Laundry

Sachin scuffs his beaten up converse trainers along the pavement, empty laundry bag in hand. The overhead street lamps light his concrete catwalk as he steps in time to the music humming through his headphones. He feels invisible every time he escapes the illumination of the street lights and mouths along to the lyrics of the songs lingering in his ear. To be consumed by the orange hue is to be visible. The summer evening is thick and sticky. Sachin’s jean shorts and tank top are an attempt to provide relief from the oppressive humidity. 

    The laundromat door is propped open with the attempt to push some heat out onto the street. The tumble dryers are a welcome warmth in the winter time but in the summer they turn the laundromat into a sweat box. The floor is strewn with used dryer sheets and forgotten socks. The money tree in the window looks out onto the passing headlights of the cars flying by. A single tumble dryer whirs with the occasional twang of a zipper or button colliding with the metal interior of the machine. Sachin opens the door to a dryer where his hot clothes lay still. 

    “It only just finished, love.” a gravelled voice calls out from behind Sachin. Lynn, wearing flip flops, leggings and an oversized hoodie, slumps in one of the chairs next to the large folding table. The aggressive overhead fluorescent lighting gives shine to her burgundy box-dye hair and the brown roots escaping her scalp. Her chubby fingers are interlaced and they rest on her tummy. Sachin doesn’t hear her. His music is too loud. Lynn scratches her head, clears her throat and gives it a second shot. “It only just finished, love!” Sachin removes an earbud from his left ear and glances behind him. “Your drying. It only just finished. I’ve been keeping an eye on it for you.” Lynn explains proudly. 

   “Oh. Thank you.” Sachin replies, quickly lodging the earbud back to where it belongs. He wheels a laundry bin over to the dryer and starts to empty the contents of the drum into the basket below. 

    “It’s quiet in here.” Lynn states, taking a sip from her large-sized McDonald's cup.

     “What was that?” asks Sachin, removing his earbud again.  

     “Oh, I just said that it’s quiet in here is all.” Lynn repeats. Sachin acknowledges her, trying his best to be polite yet trying not to initiate a conversation. Sachin stuffs his headphones into his pocket and finishes emptying the dryer. “I should come and do my laundry this late all the time.” Lynn says with a chuckle, followed by an uncontrollable, syrupy cough. Lynn smokes a packet of Belmonts a day.

    “Yeah.” replies Sachin, now wheeling his basket over to the opposite end of the folding table. Lynn laughs and takes another sip of her diet coke. There’s a long silence. Sachin, feeling a sense of guilt and obligation, thinks of something to say. “There are lots of kids here during the day.”  

    “Yeah, just running around screaming! Getting under your feet. It’s just a nightmare! I tell ya, their mothers should keep them under control. I never let my kids get away with that sorta thing.” Lynn is quick to respond. The two of them laugh. Sachin begins to fold his t-shirts and place them carefully into his linen laundry bag.

     “I would have gotten a smack if I did that as a kid.” Sachin grins. Lynn laughs and repositions herself in her chair as her bum has fallen asleep. She coughs. 

    “Mind you, they’re not all bad. There are some good ones out there.” she professes.

    “I heard a kid thank the bus driver today when he got off.” Sachin says with a smile, holding a pair of underpants in his hand. Sachin continues to fold his boxer shorts in a very specific way, as if they were fresh out of the packaging. 

    “So what music were you listening to?” inquires Lynn. Sachin fumbles for an answer. “Is it embarrassing” Lynn probes, chuckling to herself.

    “Uh, kinda. I guess so. Promise not to laugh if I tell you?” Sachin pleads. Lynn nods her head as she sips from her cup. “I was listening to the Wicked soundtrack.” Sachin says through a grimace. Lynn looks at him blankly. “You know, the Broadway show? About witches? She’s green?” There’s a long pause as Lynn attempts to retrieve her musical theatre knowledge from the recesses of her brain.

    “Never seen it.” Lynn confesses. “Anyway, that’s not embarrassing. If you like it then there’s no need to be embarrassed I say.” Lynn shifts her chair to angle towards Sachin. “I like Reggae.” says Lynn with a grin appearing in the corner of her mouth. “Oh, I love it. Love it, love it, love it. I listen to it all the time. I just like the message. You know when Bob Marley says ‘Every little ting is gonna be alrigh’. And that’s it, everything is gonna be alrigh’. No worries.”  Sachin smiles as he folds a shirt over his forearm. Lynn watches her laundry go round and round in the dryer. 

    “Today’s a weird one.” Lynn says as she gestures towards the dryer. “Those are my husband’s clothes. His work clothes. It’s the last time I’ll be doing his laundry for him. We decided to end things today after 20 years.” Lynn stands and shuffles over to the dryer. She stares longingly at the work shirts and socks flying around inside the metal drum. “I’m doing this last load for him, but that’s it. After today, he’s on his own.” Lynn says with a quiet determination in her voice.

    Sachin feels awkward and doesn’t really know what to say. “Well, that’s very nice of you.” is the best he could come up with. Sachin begins to match his socks together and balls them into one neat package. Lynn perches against the other end of the table and folds her arms, resting them on the curvature of her stomach. A tear runs down her face which she quickly wipes away. She exhales deeply through pursed lips. More tears begin to fall down Lynn’s rosy cheeks. She bunches the cuffs of her oversized hoodie in her hands and uses the fabric to absorb her tears. 

    “Ugh! I’m just being silly. I’m sorry!” she sobs.

    “I don’t think you’re being silly. I think you’re allowed to feel however you want to feel right now.” Sachin puts down the pair of shorts he was folding.

    “Thank you. I appreciate that.” Lynn chokes through her tears. Sachin moves around to Lynn’s side of the table and leans against the tabletop next to her. “We’ve been together since high school. Can you believe it?” Lynn asks. “He’s been the only one for all these years, we got married, had our kids and now...nothing. I’m alone again.” 

    Sachin pauses for a moment, thinking of something meaningful and supportive to say, “Well, you’re not alone. I’m sure you have friends and your kids will always need their Mum. I’m sure they’re very lucky to have a Mum like you.” Sachin smiles supportively. Lynn looks at the ground, wiping the tears collecting on her chin. 

    “You’re sweet.” Lynn says as she playfully bumps her shoulder into Sachin’s. The two of them sit silently underscored by the sound of Lynn’s sniffs and the hum of the dryer. 

    “Cause every little thing is gonna be alright.” Sachin sings. Lynn laughs. 

    “Can I give you a hug?” Lynn asks with outstretched arms. Sachin stands up and wraps his arms around Lynn’s body. She hugs him back tightly and then releases him.

    “I guess we were meant to run into each other tonight.” says Sachin with a chuckle.

    “I guess so.” she replies. “I’m Lynn by the way.” 

    “I’m Sachin.” They both stare ahead at the dryer as the drum comes to a stop. The clothes fall lifelessly into a heap behind the glass door. The machine buzzes.