Xanga-September 13, 2005

Part 3: In Wait
It started very slowly. The tiniest of shocks felt to Harry's backside. He barely felt it-and didn't think of it because of the pain in his stomach. The next shock (only a couple of minutes later) was stronger, bolder. Harry jumped in his seat. 'What the...?' he asked himself. And then there was a third, even stronger than the last. Strong enough to make Harry jump up-standing and panting only to need to sit immediately back down.
It was quiet now and had been for several minutes. Harry was beginning to believe that he was thinking and feeling things. 'After all, how could you get electrical shocks from a toilet seat anyway?', he pondered. He looked carefully at the sides and the back of the toilet as much as he could but knowing that he'd find nothing.
And then the biggest shock of all. The lights dimmed and Harry sat upright unable to escape. His arms and legs went rigid and painfully numb. All of the muscles in his body seemed to be charlie horsing at once. He clenched his teeth unable to scream, his eyes wide. His body jerked and pulsed now, his arms and legs loose but unable to work to get him up and away. Then it was over and Harry sat on the toilet limp and lifeless. The automatic flusher buzzed and hummed with normalcy before flushing itself.
No one thought anything of his truck ideling in the lot. It was assumed that he was in the cab sleeping. Even as dawn approached and the truckers began to hit the road, no one thought it to be odd.
A slim black man by the name of Earl found Harry's body. He always cleaned the men's room at 6:45 am. First, he called out, ' 'Ello, anybody in here?!?' Then he went in pounding each door open and still calling hello. When he got to Harry's stall and the door didn't budge, he paused. 'Hello?' Earl mumbled something about stupid kids and ducked under the stall door. He was under and in before he realized what, who was in there too. 'Holy Mary, Mother of God!', Earl exclaimed looking up. He struggled with the door latch and came spilling out. Earl dashed into the lobby where someone else was mopping. 'There's some mother fucker dead on the shitter in there!', Earl cried. The other man shook his head but followed Earl in. The two stood there looking in disbelief at dead Harry on the toilet.
The police were called and they contacted his wife. She declined an autopsy under speculation from the coroner that Harry had simply had a heart attack. His career, eating habits and size all pointed to such. Because no one looked into the real cause of death, electrocution, no one looked into fixing the toilet. Not that anyone could. So the toilet sat silent, only broken by the beeps and clicks of the automatic flusher. It lay in wait, the read light flashing, for its next victim on the Nebraska prairie.

[EDIT-Originally published to Blogger on 9/24/11.]