The Basement

“I don’t think we should be down here,” Whitney said, tucked behind her friend as they scurried toward the school’s basement.

“We’ll be fine,” Shirley replied, shoulders back and chin up. If she didn’t have to pee so badly, then she would have strutted down that hallway.

At the top of the staircase, they read a sign “ DO NOT ENTER.” A cold air came up and slithered around their legs. The girls shivered. Shirley yanked the lock and rattled the chains. Whitney shushed her while looking over her shoulders, sure to check both directions. Shirley copied Whitney but for a different reason, to find permission. With no one telling her no, she ducked under the chains and stood on the first step.

“What are you doing?” Her friend gasped, while wringing her legs.

“I’m finding a bathroom. Are you coming with me?”

Whitney danced around, looked up and down the hallway again, grinded her teeth, and said, “I can’t.” She ran away to join her peers. “I’ll see you in class!” She hollered and waved at her friend behind the chain. Facing her quest alone, Shirley turned around and hustled down the steps. Her eyes flicked from wall to wall, scanning the narrow passageway. She jiggled the knob of every door she passed in vain.

Then, she stopped running, focusing on a new noise. A whirling, a humming. She tiptoed toward the sound. When she got close enough, she heard a rhythmic thump. It grew with each step. She turned a corner and marveled at an open door at the end of the hallway, with light peering through the bottom. Inching closer, the thumping grew louder. For each of Shirley’s steps, she’d hear two thumps. She stood at the door and faced the knob. She looked back down the hallway behind her. Then, she turned back, grabbed the knob, and pulled back the door.

Peeking into the room from the door frame, Shirley saw a line of treadmills occupied by kids in her matching school uniform. She moved in and recognized the ponytails of the girl on the left. She walked up to the side of her treadmill. “Patty?”

The girl in question almost screamed but made sure to stifle it. Her eyes grew big as she started looking around, back and forth, over both shoulders. “What are you doing here? Are you with anyone?”

“No. I came down to the basement to find a restroom. What are you doing here? You haven’t been in class for --”

“Patty,” another girl two treadmills down started through her teeth. “Keep running.”

Patty pumped her arms and quickened her stride. Thump, thump, thump, thump.

“What are you doing?” Shirley asked.

“You can’t be here.” Patty kept her eyes forward except for catching quick glances behind her.

“That didn’t answer my question. Also, where is a restroom?”

“Over there. Use it and leave.” Patty kept pumping.

Shirley walked along the back of the treadmills. The girls ran in unison. As she passed each one, they snuck a quick look at her and snapped back forward. Once past the treadmills, she saw the restroom: two buckets, a water jug, and a bar of soap.

“Patty, is there an actual restroom?”

The girls shushed her in unison, just like their running.

“Sorry,” the outsider whispered. She sighed and approached the bucket. She concluded that the one full of pee and poop was the toilet. She wasn’t about to ruin whatever thing they had going on here. While releasing the urine she’d held in for twenty minutes now, she let her eyes wander. There were no windows, and the ceilings were low -- this coming from a grade-school girl. In front of the treadmills was this fenced-in box. Not like a birthday present but  ten refrigerators smashed together. Wires fed from the treadmills to the box and then up through the ceiling.

“Hey, you,” the closest runner addressed Shirley, without looking at her. She stared straight ahead. “You gotta go.”

Shirley turned to the wall for toilet paper, looked around her, and found none. She grimaced and pulled her pants up. “What are you all doing down here anyway?” She asked while walking to the door. The runners all shushed her, with only Patty looking back at her. She gestured her hands as if shoo-ing her from the room. Shirley nodded and said, “Thanks.” She walked out the door. As she strolled, she flipped through all the questions she had in her mind. Why was Patty there? Why was there no toilet paper? Why were they running? She’d never had a gym class in the basement.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Shirley froze. She heard a different kind of movement, something other than the thumping she grew used to. This was sharp and slow. It sounded like a lady in heels. Shirley looked around for any door or corner. She tried each knob she found. Her luck did not change. She ran around and tried retracing her steps because she saw that one superhero did it in that one movie. No matter how hard she wanted superpowers, she couldn’t remember where she had gone before. Every wall looked the same and familiar. Her breathing was almost as loud as her feet. Skidding and sliding and flailing, she was a girl who had lost her mom.

Then, she found a corner, sprinted, swung her arms as high as she could, and bolted to the safe place. Once she made the turn, she ran into a wall unlike any of the others. It was soft and warm. She looked down to see two black stilettos. She looked up and saw Ms. Landry.

“Ms. Landry, I’m so sorry. I got lost. I don’t know where I am. I just came down to use the restroom. I just need to get back to class. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“Shirley,” the woman cut her off. No part of her moved but her jaw and tongue. “As a student of my school, I know you know how to read a sign, understand messages, and follow directions. Given that you are standing here in front of me now, I know you have broken many cherished rules of our school. Come with me.” Ms. Landry pinched Shirley by her ear and dragged her down the hallway.

Shirley begged, “Please, ma’am. I’m so sorry. I just needed to use the restroom and the other one was busy.” She stumbled and tripped over herself to keep up with her principal who was walking much faster than before. “Ms. Landry, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” The thumping returned. “Ms. Landry, please let me go back to class.” The thumping grew louder. “Ms. Landry, please!” They turned the corner, and Shirley saw the same light underneath the same door. “Ms. Landry, my mom --”

The woman stopped, turned toward Shirley, and yanked her ear. “You should’ve thought of your mother before you entered my basement.” She opened the door, threw Shirley into the room, slammed it shut, and locked it. She pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer, squirted a bead into her palm, rubbed it in, smoothed out her skirt, and walked away.