moved in. Only his son had survived. That was because I had run away the night before.
The homeless man stood up looking out the window to the diner. “He didn't leave completely, you see. He is still very much around.” Isaias remembered him saying before the homeless man looked down at him one last time. He then abruptly walked out of the laundromat without another word.
Isaias found himself to be stunned not knowing what to say or how to respond. The homeless man did not look his way this time. He passed outside of the window. Instead, he looked straight ahead, disappearing around the corner.
Isaias was thinking back on what landed him here in the laundromat alone—being down to his last pair of clean white boxer briefs he would have held out if he could. Isaias could not complain and did not have much choice.
He just had happened to be sitting at his small dining room table, drinking coffee and talking to his mother. A routine that just sort of happened after he left home. This was when he felt something on his bare feet, thinking nothing of it. He assumed it was just Loki, his small white teacup poodle that ran around the house. Loki was a housewarming gift from his mother.
It was not until he tried to gently push the small animal away that he found himself standing in ankle-deep gray soapy water. His mother overhearing the spew of cussing and splashing intently, began asking what is wrong?
Isaias explained there was water all over the place. He told his mother he would call her back. After running to his washing machine and turning off the water, he stayed true to his word.
His mother had already taken it upon herself to set up that his father would bring a brand-new washing machine to him. Isaias knew better than to question or even go against his mother.
Three days after talking to his mother, Isaias loaded up his bare necessities into a black plastic laundry basket and headed down to the local laundromat.
He had hoped that being the middle of the week. There would be little to no one there, and other than Mr. Creepy Urine man, he had not been disappointed.
As the light left the sky, tiny drops of water began to fall from the darkness. Isaias watched the people that were coming and going from the diner while he waited. The diner and the laundromat were the only business that still seemed open on the street.
After a while, an elderly couple came out of the diner. Isaias watched as the older man wearing a blue and red plaid button-up shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and sporting a salt and peppered beard, assisted his wife.
The rounded woman was wearing a light pink dress with berries strategically dotting every few inches and was pushing a dark blue walker with wheels. He had only noticed the pattern because of the bright lamp post they had just passed.
He found it strange that the pair had begun to walk down the sidewalk instead of a closely parked vehicle, especially since the weather had turned and the woman was using a walker. It had been his experience that older people seemed to watch the weather channel like sportspeople watched football or other sports.
A movement in the alley just ahead of them caught Isaias's attention.
“Mr. CreepyUrine guy?” He thought to himself.
The dark alley made it hard to see, but there was a clear figure of someone standing there. Indeed with all the lights on in the laundry room, whoever it was, could see that Isaias was watching them and the elderly couple. Isaias's heart began to beat fast as the elderly couple made their way to the alley.
Did they see the person? He thought
The shadow lowered his stance in a sort of attack formation. Isaias stood up and began to bang on the glass, pointing at the alley, yelling for the elderly couple to stop and turn around. The shadow rushed out word toward the old couple as they left the security of the last lights. Isaias ran screaming out of the door into the rain across the street. He had no idea what he was going to accomplish other than becoming a victim himself, but he could not just stand idly by and let anyone hurt an elderly couple.
With his arms flailing in a windmill motion Isaias came to a stop where the couple was supposed to be. To his surprise, there was no one there. There was no old man or old lady and no shadow man.
Isaias looked around, even going as far as to walk into the alley part way only to see there was no one there. He turned to leave when the elderly couple he had been looking for seemed to appear walking past the mouth of the alley as before.
When Isaias stepped out the older woman screamed out in shock. The older man turned quickly with a balled-up fist, clocking Isaias directly in the mouth. He crumpled to the ground, not sure what to do. Clearly, he had startled them, and yeah, he probably deserved the fist smooch, but he was there to help them not scare them or rob them. The older man stood like a boxer, ready for a fight.
“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” Isaias yelled out as he grasped his face. “I thought I saw someone in here, and I was worried about you!” He called out.
It took a second, but the older man lowered his stance. He turned and checked on his wife before turning around and extending his hand. Isaias accepted the older man’s hand and let him help him up.
“I apologies the old man said, but nowadays, you can't be too careful.” The older man was quickly back at his wife's side again.
“I understand. I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just...”,
“You saw someone here in the alley.” The older man said as the two had already begun to walk down the sidewalk away from Isaias.
“You’re seeing ghost son; I suggest you get home. The older man said as the couple seemed to disappear into the dark.
“Is there a problem?” a voice from behind him caught Isaias’s attention. He quickly turned around to be met by two officers. Isaias turned his head back to the old couple confused and then back to the officers.
“No sir, I thought I saw someone in the alley but...I guess I am seeing ghosts. I’m doing my laundry over there,” Isaias pointed to the laundromat.
“Decided to play in the rain did ya?” The officer standing beside the first laughed.
“I thought I saw someone who needed help, but I was wrong. I’m just going to go back now.” Isaias spoke looking around.
“To your laundry,” the officer said questioningly.
“Yes, sir,” Isaias replied. The first officer stepped forward as if he wanted to say something else but the second officer placed his hand on his shoulder, holding him back.
“You have a good, evening son,” The second officer spoke.
“Thank you, sir,” Isaias replied before rushing back to the laundromat.
He remembered seeing the two eating in the diner earlier when he went to get change. Isaias did not play with the law. He liked his freedom too much.
Isaias set back down on the first chair closest to the door this time. A man in blue jean shorts and no shirt ran past the large windows. The two officers Isaias had talked to earlier followed a couple of seconds behind. He watched as the first officer stopped and pulled his weapon aiming it at the man that had been running but now was kneeling on the pavement with his hand up.
The second officer that had grabbed his shoulder earlier came running up behind, panting and patting his partner on the back. He walked over to the man on the ground and placed him in handcuffs.
The second officer put his gun away and looked up, and began running toward the hand-cuffed man. He kicked the man as hard as he could. Isaias watched as a spray of crimson blood exploded from his mouth before his body met the pavement.
The officer continued to kick and stomp on the cuffed man. His partner pushed him away only to find he was stronger. He continued attacking the man. It was only after the second officer pulled his weapon and aimed it at his partner did he stop.
“You going to shoot me, Tom? You’re going to shoot me!” The officer yelled.
“Don’t make me, man!” The second officer said.
“The first officer lifted his foot in the air and slammed it down into the cuffed man's neck. Officer Tom fired his weapon. Isaias watched as the other officer took flight into the air and landed flat on his back.
Officer Tom rushed over to the cuffed man and checked his pulse. He lowered his head and began to shake it before walking over to his partner and checking to see if he were alive.
Officer Tom stood looking directly at the window where Isaias stood. Officer Tom lifted his gun and placed it against his temple pulling the trigger. The mist of his blood, brain, and skull was mixed and became part of the already down poor that soon followed.
Isaias screamed out moving away from the window. After the shot, he rushed behind the line of washers with tears streaming down his face. He looked over the washing machine out of the window to see if there was any movement.
“What do I do? What do I!” He cried out. Isaias screamed when he felt a hand on his shoulder forcing him to turn around.
It was officer Tom. “I tried to stop him,” he said before again placing the gun to his temple and pulling the trigger. Warm particles of blood, brain matter, and skull again flashed filling the air. This time covering Isaias, he found himself kicking and screaming unsuccessfully pushing himself away from the horrific sight.
It was the loud beeping of the washing coming to its final cycle that brought Isaias back from his mental break.
He opened his eyes to see there was no dead officer with his brains decorating the room lying on the floor in front of him. There were only the hospital white walls with different size cracks, half, exposing the cinder block underneath. Only the beat-up washing machines and dryers and those damned pale blue chairs against the windows.
Isaias stumbled to a washing machine using it as assistance to get to his feet. He slowly walked over to the window looking for any signs of the chaos he had had just witnessed. There were only puddle-filled holes in a darken lamp-lit street.
The 24/7 sign that lit up the window at the diner across the street flickered off and on, then stayed on again.
Isaias thoughts went back to what Mr. Creepy Urine had said about Pa still being around. He looked back to the city lamp light just before the alley. He could see Mr. Creepy watching him.
Isaias walked out of the laundromat watching as Mr. Creepy walked under the light toward the diner. A tall thick black shadowy figure was following behind him. Isaias closed his eyes for a moment and then open them again to see the two disappeared inside the building’s doorway. He noted to himself, that there were no lights inside when Mr. Creepy open the door.
The bright pink sign shut off. The 24/7 restaurant had changed. It was just as worn down and dilapidated as the other aged buildings crumbling around it.
This was when Isaias notice that one of the big windows was broken out and that the 24/7 sign that had been illuminated the night, now hung from the building like a riped-off toenail that clung to the skin.
The hard rain had faded back to a soft sprinkle gently hitting the black pavement of the street.
Isaias turned towards his home and began quickly walking away. “I knew I should have just got a new wardrobe.” He told himself.
About the Creator
Malena Lopez
Malena Lopez is fascinated with art, writing, reading horror, paranormal, and things that go bump in the night. Mrs. Lopez is an entrepreneur voice-over artist, and freelance writer on sites such as HitRecord, ACX, and now Vocal.
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