Amish Jedi: In a City Far, Far Away

Episode 1.2 ~ Batman

I grab a fresh pair of jeans from the jeans drawer, my Yoda shirt, undergarments, and bathroom bag before opening the door—making extra sure the undergarments are tucked firmly between the shirt and pants so Jason-not-Batman can't see them.

He glances up from the newspaper he's reading. The TV is broadcasting one of those 24/7 news channels. They are discussing the stock market.

"Bathroom?"

He points to the door behind him, his eyes taking in the wad of clothes wedged under my arm. "Towels should be folded in the pantry."

"Thanks."

I make my way to the bathroom. Out of habit, before shutting the door, I glance around for a window. There is none on the three walls I can see, so I step inside and pull back the shower curtain expecting there to be a small window above the claw foot—nothing but a wall with chipped paint—purple over yellow.

A knot rises in my throat as I glance back at the living room — my globophobia comes with a heavy side of claustrophobia. I like to think of them as superpowers only they're more debilitating than strengthening. 

I set my things on the narrow bench under where the decorative towels hang—also purple and pink with floral patterns. Then I clear my throat and reenter the living room.

Jason glances up again. "No towels?"

I thumb over my shoulder. "No windows."

"Oh." His expression is understanding—my aunt has informed him of at least on of my issues.

"Soooo..."

"I can sit in the kitchen."

I glance from the kitchen to the TV and back. There should be no way he can see me, but... "How about you give me... fifteen minutes?"

"I promised Megs and Betty."

I clench and unclench my hands, trying to think of a way to counter him. I've got nothing. "Please?"

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple rises and falls, and he rubs the back of his neck. He's contemplating.

Please, Lord, let him leave me alone.

"Fifteen minutes... not a second longer. And I'll keep my door open and yours will be unlocked."

"Deal." Thanks, Lord.

I wait until he closes the door, then use a kitchen chair to prop open the bathroom door, and proceed into the shower. The water is warm and soothing. I leave the curtain cracked so that cool air flows through. If Jason wasn't coming back so soon, I might even fill the tub and soak for a bit. But he is, so I scrub, wash, and shave at ninja speed.

The warm water on my back is like a potion awakening me from a spell of determination. The plan was to get here. Mission accomplished, but now there is way too much room in my brain for wonderings—If he's noticed I'm gone. If he even cares. Perhaps he's relieved—

That thought grabs me by the throat and squeezes. I thought I knew him and that he knew me. Things were going so well between us and then they got messed up royally. He says our breakup is my fault. I led him on. I'm being selfish. After all, he claims he's only asking me to give up one thing I want. But that one thing is everything to me—

The curtain yanks open and icy air envelopes me. A black contraption is pointed at my forehead. Thrusting my arms up to protect my face I slip and land butt-first on the porcelain tub. A large roar shoots from the black contraption — a hairdryer — blasting me in the face.

A girl with a purple pixie cut stands over me, she clicks off the hairdryer. "Who are you, and what have you done with Zia?"

Still sitting in the tub, my knees to my chest to conceal myself, I reach out and snatch the towel. "I am Zia."