Cry Me . . .
"But surely it's a waste of fresh water?"
"Indeed Madam. I'll send someone to fix it later on. You just leave it to me and we will sort it out for you."
The steward left the cabin and made his way down the gangway mumbling about people and their diminutive complaints. So what if the tap was dripping? Was it his fault? He had thirty five cabins to attend to, and barely enough time to get them all sorted for their breakfast trays let alone dealing with recalcitrant plumbing. As he rushed past number twenty seven, the door opened and a large burly man stepped in front of him.
"I've rung four times. Now I've got you." The man grabbed hold of the steward's collar and frog marched him inside the cabin and over to the tiny bathroom. "There!" he pointed, sticking the steward's face a few inches from the hand basin. "See what I mean?"
"Ye . . yes Sir. It's dripping."
"Well. get something done about it. You've got until lunch time."
The steward, now released from the man's grip, straightened his tunic and sidled past the large passenger, swiftly putting distance between himself and the cabin door. He didn't get far.
"Steward," a genteel but commanding voice came from further down the gangway, "would you come in here a moment please. Number nineteen."
"I'm coming Sir." The steward was getting annoyed now, worrying about the breakfast trays he had yet to deliver. "Steward!" the voice commanded again. He was now at number nineteen. Opening the door with his pass key, he peeked in. No one there. He was about to turn and get back to his work when his passenger spoke again.
"I'm in the bathroom, I'm stuck!"
It was a small bathroom. They were all small, but this one was diminutive by other standards. The passenger had somehow become wedged in the shower cubicle. The water was pouring down. Squeezing his arm in past the naked man, the steward managed to shut off the water. His tunic became soaked. For a moment they were both locked in a gruesome tangle of wet cloth, bare flesh and plastic curtain. The man struggled but that only served to wedge the poor steward tighter.
"Please Sir, calm down. It will all get sorted out if you do as I say." The passenger was portly, too fat by far for this size shower cubicle. The steward had had this happen before in this cabin, but then the passenger had not panicked.
With his free arm, the steward managed to get a grip on the towel rail and a foot against the wall and shoved hard. The pink flesh quivered as he applied more pressure, but nothing else moved. The steward relaxed for a few moments to conserve his strength.
Flop! A sodden sponge dropped out of the worried passenger's hand and fell to the floor of the unit. For some unfathomable reason, the passenger tried to bend down to retrieve it. Now the steward was locked even tighter against the side of the cubicle rim, his free arm could no longer grab the towel rail. Both passenger and steward were locked in an unholy embrace.
The steward realised the leg braced against the wall was becoming numb. Trying to wiggle his toes, his foot slipped, he no longer was in touch with anything solid. As his body rested mid-air, his light weight succumbed to gravity. As he fell, a vacuum that had held them locked together suddenly collapsed and both passenger and steward fell out into the cabin, the steward beneath a now drying mound of flesh.
"Oomph," was the only sound to come out of the steward's mouth as the passenger's weight coupled with the earth's pull, flattened him.
"Thank you! Thank you!" cried the passenger as he wriggled off the prone steward and climbed up onto the edge of the bed. The bed cover served as a temporary towel which mopped up the last of the moisture on his skin. He held his hand out to the steward. "Here, grab my hand." After a few deep breaths and an inner strength he never knew he possessed, the steward did so. His knees almost buckled beneath him but finally he was able to stand and after ascertaining that the passenger was indeed unhurt, the steward made his way out along the gangway and back to his own quarters.
Bells rang constantly but he needed a break. Breakfast trays could wait. Ringing for the off-duty steward, he explained the situation. The new man prepared the breakfasts and deftly distributed them all along the line of cabins. The turning off of the shower he exclaimed, had stopped the dripping in the other cabins. Some glitch in the system it seemed. Everything went back to normal. The passenger never took another shower, preferring to clean himself at the onboard Spa and the cruise continued unmarked from then on.
© Copyright Evelyn J. Steward. Mar. 2012.
Words 824
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 07.05.2012
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