victorville by Oakley ayden
Casey was Googling the spiritual significance of diarrhea when Charity’s name appeared through fragments of iPhone glass barely holding whole beneath a jaded screen protector. She’d been driving I-15 South from Hinkley to her San Bernardino home when the sudden internal swell forced an unplanned Walmart stop in Victorville. Casey knew to never trust Southern California establishments to offer easy public restrooms. Gas stations, fast food joints, grocery stores almost always kept commodes behind code and key. Walmarts still allowed relief without requiring a request, and for this reason alone, they were classified godsend — the only public restrooms living up to the laid back reputation Southern California loves to claim.
At the sight of Charity’s name, Casey’s mind shot straight from shitter spirituality research inside her bathroom stall to South Carolina. To the sight of Charity’s soft silhouette blending with the moonlit North Myrtle Beach shoreline. To chilled autumn nights spent sitting on sand, sipping shared bottles of muscadine wine after their seasonal Hallmark Store cashier shifts had wrapped. Charity had lived off the Carolina coast all her life and adamantly refused to go out onto the beach until the sun had set and all traces of summer humidity had subsided. Casey, autistic and easily overstimulated by the hot syrupy dampness, concurred with Charity’s logic, falling lightly in love in the process.
The two of them hadn’t directly spoken to one another in months. Not since January. Not since Casey’s cross-country move; since the night Casey finally admitted to herself that Charity would never do the work required to evolve physical infatuation into authentic partnership. Onward was the only option that allowed for her own self preservation. She was done with seasonal shifts in Gator Hole Plaza, with Hinkley, with self-induced downfalls.
After Casey’s departure, the only interaction between her and Charity had been sporadic TikTok exchanges all spring and now into summer. No Streaks were earned through consistent video exchanges. No accompanying dialogue included in the message thread. Nothing of substance to sustain their bond. The season they were briefly them had been steadily shifting to inactive, into memory.
Diarrhea can be seen as a physical manifestation of the spiritual and emotional cleansing processes. This experience may signify the release of negative energies, emotions, or thought patterns.
Astute words Casey had found on HiddenSignficance.com returned to her screen as the flash of Charity’s waved mahogany hair faded after the call was neither accepted nor declined. She took it as a sign. She took everything as a sign now.
After locking its screen, Casey slid the phone down into the top of her black sports bra, feeling the voicemail notification vibration briefly pulse on top of her breast just after doing so. Proactively gathering a small ball of toilet paper from the dispenser to her left, Casey willed her hands to stay wrapped around the wad, away from her phone.
Outside her stall, women shifted from sink, to soap, to automated hand driers. Casey listened, steadied herself, resisting urges as tears welled. Trying. Waiting for the right combination of ambient bathroom noise to mask the needed, inevitable release.
Oakley Ayden is a writer and political organizer from North Carolina. Her words have appeared in a number of publications. She lives in California with two children and too many foster cats.
