SURVIVING... Same ole, same ole (Part 129e)
For a second she
almost looked like a ghost. The wrap around robe had a sash to keep it
closed and was also white. To finish off the “look” she had something
wrapped around her hair. I know I had to be staring at her with a
puzzled look on my face. She spoke rapidly and as she did I could hear a
lisp which made her even a bit more difficult to understand. As I approached
her I told her to calm down and to speak slowly. I remember her
frowning, almost as if to say “Don’t speak to me that way!” Up close I
could see the white “glop” was some sort of facial creme. When I was
very young I'd sometimes seen my mother with stuff slathered all over
her face but she also had on some kind of mask to put over it.
I
was able to get the fact that she’d tried to start her washing machine
and all she could get was a fairly loud “buzz” from it. I had no idea
what the problem was but she was almost pleading to have me come over to
take a look. I told her I was alone with a young child inside the house
but I’d try to get over in 15 or so minutes. With that she turned and
headed back through the hedge. I picked up the sign and took it down to
the basement while thinking that this was not going to turn out
all that well.
After getting Kaye dressed I headed through the
hedge with her to do my neighborly duty. At the kitchen door I could see
her sitting on a stool at the island in the middle of the kitchen. Still in her robe, she was smoking a cigarette and had a cup of
coffee in her hand. All I could see was her back and the thing she had
around her hair looked like a turban. When I knocked she spun around on
the stool and waved me on in. With Kaye clinging to my leg as if she
were welded to it, I struggled to get inside. She made a cursory effort
to acknowledge Kaye and then pointed to the washing machine. It was a
front loader, under the counter. Other than the color (colors were BIG
in the 60’s) it was the same make as the one in my house when we bought
it. I saw a mass of gray cloth piled on the counter above it as I
approached. Pulling the dial on the front of it to start it I
immediately heard the sound she’d described... a loud “Bzzzzzzzz”. I
immediately turned back to her to ask if she’d turned the water on. The
only way to describe the look I got back was a blank stare. I, again,
asked if she’d turned on the water. Slowly, she asked where the faucets
were. Turning back to the pile on the counter I pushed it away. On the
backsplash were two chrome handles and I pointed to them. “Oh... ” was
the reaction followed by her telling me that this was the first time
she’d tried to use the machine.
I don’t know why the memory popped into my
mind at just that time but I remembered back to when I was doing
maintenance work at the mobile home park right after I’d quit training
horses. I’d become friends with the repair man for the coin operated
washing machines at the park and he once told me to make sure to run a
whole cycle of water through a new machine before doing any clothes.
With that thought I mentioned it to her and suggested that it be done.
With her cigarette hanging from her mouth she shrugged and said “OK”. I
stood there waiting for her to come over and unload the machine but she
pointed to it and said to “go ahead” as if I was employed by her. I was
shocked by her cavalier attitude but, for some unknown reason, I bent
over and opened the glass door. What I saw really shocked me... the drum
was packed with clothes and I mean packed. I remember laughing and
being challenged by her for doing so. Trying to be nice I flatly stated
that she had too much in the machine. Again, a blank stare. What made
the stares disconcerting was that they were coming from behind this
white paste like stuff she had on her face. (When I told some of my
friends about it I described her eyes as being like two piss holes in
the snow.) I started pulling things out starting with what turned out to
be a sheet followed by a dark jacket that appeared to be woolen and a
pair of bright red pants. I looked up at her and she was just sitting
there puffing away. Another handful produced a variety of things
including a white table cloth and some maroon napkins. I remember
shaking my head. While still pulling items out I heard the phone ring.
Sitting
on the stool she’d had her robe draped all around it to the point I
could only see the legs of it under the rung where she’d been resting
her feet. When she stood up and started for the phone the robe, still
draped over the stool, caught on it and pulled it open exposing her
nightie. Before she got more than a few steps the stool fell over and
hit her. When she turned to get it off her, the robe, now caught under
the stool, was pulled off one of her shoulders. I really didn’t get to
see much. Bent over with only her nighty covering one hip I could see
the outline of panties and that was for only a brief second. I
know you won’t believe it but up to that time I really hadn’t been
thinking of panties... but, as she went into the next room to get the
phone I got to thinking/hoping that there would be some in the rest of
the clothes still in the machine.
With my ears listening for the
end of her conversation I went about pulling the remainder of the items out
and onto the floor. The last handful proved to be a “winner”. As I
looked down on it I got a pleasant surprise. I recognized the waist
elastic of a pair of Carters Spanky Pants. The label, located in the
middle of the back confirmed it of. To make it complete they had band legs and were the heavy
ribbed cotton exactly like Elle's including the size. Elle wore them for a specific reason and I just didn’t
think many grown women would wear them by choice.
It was impossible for me
to have come up with an age for the woman what with the stuff on her
face and her hair covered. The only clue I had was her voice and, with
her lisp, that wasn’t much help. I didn’t dwell on that pair of panties
for long other than to look at the crotch. There was just a normal
discharge so I rooted through the pile looking for some more. The next ones I found
were also the same but there was a fairly large “skid mark” in them. I’d
started separating the clothes into light colors and dark colors like
I’d seen Elle do. I reached into the middle of the big pile and found
what felt somewhat like a ball and it was damp. I pulled it out and saw
the familiar waist band elastic again. Shaking the panties out I
immediately got the idea why they were damp. There was a fairly clear
indication that she’d pooped in them and had just given them a cursory
rinse. That was not a pleasant surprise. I had two fairly decent piles
when she returned and explained that each amounted to a normal load. I
told her about the need for separating colors and also that wool shouldn't be washed in a
washing machine. I remember her shaking her head from side to side and
then making a comment about it sounding reasonable. With her watching I then I turned on the
faucets and started the machine on. The “Bzzzzzzz” was
gone.
Kaye had been fascinated whenever Elle had used the front loader
in our house so she went up to the window and watched the water
splashing about. I really wanted to go home but my conscience wouldn’t
let me. Afraid, with her naivety, that if there was a leak she’d not
know what to do. So I figured it was as good a time as any to find out
more about her...
To be continued...
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