The Pottyarchy: Chapter Two

I turned around cautiously and saw none other than NaCl. Her moonlight colored hair brought memories of all the nights I had spent looking up at the stars in the park. The cold grey almond shaped eyes that sat on her face stared into my soul; freezing it for a moment.

“I think you have the wrong person,” I said. “Nobody has given me a gift in quite a while.”

“Maybe you don’t get any gifts because you always react like that,” NaCl said as she pointed at the drool sliding down my face.

I, semi-embarrassedly, wiped the drool off my face with one of the pictures I had of her.

“Come, sit.” I motion for her to come in my mausoleum.

NaCl was hesitant, but gave in and sat next to Betty White’s soon-to-be coffin. I internally paid my respects on her soon-to-be grave.

“I didn’t see you today in the trash can at lunch,” she said while looking at the cold linoleum floor.

“That’s why I came looking for you. You seem like the type of person who hangs out in cemeteries.”

I fidgeted with my fingers for a moment – I’d never been this close to her. I could smell her strawberry dog shampoo and her minty weasel-treat breath; I could only suspect that her parents let her use a bathroom.  

“So how does your bathroom look like?” I asked.

“What?” her pupils widen with arousal and confusement.

“I want to get to know you better and this is the only way I know how. Plus, I’ve never seen a home bathroom so I’d like to know what one looks like.”

“Wait, don’t you use your own bathroom at home?”

“Long story short, my mom hasn’t let me use our 17 bathrooms. Ever. When I was young, she allowed me the privilege of taking care of my business outside in the backyard, but not anymore. Not even the dogs have to do that. They all have their own private bathrooms,” I explained with detachment, I was careful not to make mother sound weird.

“I can tell you what your bathroom looks like,” NaCl whispered as she inched closer to me.   

“Que? Sorry, I was just practicing for my Spanish test. H-How do you know what it looks likes?” my voice quivered with disappointment.  

“I go pretty often. Daily, actually,” she began. “Your mom and my mom have some sort of ‘friendship’. I don’t know the specifics, but your mom lets me use your bathroom.”

My heart began to ache, I could not believe that mother would do such a thing. I got up quickly and stormed out of Betty White’s mausoleum. Tears carved valleys on my face as I walked away from Nancy Claire; how could she betray me this way? I clenched my hands into fists and began punching the air, I imagined it was the nuclear water from the park that mutated my human DNA into doggo DNA. I stomped loudly through the isles of unmarked graves and headed back the way I came.

“Doug! Wait!” she yelled as I passed through the rusted-iron gates that enclosed the cemetery.

My footsteps echoed through the empty streets; the republic raid had apparently ended. I walked all the way to the sign that read “Welcome to Hicksville.” I debated whether I should disobey mother and leave. My thoughts became jumbled and emotion took control of my actions. I went out into the road and waited for the Uber (you-ber) I called.

My Uber driver was wearing a shirt that said “Off With Obama.” The events from earlier flashed through my memory and I realized that he was one of them. I feared for my life and prayed to my Whig club members to get me home safely. The drive home was a clear one, there was no traffic, but I could see NaCl chasing me in another Uber.

“That’s gonna be $37.86,” he said as we pulled into my driveway. “Make sure you don’t hand me no money that’s been handled by a democrat. Or Obama.”

“Um…” I reached in my pockets and handed him the wad of receipts my dad gave me earlier. “Will this cover it?”

He stared at me dead in the eyes for almost 5 minutes and said, “Alright, do you want your change back?”

“No keep it, it’s okay, I got plenty more.”

As I’m walking up to my house I hear the beautiful voice of the person who betrayed me.

“Doug, can we talk?” Nancy Claire begged.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

I closed the door in her face, I then realized that I needed to get out before mother got home.


Read the first chapter here:

Continue the adventure:


North Mesquite High School, blue prints author. Sophomore and band aficionado.

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