FICTION WHY DID YOU DO THAT?
P
JOHN LEWINGTON
eter dodged road traffic when living Fremantle Market to get to his car in the multi-story carpark. Fremantle was dull with grey clouds dumping torrents of winter rain. He was dying for a pee and the feeling seemed to be more stimulated by the water sound on the pavement! There were toilets outside the car park so he diverted that way and was immediately confounded. The old welcoming toilets that he remembered from a previous visit had been replaced by three shining steel fronts. At first he didn’t even register that it could be a new type toilet. In fact there were three unisex toilets facing the street. He was looking for a handle on what he supposed to be the smooth door of one unit, when it occurred to him that he would have to read the instructions on the side of the door. There was a red flashing light button with words underneath. ‘Toilet free. Please press to enter.’ He pressed the red button as instructed and the shiny door slid open as if to an Aladdin’s cave. It however revealed a large room, bigger than the usual size for even the disabled person’s toilet; the room was flooded with light from a hidden source. He entered the windowless room in great surprise. So different from the old loo. The door closed silently behind him. To his left was apparently a steel table, flush to the wall, which evidently would come down as a babies nappy changing table if one pressed yet another red button. To the left of the wall table, in the corner, was the toilet. Peter sighed with relief going towards it unzipping his trousers. As he got half way across the room music sounded from a hidden speaker, it was soft and soothing. The plastic toilet seat was down and showing signs of being wet. It didn’t dawn on him that it was not urine but the result of some kind of cleaning after the last user. He knocked the seat up. Peter finished peeing and looked for the button to press for the flush. There was none. There was a red button to the left of the toilet seat, which, when pressed, started to roll out toilet paper on request. He amused himself experimenting expressing the paper. He then turned to the opposite of the room where there were three basins in a row. The left one had a red button, of course, to press for soap. The second red button to press for water. Peter never got around to checking the third basin. He became uncomfortably aware of one thing that bothered him. There were no windows in the room. The music might have been to lull fears of confinement in closed space, but it had no effect on Peter. Instead, his old, almost forgotten, fear came to the fore claustrophobia - it was as if someone was putting a metal band around his head at the forehead. And tightening it, slowly, slowly… It was bad timing that he should then notice yet another red button which stated below it. ‘If red alarm shows vacate toilet immediatly.’ Vacate immediately? A panic went through Peter’s uneasy mind. Why? In his agitated state it did not occur to him that the toilet would be disinfected automatically once he was out of the room at a certain time. Instead he shivered. The pressure increased. The shining walls around him were beginning to encroach on his space. He tried to hurry. For some stupid reason he pressed the button for soap with a fingers of his left hand. The music stopped. Silence. A voice over his shoulder spoke. “Why did you do that?”
Peter swung around but there was nobody there. The voice had been so clear. He started to sweat. There was something in his head giving him a lifting feeling; he was beginning to dissociate himself from his body. Another symptom of claustrophobia. He looked for a loud speaker but saw only recessed areas where lights, and whatever worked the toilet, were situated. “Who’s there?” Peter demanded. “Where the hell are you?” Silence… The voice came again. “Why did you do that? You’ve affected my ivec cells. Why did you do that?” Peter’s eyes scanned the room. “Come out! Where the hell are you? What’s happened to the music?” An awful thought came to him. There were hidden cameras. Silence. “Why did you do that? You’ve affected my ivec cells. Why did you do that?” Peter felt his anxiety level rise and rise. In his mind the room’s walls were getting much closer… He looked towards the toilet door on the road side of the room and saw yet another red button with the notice underneath. ‘Press to exit’ Peter sweated. He had to get out… He took two steps towards the door. Silence. Then the voice came again. “Why did you do that? You’ve affected my ivec cells. The door will not open.” Peter screamed as the pressure on his brain increased. Ignoring the voice he crossed to the shinning door to press the red button frantically. Silence. The voice droned relentlessly. “Why did you do that? You’ve affected my ivec cells. Please wait!” Peter was frantic. “I can’t wait! I must get out! For God’s sake let me out! I’m claustrophobic damn you! Don’t you understand?” His hand slammed on the shinning door. Silence. “Why did you do that? My ivec cells do not recognise claustrophobia. Do you require darkness?” The lights went out. In pitch blackness Peter screamed and screamed. “No! No! No! I must get out! He slipped down by the side of the door banging on it with his fist shouting hysterically. “Let me out! For Chrissake! Let me out!” Silence. The voice came again: “Why did you do that? My ivec cells are responding please wait.” Peter continued to scream and pound the door. “Out! Out! Out!” Silence. Then the music came on as did the lights. Peter scrambled to his feet banging again on the door with renewed vigour. “Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!” Silence. Then the voice reproached hm. “Why did you do that? My ivec cells are working. Please press red exit button.” “About time!” Peter frantically pressed the red button. The shining door slid silently open. Peter staggered out onto hot ground under glaring sunlight. He was dazzled. He squinted at the glowing Fremantle Space Station Shuttle Service. A silver shuttle was silently taking off in the distance for the moon. People in strange shining garb and closed helmets stood looking unperturbed at the event. They ignored Peter’s presence. Peter gasped and threw his hand over his face as he screamed at the scene. “God help me!” A voice in his brain asked. “Why did you say that?” ~THE END~ 49