Laundry Man

The early morning sun cast a blue hue onto the tile floor as it passed through the Sunrise Laundry banner on the front windows. Jake Tanner swept the coin-op side of the business as the mysterious Mrs. Lin waited on customers on the dry cleaning side. The ten washing machines in the center row were finishing up their weekly test run while Jake chased the last few breadcrumbs left over from a customer’s Sunday meal.

Soft instrumental acoustic guitar sounds drifted in from hidden speakers - music he had heard hundreds of times before. Should he mop now or wait until tomorrow? The floor at a place called Sunrise should shine, as Mrs. Lin would say - repeatedly.

In a perfect world he could mop before opening, but the machines had to be emptied for the daily tally before Mrs. Lin tried to ‘help out’ and do it first. She dealt with customers and dry cleaning, he did the rest. That was the deal.

As the first ten machines wound down their cycles and chimed their alarms in quick succession, Jake moved on to test the remaining washers. Two twenties fed into the ancient change machine triggered a flood of quarters. He headed from machine to machine, transferring the haul from a dirty plastic cup to fuel the longest cycle on each.

Jake pulled his baseball hat low. That and his grungy, faded coveralls usually made any stray customers decide Mrs. Lin was the better choice to ask for help.

He grabbed his broom and headed back to switch over to mop and bucket, hoping to slip past Mrs. Lin as she dealt with the sole customer in the shop.

“You need mop today,” Mrs. Lin said in a brand of broken English unique to her. “People drag dirt in all day yesterday. Floor filthy.”

She always has to do that in front of customers.

He shook his head as he headed back to the utility room. Mrs. Lin smiled at him as he walked past. He rolled his eyes. She played it up for her audience. “Sorry for mess - he need do better job.”

The bell at the front door rang as the customer left the shop. Jake watched the water fill the mop bucket in the sink and ran over the day’s to-do list. First: Mop the floor to shut Mrs. Lin up. Then, on to the next location for another round of cleaning, tallying, and maintenance. Plus the vending machines. Then hit the car wash before heading to the bank.

Three stops - four with the bank - and with luck he’d be done by 1 PM, then he could deal with other pressing matters. Maybe he could skip the car wash. No complaint calls, plus it rained the past two days. A little break in the routine.

Jake snapped out of his trance as the bucket overflowed into the sink. He hoisted the bright yellow beast onto the dolly and stuck a mop in. Sounds of another customer just outside the room. Must have come in when the other one left. An annoying voice caught his ear - and this time it wasn’t Mrs. Lin.

He pushed the bucket out of the utility room. The strong scent of overpriced floral perfume hit his nose hard. He kept his head down and tried to sneak over to the other side to mop in peace. Whoever owned that voice and perfume didn’t need to see him. Almost there…

“Jake?”

Shit.

“Jake Tanner?” the voice called out again, carrying the affectation of a truly loathsome woman. His shoulders dropped as he looked back wearily at the counter.

“Jake Tanner! I thought that was you!” she said, her tone much too enthusiastic to be considered genuine.

Claire Best. Mid-fifties, by all accounts. The words ‘snooty’ and ‘pretentious’ personified. He had only met her a handful of times, but the impression she made matched up with the many stories he used to hear about her daily.

Jake looked back, opened his mouth, and pointed his finger. “Uh …” he paused. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of acknowledgement. He wagged his finger a little, making it bounce up and down to show he was struggling to put a name to the face.

“It’s Claire! Claire Best! I work with Sarah at Brookstone!” Claire exclaimed, her face much less animated than her voice.

“Ah, yeah, sure. Brookstone Claire. Been a while.” Not long enough. Her arrival here was not in his plans. Plans would have to change. Maybe to his benefit.

“It certainly has!” Claire said with a sing-song delivery that crested with each word. “And look at you! Didn’t you use to be a computer person?”

“A computer programmer person, yes. Used to be.”

“Well, they say any job is a good job,” Claire said as she looked around the laundry. “Though I’m probably not cut out for this one.” She laughed, trying to appear modest instead of demeaning, as though it was a physical limitation, not a cultural one, that would keep her from such a lowly line of work.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m just here to drop off a few things,” she added to casually explain her slumming it. “It’s getting cold, and my cashmeres need to be freshened up for fall!”

“Well, Mrs. Lin does good work,” Jake replied.

“She certainly does.” Claire paused, trying to figure out a segue. “Speaking of good work, Sarah just got a promotion and Richard gave her a new company car. That girl was always destined for greater things.”

“Huh.” A new car. Jake wondered what happened to the old one he had unwittingly paid for.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think that wound would still be fresh.”

“Long past fresh,” Jake replied, twisting the broom handle and swirling the soapy water in the mop bucket.

“Of course dear, of course,” Claire said as she grabbed the claim ticket from Mrs. Lin. “Sometimes she and Susan talk about you ...” Claire stopped. She didn’t have to say any more.

Jake’s jaw clenched. He knew how Susan talked to her sister about him - the loser who would never amount to anything, always getting little digs in at his expense. Wait until they heard the news about janitor Jake from a gossip like Claire. Bad timing, but he could adapt.

“Well, gotta get back to work,” Jake said.

Claire reached forward and put her hand on Jake’s left arm. “Hopefully the job situation works out for you,” she said, feigning sympathy. As she walked out the door, she let out a faint but sharp giggle that managed to make it to Jake’s ears.

“You know her?” Mrs. Lin asked.

“Unfortunately.”

“She annoying.”

“Yep,” Jake said, as he watched Claire get into her Mercedes G-Wagon.

“Who Sarah?” Mrs. Lin prodded.

“Nobody,” Jake replied as he started rolling the bucket to the other side of the building.

Mrs. Lin raised her voice. “Why you no tell her you own this place? She treat you like dirt!”

Jake paused as he watched Claire pull away in her status symbol.

“She doesn’t need to know. Better off if she doesn’t.”

The wet mop hit the tile floor. A sly smile grew on his face. “Not yet, anyway,” he said under his breath.