The Blotch

The cooing outside her window woke Eleanor at seven in the morning. She was having a well-deserved lie-in after scrubbing the bathroom tiles with a toothbrush until 1 AM. Her sister, Clarissa, was visiting in a few hours, and she wanted everything spotless. She would never hear the end of it if Clarissa spotted even a crumb on the floor.

The pigeons were having a chat about whatever pigeons chat about. Eleanor stormed out of bed and made her way to the living room, throwing open the curtains. “Bugger off, you dirty feathered rats!” she screamed as she banged on the window. The two pigeons ignored her as they basked in the morning sun fifteen stories above the city.

She grabbed her rubber cleaning gloves from the kitchen. Back in the lounge, she unlocked the window. It needed repairing months ago, but she managed to slide her hand underneath it. “Go on, shoo,” she said as they flew away. As she closed it, one came back toward the ledge. She shooed it away again, and tit veered, leaving a huge splat of a poo on the upper window. 

“Oh, you bloody rapscallion!” she said as she stepped back and evaluated the carnage. She couldn't reach the blotch. She opened the other lounge window two steps away, which did open all the way, and peered out on the city. Dizziness hit her. Why did she buy an apartment so far up?

Closing the window, she went to the bathroom and washed her hands, twice. She couldn’t let Clarissa spot the filth. Her sister’s voice still haunted her over the red wine incident. She bought a new rug to calm her down.

She must have a chat with the building manager again about her upstairs neighbour feeding those pigeons. Eleanor complained about him several times, but he did nothing about the pigeons or her broken window. Enough was enough. 

After getting dressed, she marched upstairs, pounding on the pigeon man’s door. She couldn’t remember his name. Eleanor knocked again and the apartment door behind her opened.

“David’s gone away,” said the woman at the door.

“When will he be back?” Eleanor asked in a huff as she turned to the woman. She had seen the woman in the lobby before, but she never asked her name and didn’t care to. She didn't want random neighbours knocking on her door to borrow cups of sugar.

“He’s gone to Springfield to visit his son. He won’t be back for another week. I’m Betty, by the way.”

“Did he leave you a key? His pigeons have been vandalising my windows.”

“Oh no, he didn’t. He usually puts out plenty of food for them, though.”

“Hmm, well, that’s unfortunate. Time to put an end to that,” said Eleanor as she turned and walked back to the stairwell.

Back in her apartment, she scowled at the white blotch. She picked up the phone and rang the building manager.

“Hi Eleanor, what’s the problem now?” he said.

“Isn’t it time for the window washers to come?”

“They just washed them three months ago and they’re not due for another three months.”

“Thanks to our resident pigeon wrangler above me, which you have done nothing about, one of those wretched things has defaced my window.”

“Can’t you lean out and wipe it off?”

“I can’t open the window to clean it because you haven’t repaired it like I told you to months ago.”

“It’s supposed to rain in a couple of days. Maybe that’ll take care of it.”

“My sister is coming in an hour, and I need this place to be spotless. Please come now and clean this mess.”

“I’m not on your side of town today, so I won’t have time to help until early next week.”

“I demand you come here now and take care of this. I’ve told you for months something like this would happen.” She didn’t pay her corporate fees to live in filth like this.

“Sorry, Eleanor, but it’s not happening until next week. We have other properties and I have something else to take care of now,” he said as he hung up.

He dismissed her, which didn’t help her mood. “The resident’s association will be hearing about this,” she mumbled as she put her gloves back on and wiped the kitchen counter again.

Eleanor stared at the blotch as she vacuumed, trying to work out her next option. She couldn’t keep the curtains closed. Her son, Julian, lived three hours away, so he couldn’t help her.

Eleanor searched through the closets to find something to use, but found nothing. Looking through the kitchen drawers, she found a set of long tongs. Perfect. She folded a paper towel and dowsed it with some cleaning spray and put it in the tongs. She opened the window, putting all her strength into it. It opened enough to slide her head through.

Her phone rang. Julian’s name popped up on the screen, so she answered.

“Hello love, how are you doing today?”

“Hello mother. I’m in between meetings, so I thought I would give you a ring.”

“I’m glad you did. My morning has been dreadful. Clarissa will be here soon, and a pigeon has left its mark high on the lounge window.”

“Don’t you try to clean it. The last thing I want you to do is hang out of a window. You’ll fall to your death.”

“I need that blotch gone before she gets here. You know how she is.”

“Don’t worry about her. Have her try to clean it. I wouldn’t mind her falling to an untimely death.”

“Let’s not think like that,” she said, smirking. 

“Promise me you won’t do anything silly. Close the curtains and make an excuse.”

“I promise. I’ll come up with something and make my way through it.”

“Okay. You take care of yourself. I have to go. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Love you, dear,” she said as she hung up.

She stepped back and evaluated the situation again. She held the tongs as she stared at the window. Of all days, it had to be this one.

The window loosened a little, so it might raise a bit more. Pushing with all her might, she managed to open the window half-way. She avoided looking down as she leaned out. Lifting the tongs with one hand, she held onto the window frame with her other. The damp paper towel reached the bottom of the blotch, and she started scrubbing. It now appeared more like a misty watercolour painting than a clean window.

Frustrated, she moved her body up a little further and sat on the ledge. Her sweaty hand lifted the tongs up and started cleaning again. Why did she forget to put on her cleaning gloves? Too late now. She started scrubbing. The pigeons flew back and hovered around her, trying to find a spot to land. She panicked as she used the tongs to shoo them away. One got past her and flew through the window, landing in the living room.

“Get out of my house,” she yelled as it pecked at her rug. 

It jumped at the sound of three sharp raps on the door. Trust Clarissa to be early. “One moment, please,” she said, trying to sound calm.

She tried manoeuvring back into the lounge, but slipped and fell backwards, catching herself with her one free hand. Her grip loosened on the tongs, releasing the paper towel. A gust of wind caught it and lifted it into the air, as it made a loop and landed in the middle of her face.

"You've got to be kidding me." She flung the paper towel off and dropped the tongs on the ledge.

Another knock. “Coming.” Vertigo hit her and she slipped backward and she grabbed the window.

The door opened, and Clarissa gasped as she spotted Eleanor sitting on the ledge. “What on earth are you doing out there?” she said. Spotting the pigeon on the rug, she shooed it away, and it landed on Eleanor’s legs. 

Eleanor panicked as the second pigeon returned, landing next to her. She lost her grip altogether, slipping backwards. Clarissa screamed and ran to the window, grabbing Eleanor’s foot. The pigeon on Eleanor’s legs flew back into the apartment. 

"Pull me up!"

Clarissa pulled with all her might as Eleanor slid back onto the ledge. Her legs dangled inside as she caught her breath.

“You gave me such a fright!”

“Help me back in.”

The pigeon inside landed on the top edge of the window. “Go away,” screamed Clarissa as she slammed her hand on the wall to scare it. The vibration made the window slam down on Eleanor’s legs.

Eleanor yelped as Clarissa tried lifting the window. “Pull harder,” Eleanor said as she tried from the outside. 

Clarissa pulled with all her might, but it wouldn’t budge. “It’s no use. Shall I call the building manager?”

“He’s useless. Oh, I don’t know who to call,” she said as tears fell down her face. 

Clarissa grabbed her phone from her purse. “I’ll ring the fire department.” 

The pigeon cooed, and Clarissa turned toward the rug where it landed. “Oh, dear,” said Clarissa, giving Eleanor a disapproving glance.

“What? What now?” She gasped as Clarissa moved, giving her a clear view of the rug. “Oh, bugger,” she said. There was now another large blotch to deal with.