Rash
T. W. Ambrose 
 
 

I woke suddenly

to a scream.  It took me a moment to get my bearings; I wiped the drool from my cheek as another scream rattled through the house.  “Andrew, are you OK?”  It sounded as if he were upstairs.  I rolled off the couch and headed down the hall.  “Daddy’s coming.”

“Daddy!” my son screamed back.  He sounded terrified.  But to a five year old everything was an emergency.  Besides, he sounded like he was in the bathroom, not a fun place to have an emergency.  Ugh, I wish my wife was here.  She was so much better at dealing with the whole potty issue.  “Potty.” I’m even thinking the lingo now.  When did my life go away?  When did I become the dad who wears sweats and spends his Saturday afternoons sleeping and watching Sponge Bob?

I got to the top of the stairs. “Almost there buddy,” I shouted.  Andrew was sobbing now.  I opened the bathroom door, and the smell of crap hit me like a wall.  “Ohhh, buddy, what did you do?”  There was a pile just a few feet away from the bowl and the floor seemed wet with urine. 

“Daddy!” Andrew wasn’t in much better shape, and he was still crying. 

“Hey buddy, we all have accidents,” I lie.  I’m pretty sure I never had an issue like this as a kid.  I hate cleaning up poop.  The experts say when you love the person, it’s easier.  I love my son; it’s not easier.  I hate the experts.  “Let’s get cleaned up, OK?” I took Andrew’s hand and helped him in the shower, careful to turn both the hot and cold on equally.  I don’t want that accident again.  I turned to clean up the floor.  “Hey bud, you hold tight, Daddy needs to run downstairs and grab the paper towels and bleach.”

“But Daddy, it hurts.” He seemed calmer now but was still crying quite a bit.  “I don’t want to be alone, Daddy.” 

“What hurts buddy?” I stuck my hand in the water; it seemed a little cool but far from painful.  “Why can’t you be alone?” I looked down at him, and for the first time noticed the thick rash around his leg.  It really did look painful.  “What did you do here, crazy?” I examined his leg closer.  I hadn’t seen anything like this before.  He started crying harder. 

“Hey, buddy, you need to focus, tell Daddy what happened.”

“It was a pterodactyl Daddy, in the toilet, it grabbed my leg.”  He sniffed.

“A dinosaur grabbed your leg, huh?” I grinned “Trying to pull one over on your old dad.”

“No Daddy, a pterodactyl, like with an octopus. Go look.” 

“You mean a tentacle grabbed your leg?” I looked back at the toilet, then back at his leg.  It was a strange looking rash.  And it was swelling.

“Hey buddy, maybe we better go to the hospital when you get out.  And I’m gonna want you to tell Daddy what really happened.”

“Daddy, I’m not lying, it was a big tentacle!”  He was getting noticeably frustrated with the conservation.

He didn’t complain anymore about the pain, which was strange. He just sat in the tub with a far away look on his face.  I went back to his room and grabbed a T-shirt and shorts.  I paused to look in the mirror.  I so wish I had showered this morning.   I stopped in my room and switched my pizza stained sweats out for a semi-clean pair of jeans and my Florida Gators cap.  My wife had promised me an easy day today.

She owed me big time.

When I got back to the bathroom, Andrew hadn’t moved.  That just didn’t seem right; he was talking softly about an imaginary tentacle as I took him from the tub dried him off.  His leg really didn’t look good.  The rash seemed to cause numerous small circles all around a section of leg.  I had no idea what a tentacle would do to a human leg; but I could see why he thought it would look like this. 

The roads were clear on the way to the hospital.  At least the world wasn’t entirely against me.  I turned down the radio and leaned my chair back a little. “Andrew, I want you to tell Daddy exactly when this rash started.”

Andrew was silent for a moment then answered. “Daddy, it’s not a rash, it was a tentacle.” I peered back.  Whatever it was, it seemed to be turning black and blue.  The more I looked at it, the more I could see where tiny suction cups could have attached to my sons legs.  Although I was also sure I had probably just been watching too much Cartoon Network.  “It came from the toilet, Daddy, a long arm with suckers like an octopus.”

I looked back at his eyes this time.  “Did a giant tentacle really get your leg, Andrew?”

A smile finally crossed his lips.  “Yes, Daddy.” 

It didn’t take long to arrive at the hospital.  I picked up Andrew and carried him in.  The nurse at the front desk gave me a cold look when she saw Andrew’s leg, but she waved us back.  One of the nice things about living in a small town is that you seldom have to wait at an ER.  It also helps my son was very accident prone.  As they knew us well here; much better then I wished they did.

“Hello, Mr. Weathers, what is the problem today?” she asked.  I finished laying Andrew in the hospital bed. 

“Well, I think we’re dealing with a rash, although Andrew is claiming rouge octopus attack.” I tried to grin. “It does kind of look like a tentacle or something was wrapped around his leg, doesn’t it?  I mean, have you ever heard of something like that before?” I felt like such a fool even asking.  “An octopus or squid or something, living in the sewers?”

“You want me to put octopus attack on this chart, Mr. Weathers?” Nurse Beth apparently was not a nurse with a sense of humor; weren’t heavy people supposed to be jolly?  

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet as Beth took Andrew's vitals.  I held his hand but he seemed distracted, probably because of the Sponge Bob playing on the TV. “No, of course not, I told you I think it's some sort of rash.  I heard him crying upstairs and when I got there, his leg looked like this.” I leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Poor little guy.”

Blood pressure normal, temperature normal, pulse up a little but that was to be expected.  I was never sure if I was meant to keep track of all these details or not.  Would Stacey want to know? Would the doctor be giving me a pop quiz later?  I hate hospitals.  Are they made to make us feel stupid?  Wouldn’t all these things be normal anyway if Andy had been attacked by an octopus?

“Mr. Weathers, the doctor will be in to see you and Andrew shortly.” I sat by the bed running my fingers through Andrews hair.  “Any minute now, buddy.”  He merely shook his head.  He was tired; it had been a long day. 

I was tired, too.  Unable to handle any more Sponge Bob, I flipped through the 12 channels on the little TV mounted next to the bed.  The world once again seemed against me, and after flipping through a Discovery underwater special and Oprah interviewing a shark attack survivor, I was forced to settle on Little House on the Prairie. I put my head down on the corner of Andrew’s bed and closed my eyes.  Within minutes I was asleep, dreaming of octopuses and giant squids.

“Mr. Weathers, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.  I’m Dr. Allen, this is Mrs. Cole with the Department of Social Services, and this is Officer Elkhart.  The two of them would like to have a few words with you as I examine your son’s injuries.” I looked up, squinting as the light stung my eyes.  The lady and the cop stood behind the doctor.  She wore a light pink suit and held a stack of file folders. 

“What’s the problem?  Was there really an octopus, or maybe a squid?  I’d rather not leave Andrew alone right now; the hospital can be a pretty scary place.” The cop stepped forward.  He looked menacing. 

“Your wife has been notified and will be here shortly, Mr. Weathers; please, come with us.”  His voice was deep. He smiled in front of my son and the doctor, but I could tell he meant business.  I couldn’t believe they were giving me a hard time about this, unless… unless they were in on it too.  They knew about the monster and wanted me to cover it up.  I had to find out for sure; this had to be the answer.

The woman in pink put her hand on my shoulder.  “Please, Mr. Weathers, this will only take a moment.” She had a cool voice; it reminded me of my second grade teacher.

I followed the two of them down to a small room, and the two of them waited for me to enter, then followed close behind.  Mrs. Cole sat in her pink suit on one side of the table and me on the other; the cop stood silently by the door.  “Mr. Weathers, I would like you to explain your son’s injuries today”. 

“Well, it may sound crazy, but I’m thinking you may already know and that’s why we’re here.”  I leaned back confidently.

The woman just sat there looking at me from across the table.  I was beginning to feel uncomfortable again, and sweat formed at my temples.  She sat there, her green eyes burning into my own, and the second grade teacher had turned into an evil librarian.

Fine. My son, he may have, or well,” I stumbled over my words.  I took a breath.  “I believe my son was attacked earlier today by some sort of monster while using the bathroom,” I blurted out and then stopped.  This did sound crazy; really crazy. “I’m a good dad, you know; I had fallen asleep on the couch, but only for a minute.  Then he screamed.”

“Mr. Weathers, your son has a ring of bruises around his leg.  It’s black, blue, and swelling badly, and its width is very similar to the width of your hand.  Can you explain your child’s injuries?”

Alright, maybe they weren’t here to cover up a monster octopus attack.  Man, am I stupid.  “Listen, maybe you should speak with Andrew.  He claimed he was attacked by some sort of tentacle in the bathroom.  I had just fallen asleep on the couch after the Florida game.”

Mrs. Cole just sat there.  “Well, Mr. Weathers, we are here now, why don’t we just talk?”

“I don’t know, maybe he had some sort of accident or something, I don’t know,” I repeated.  “I'm offended by what you’re implying, and I’d like to go check in on my son now.  I’d like to go and find out what hurt my son.” A cold sweat broke over me.  I needed to get home.  I started to stand but the cop helped me back to me seat. 

“Maybe it was an accident, Mr. Weathers?  Like Andrew’s split lip from last month?” She held up the first of a stack of file folders.

“He fell down the stairs.”

“And the chest and back burns?”

“He had a shower mishap.”

“The burnt hand?”

“He touched a hot lawn mower.”

“The broken arm?”

“He fell out the back of my truck when we were washing it.”

“The cracked skull, Mr. Weathers?”

“Another trip down the stairs.”

“And now a… tentacle, was it?  Do you really expect us to believe that?”

“Yes, I do!” I shouted.  Man, I hate this woman.  “My son said he was attacked by a tentacle, and I believe him.  Now I need to get home and see if I can find the thing that hurt him.  I didn’t hurt him, so you can either make yourself helpful and come with me back to my house, or you can get out of my way.” I stood up this time and moved towards the door.

Mrs. Cole remained calm.  “We would love to come with you, Mr. Weathers.  Please prove us wrong.”

As we left the room, I could see my wife down the hall with my son.  I wanted to go talk with her, but I had no idea what they had told her at this point.  I would return home first and find the monster that hurt my son.

I made my way back to my house.  I could see Mrs. Cole and Elkhart in the car behind me.  I was starting to regret my decision to invite them along.  Was I really expecting to find a monster just sitting there in my toilet?  Stacy was always getting on my case about making rash decisions.  I preferred to think of myself as decisive.  I wished I hadn’t been so decisive this time.

It didn’t take long before we were pulling into my driveway.  I glanced around, making sure the neighbors weren’t out, and then looked back to my house, wishing I had mowed or painted the shutters recently.  My lawn looked like the lawn of a guy who would be arrested for child abuse.  Although the unpainted shutters said, ‘Perhaps a giant octopus lives here.’ A giant octopus; I still can’t believe this is best case scenario.

I got out of the car as Elkhart and Cole pulled in the driveway, and they were at my side before I had gotten the door unlocked.  We walked through the house in silence.  I turned to the cop. “So, ever kill a monster before?” He didn’t smile.

I heard a splash.  “Stop!”  The three of us stood in silence, and then I heard the sound again.  It was coming from the upstairs bathroom.  I dropped my keys and raced up the stairs. 

As I opened the bathroom door I heard a splash and something descended into the bowl.  I rushed forward to catch it, but slipped on the pee, and slammed into the sink, ending up on my back.  I sat up and reached into the toilet, I splashed around trying to force my arm down a hole that was too small.  

Cole and Elkhart stood there looking at me like I was insane.  “I’m sorry, Mr. Weathers, I didn’t hear anything,”  Mrs. Cole said in her normal cool voice.

“Fine, we’ll just have to remove the toilet.”  I started removing bolts, and turning off the water.  “Well, aren’t you gonna give me a hand?  What did you come along for, anyway?”  Mrs. Cole gave Elkhart a look, and he stepped forward and helped me lift the bowl. I peered into a long, dark, empty tube.

I wasn’t sure how long I stared at the empty tube.  Mrs. Cole and the cop had moved outside the bathroom and were talking in hushed tones.  I strained to look even further down the hole.  Wait, was something moving down there?  It was, and it was coming up. 

“Hey,” I started to say, but no one paid any attention.  Elkhart stood with his back to me.  I stood and charged him, crashing into him and knocking him through part of the hallway’s drywall.  I grabbed his gun wildly shot three times at the hole in the floor of the bathroom.  Mrs. Cole screamed as I ran to the hole.  It was empty.  I turned, bringing the gun on them.  “Shut up, just shut up!” I paused. “And get in here.” We were all watching the hole.

I realized my heart was racing, I had just kidnapped a cop and a social worker, and there was no going back.  But they had to see it, they had to believe.  I know what I saw.  “I’m sorry about this, I really am.” Mrs. Cole looked at me. “Look at the hole!” I screamed.  “Now, listen, I’m not a bad guy.  I have a degree from the University of Florida.  I teach at a private school.  I’m on my church leadership board.  I didn’t do anything wrong. There has to be a monster in the toilet.  There has to be.”

I paced throughout the room.  Where do I go from here?  I looked out the window, lights were flashing down my street.  Man, it doesn’t take long to respond to a gun shot in this neighborhood.  I should be happy:  my tax dollars at work.

As the police got out of the first car, I opened the window and shouted down to them.  “It's ok, I have everything under control,” I waved the gun at them. “Everything is under control.  Don’t come up here, it's dangerous.”

They didn’t leave, but scattered behind the doors of their cars.  Soon more cars were arriving.  Well, that didn’t work.  I left the window open, but shut the curtains.  Walking back over to the hole I saw nothing, but tears were streaming down Mrs. Cole’s face.

“Mr. Weathers, we have you surrounded.”  I looked out the window and saw a man with a megaphone at the center of the cars.  “You have no place to go.  We would ask that you let the hostages go, and no one has to get hurt.” I could hear the uncertainty in his voice.  This must have been his first hostage situation.  It was mine, and I was scared out of my mind

I shouted back, “This isn’t what it looks like. It’s all a mistake.” There may have never been a greater mistake.  “There is a monster in my sewer lines, it attacked my son; we’re waiting here to see it.” If only the tentacle would show up, this could all be over.

“Mr. Weathers there will be no more waiting.  Send out the hostages or we will be forced to come in.”   

“I don’t want any hostages, but I don’t want to get hurt.  I need to find this thing.  Let me talk to my wife.  I’ll send out Mrs. Cole if you let me talk to my wife.”

I assumed the silence was a yes, and I used my gun to wave Mrs. Cole to the door.  I’d seen too many movies.  Time passed slowly.  I could hear footsteps in the halls coming towards me, and I kept Elkhart staring at the hole.

“Honey?  What are you doing up there?” Stacey’s voice was a sweet release from the madness; the stress seemed to wash away.

“I’m waiting for the monster that attacked Andy, you need to make them understand, show them his leg.”

“Nothing attacked Andrew.  You need to come down.  Andrew had been outside playing in the woods while you were asleep.  He didn’t want to get in trouble so he made up the story about the tentacle.  He only came back in because he had to use the bathroom.  But he waited too long and had the accident.

I stumbled back from the window devastated.  What had I seen?  I guess it didn’t matter now.  What was I going to do? 

“I’m coming out.  Back off, though.” I waved Elkhart out with the gun, and he flashed me a look that said I didn’t want to go back to the station with him.  “I’m coming out myself,” I shouted.  “I didn’t hurt anyone.”

I could see cops with their weapons drawn at the far end of the hallway.  Still holding the gun, I had lifted my hands over my head and started to step out the door when I felt something wrap around my leg.  I tripped, falling forward through the doorway.  The tentacle!  My finger tightened around the trigger and I heard the gun go off, then I heard several other shots, pain ripped through my body, then nothing. 

 
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