I’m vulnerable. Being a sensitive guy can open up the most toughest of exteriors. Never more so then when I’m in the shower. Maybe its because that’s when all of us are the most vulnerable of all.
It has to be the warm water crashing down on me from the shower head. Each drop of water being forced out at a high rate of speed striking the back of my neck as the droplets come together to form a cascading waterfall as it rolls down my posterior. It relaxes me, my mind is open.
Or maybe because its the one place I am truly alone. In the shower I am a way from all the distractions of life. Behind the closed doors I am completely naked. Both physically and spiritually. Susceptible to all my emotions.
Alone with my thoughts I am defenseless to my enemies that are sleep depriving me and attacking my mental state. But I do not care for I am truly free in this moment.
The hot water begins to stimulate my blood as my heart pumps it faster through my veins. The warmth of the water retracts my muscles as my blood vessels dilate allowing more blood to fill in the capillaries and blood vessels completely and utterly relaxing my muscle thus, relaxing me.
I tilt my head back and allow the spray of the water to collide with the top of the Parietal of my skull. The water quickly scatters reaching to all areas of my cranium utterly relaxing even the most thick of all bones in the human body. My hard headedness softening and quickly becoming more open minded and my thinking becoming more clearer.
I tilt my head back down and stare forward. I wipe the water from my eyes and then immediately stretch my arms up to the air. The water pools in the enclaves of my clavicle bone. I arch my back and stretch my torso. I cross my arms over my chest. I position my body back to the up right position. The water in the crevasses of my shoulders clavicle spills out. It runs down the sides of my body intermingling with the newer water that has been produced by the shower head. I look straight ahead at the shower caddy and encounter my point of frustration and the tool in which I’ll vent to, the fish.
“What the hell Mimie”, I say to the green and yellow stitched fish.
“I don’t understand what the fuck is going on damn it. Why? Why…would this happen to us”, I said not expecting the fish to talk but hoping Mimie may appear.
I hate to take it out on the shower caddy. After all it did nothing wrong. It actually does a great job of attaching itself to the towel bar. The blue plastic canvass hangs down towards the base of the porcelain tub.
On the face of the canvass other then fish there are pockets. The pockets function as place holders for all the kids play things that they use in the shower.
Its sad that I will take my anger out on it considering all the hard work it has provided us over the years but its just at the wrong place at the wrong time.
“How do you expect me to do this alone God Damn it! Our plans are screwed. Thanks a fucking lot!” I stare intensely at the eye of the cartoon fish. My arms still crossed at my chest. The water flowing down my back rounding at my buttocks and streaming through my legs finding its way to the drain.
“How do I go on Mimie. They boys need their mother damn it. I’m there dad. Fuck!” I stare at the fish. My mind tells me to relax your acting crazy but my raw emotion tells my brain to shut the fuck up.
I point at the fish “The boys Mimie the boys did you not think about them. How do I do this. I’m so scared don’t you even care! I don’t give a shit that I’m capable of doing it. Its not the God damn point.”
Now I’m answering the fish even though the inanimate object is not speaking.
“No, I am so angry right now. You just don’t know. I am here I have always been here for you” my voice begins to elevate. “There are things that aren’t completed yet!”
The water begins to over relax me. My emotions are completely turned on and are outpouring as free as the avalanche of water spouting out.
“You didn’t have to go Mimie” the tears begin to flow, “ You didn’t have to leave us. Or more so the boys!” I point at the fish.
The taste of the salt in my tears flowing into my mouth drowning out the fresh water. I don’t wipe my eyes. I stare intensely at my object that I am directing my anger at.
“I don’t want to go at this alone Mimie. Can’t you see that. Didn’t you know damn it! Didn't you get the damn memo?!”, I lean my left shoulder against the wall. The hot water begins to turn warm because the free flow of it is draining the hot water heater. I reach back without looking and turn the knob all the way towards hot until I can’t turn it anymore.
The steam is billowing up and fogging the shower. Through the white color haze I can still see the lime green fish. He hasn’t moved. Its quite besides the sound of the water projecting out on everything in its unrelenting path.
My tears are still flowing, “Things were okay. Everyone has problems. Issues. What the fuck. Fuck!” I bite down on my teeth. My lips are partially spread showing small glimpses of my top and bottom teeth. I am clinching my teeth so hard they are impenetrable.
“I need you! The boys need you! I need you here for the boys! Don’t you understand that. Didn’t you understand that? Humans shouldn’t be made to suffer but if they do we should heal. How can we heal now!"
My shower begins to turn lukewarm. Intermingled with sporadic cold water. The shock starts to bring me back to reality.
“Haha”, I laugh “I am talking to a fish. Okay Chris you are too relaxed.”
I continue to stare at my fish tail. “Thanks for listening Mimie. Its been tough.”
I turn my back to the shower caddy and turn off the water. I step out to the floor. There is no bath mat so I use the clothes that have been piling up as my feet protectors from the cold tile. I grab the large blue towel from the towel rod that is affixed to the wall across from the toilet and begin to dry my body off. When I am done I replace the towel and get dressed. I head out the bathroom door and I look back towards the shower curtain.
“Did that just happen?” I think to myself, “Maybe this is one fish tale I should keep to myself."
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Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.
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