Behold, I stand at the bathroom door . . .

 Behold, I stand at the bathroom door and knock. 

“It was a Luther-an moment,” Axel was saying.* “Eschatological, scatological. Demons rush in where even fools fear to tread.”

     “Nice,” I said. “You’ve been working on that.”

     “What?” he said.

     “Don’t play innocent,” I said. “That sentence.”

     “Maybe,” he said.

“Last night,” he said. “Ten o’clock. There’s a knock on the bathroom door. The outside. I’m on the inside, engaged in my business, which hasn’t been as productive as I’d like lately. But some success.

     “Then, a knock.”

“Is this a ghost story?” I said.

     “No. ‘Who’s there?’ I say. I wonder, ‘Did I leave the front door unlocked?’ - but I don’t think so? I think, ‘Who has a key?’

     “‘Are you all right?’ a woman’s voice says. 
     “‘Who is it?’ I say again. 
     “‘Bel,’ she says. 
     “‘What are you doing here?’ 
     “‘Are you all right?’ she says again. 
     “‘What are you doing here?’

     “‘The church called.’ 
     “‘What do you mean? - it’s ten o’clock at night.’

     “‘Someone from the church called - a Frank something.’ 
     “‘Why?’ 
     “‘Someone died.’

     “‘No. I meant, Why did he call you?’ 
     “‘I don’t know. You didn’t answer your phone? Are you all right?’

     “‘My phone didn’t ring. Who died?’

     “‘I don’t know. He said if I could get hold of you, you should call him.’”

“Bel has a key?” I asked. “And Frank Something knows she has a key?” I asked Axel.

     “I don’t know what Frank Something knows,” Axel said.

     “Who died?” I asked.
      “No one,” Axel said. “No one died.”

06.04.18

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 *  About Axel, click here. About Bel Monk, click here.