Parkour Josh

From his position behind the door, Josh waited in absolute dread for the moment one of the girl pulled the door and he was discovered. There was no possible place to hide. He could hear the sounds of one of the girls shuffling about on the floor, her foot striking the door and making a noise that made Josh jump. It felt like his heart was going to tear itself free of his chest. It felt like the pair of giant girls were searching for an eternity, the suspense maddening him and keeping the adrenalin in him surging.

“Hello,” Faith said loud enough for him to hear, a triumphant tone in her voice. When he heard her say that, his heart sank. He knew she had discovered where the others were hiding. He shook his head slowly from side to side, mouth frowning. If he had stayed under the garbage can, he would have been caught too, but by sheer luck, that’s all it was, he was here and they were there.

“Where’s my little Josh?” she asked. He held his breath, eyes wide.

Josh prayed Julian wasn’t boasting when he said no one ever took a pinch because of him. Would he sell me out to save his own ass? He didn’t know. Did it matter? Really, who was he fooling, standing where he was, it was inevitable they would find him shortly as well, all they needed to do was close the door and he was had.

But they didn’t. He watched Cadence through the crack in the door as she left with Carver and then returned. He listened to the dialogue between Faith and Julian. Heard her pee into the toilet. Then the girls left. From the way Faith was talking, it sounded like she had left him in the toilet. He hadn’t heard a flush, so he presumed maybe Josh was still in there.

Peering out from around the door, he looked first toward the bedroom. Neither girl was anywhere to be seen, but it sounded like they might be outside her room in the hall. He couldn’t be sure. Making certain the strand of dental floss was secured around his shoulder, he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly to calm his nerves.

“Okay,” he said, stealthily moving out along the baseboard and around the shelving unit. Pausing a moment to listen to hear if they might be coming. Nothing. Next he navigated passed the garbage can and rushed under the back of the toilet. Peeking out from around the edge, he waited and listened again.

“I don’t know,” Faith said, voice close, back in the room.

Steadying himself, he spied the toilet paper hanging down, a few sheets lying on the floor. Looking at the paper on the floor, his eyes drifted upward to the roll inset in the shiny metallic holder. Moving closer, he took an edge of toilet paper and pulled down on it like a contestant on the Price is Right spinning the big wheel. Surprisingly, the paper moved easily, spilling down on itself and piling up under the roll. But it was loud in his ears, like thunder. Panicked he ran back behind the rear of the toilet. When the paper had stopped cascading, he waited, listening intently. Nothing. Creeping back out, he returned to the paper, pulling it more gently until all the paper played out and all that was left holding the last sheet of paper to the cardboard tube at the center of the roll was the glue they used when it was manufactured. Tugging on the edge of the paper, he jumped onto it and tested it to see if it could bear his weight. It did.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered, pulling himself upward using his hands and legs. Everything was going surprisingly well until he was three quarters of the way up to the toilet paper holder. The paper shifted, tearing partially away from the roll. Josh’s heart started pounding. Glancing momentarily down at the pile of toilet paper pooled at the bottom, he wonder if it was sufficient to protect him if he fell. The paper came away some more. Spurred on by desperation, Josh climbed up the edge of the paper as quickly as he could, reaching out and grabbing the lip of the cardboard insert from the middle of the roll as the paper came away and dropped silently to the ground.

Hanging from the cardboard tube by a single hand, Josh twisted and brought his other hand up, grabbing the edge of the tube. Chuckling nervously, he dangled there. How the hell was he supposed to get up? He couldn’t climb up the side of the roll, there was nothing to hang onto. He couldn’t climb up the edge of the roll because it would just keep turning. “Fuck,” he muttered, looking at the metal arm of the toilet paper holder. Maybe. Sweat was stinging his eyes and adrenalin was making his heart pound in his chest.

“One, two, and,” he lunged, reaching across for the small where plastic spring loaded thing holding the cardboard tube was, catching it with his left hand but missing with his right, twisting him as he swayed. Grabbing with his right, he brought his left leg up over the plastic and pulled himself upright. The tension in the spring was strong enough the plastic remained firm and didn’t move. Shifting his weight, he moved and straddled the chrome arm of the toilet paper holder. From there he could easily see into the toilet bowl, but there was no sign of Julian in the yellowy water.

Looping one end of the dental floss around the arm of the toilet paper holder, he knotted it and then cast out the remainder of the floss toward the toilet. The waxy line hit the side of the toilet and bounced away. Pulling it back up, he coiled it and tried again, this time it hit the top of the seat and stayed there. “Crap,” he muttered, bringing it back and this time heaving the line. It cleared the seat and dropped down into the bowl. Was it long enough? What about Julian? Was he conscious? So many questions. Then the line went taut.