Here Cometh the Flood
Falling in and out of a freezing and uncomfortable slumber, Brooke began to dream. She could the see headlights of a car coming up the road. It was stopping in front of her house! In the haze of her subconsciousness, she excitedly watched as a young man walked up to the truck. Jason, one of Brooke's friends (who was leaving for BYU), had come to her rescue!"Hey!" He said. "So... I kept getting this really random image of you dressed as Princess Leah and calling out, 'Jason, you are my only hope.' I figured that, since I couldn't get your princess Leah-ness out of my head and the roads are kind of slick, I'd better check to see if you made it home okay."
"Jason! Princess Leah, huh? Telepathy really does work!!!" she happily spouted.
"What about Telepathy?"
"Umm, never mind"
"Ok...?" he replied, looking slightly confused. "But, if you don't mind my asking, what are you doing in there?"
"Oh, you know," she sarcastically answered. "A girl can't help but enjoy the luxury of sleeping in a Ford pick-up, once in a while. The Ameritel Inn charges a bank-load for one night in their 'Hitch-hiker's Abode' room, but I'm all about doing the real thing for free. First class dirty towels, old t-shirt coverlets, plastic arm-rest pillows, a glorious windshield view of the night sky.... It's the perfect sleeping arrangement!! NOT!"
She explained the truth of her situation to him and they shared a laugh as he proceeded to open her door. She was free, at last! Stepping down onto the icy pavement, she thanked him. "What a gallant thing for you to do, kind Sir... opening a lady's door and all." She giggled and enthusiastically hugged her liberator.
After their joyous embrace, Jason's nose suddenly began to shine. It beamed brighter and brighter, until his whole body was gone. It was as if, due to a case of spontaneous combustion, he had been reduced to nothing but fire. The next thing she knew, the setting and objects in her mind mutated until the ceiling of the truck blurred into view.
Waking from her dream, Brooke was glad to know that Jason hadn't really burst into flame. All lovely thoughts of him and his rescuing her were smothered, though, by the sad reality of her early morning predicament. Having found tape, in the jockey box, she had decided that sticking a piece of cardboard over the cab light would block most of the glare. This had assisted her in sleeping more comfortably. Apparently, though, her tape job had failed and the cardboard barely dangled above her. Having the light revealed again, disturbed her dream and she was anything but pleased. "So much for sleeping in darkness, not that I was really getting much sleep."
The inside of the car was cold enough, when she was exerting energy, but the chill worsened as she lay still. Wondering if a change in position would do her any good, she sat up. The vertical movement brought an unexpected pressure upon her bladder and she knew that, unless she could find some way to relieve herself in the next minute or two, the future of her dad's truck interior would not look or smell very pretty. She had managed to forget about her full bladder, until now. At this point, though, no manner of mind-control tactics could spare her.
With crossed legs, she looked about for some sort of container that would be suitable for the task that she dearly wished to perform. Boxes would not do; she was not about to deal with soggy cardboard. Plus, thoughts of the stench from an open box full of urine was enough to trigger her gag reflexes. The cranks of her creative brain were turning at high speed. Every object in sight suddenly became a science project. Could she somehow transform a flashlight into a toilet... ish... object. "No." How about a camera case? "Not really." Perhaps, a water bottle would do the job. "Or not," she snapped, wishing-- for the first time in her life-- that she was a boy. "If I could only aim!"
Concluding that her inventive skills lacked, she decided to give prayer another chance. After all, she had done what she could and was now in need of a serious miracle. "Please, Heavenly Father, I need your help!" she whispered. "Surely you love my daddy enough to save his car from an explosion of my bladder. I need to pee, like no other, and I need you to help me get out of this car before it happens! PLEASE!!!!!!!" She closed her little prayer in the name of the Savior and then tried her lot at using faith. Grabbing the handle, she took a deep breath, and pushed against the door.
Even without the use of thee's and thou's, Brooke's prayer was answered and the door flew open as if it were never jammed! Her response: "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH!!!! I'm free... I have to pee, but I'm free! Yes!!! Bathroom, here I come!"
It may be hard to believe, but-- with the stinging wind-- the temperature outside of the truck felt lower than that of her previous imprisonment. She would almost prefer to remain huddled on the seat of the truck, but she knew that she needed only to trek to the backyard, through the sliding door and into the house to be warm and one step closer to emptying her gallons.
"I'm almost there" she encouraged herself, as she waddled over the icy ground. As she reached patio, snow began to fall. "Please be open," she pleaded, yanking on the sliding glass door. It flew open as easily as did the door to the truck (after her final prayer, anyways) and she felt a hint of warmth as heat found its way past the blinds. Her hands reached in, to move the blinds out of the way, and felt that a chair was blocking her path. "Are you kidding me?" she murmured. "Honestly!" Crouched on the ground, with every muscle in her body devoting itself to the cause, she wasn't sure if she could spare enough strength to push anything out of the way, without losing control.
Figuring that the chair would need to be moved for her to enter the house, whether she wet herself while moving it or not, she stood up. In a matter of seconds her muscles seemed to give up the fight. It was as if a dam had broken! A flood of pee burst forth with great force and in one full and continuous flow! A warm wetness rushed down her legs, darkening her jeans and forming a yellowish puddle in the snow. She was sure she'd never urinated so much in her life. If she hadn't stopped soon, her back yard might have become one very large frozen pond!
She was much relieved, when her tank had fully emptied and-- looking down at herself-- she easily converted feelings of embarrassment into gratitude. She would have preferred the comforts of her warm bathroom, but decided that it was definitely better to have a puddle of frozen Brooke Pee on the patio as opposed to a mess of nastiness on the carpet of the hallway.
The extra warmth felt nice, at first, but her clothes soon started freezing to her skin. Before any icicles had a chance to form, she stripped off her soaked clothes, pushed the chair out of her way, and streaked upstairs. Desperately, she hoped to remain unseen. In her opinion, running into her father (while sporting nothing but her birthday suit) would have been quite disturbing. "No thanks!" she thought, quickly tip-toeing to her bathroom. "I have had enough excitement for one morning."
After tossing her dirty clothes into the tub, she rinsed them and herself off with soap and water. She then readied herself for bed, peeled out her hardened contacts, and jumped into her gloriously soft bed. "It's over," she sighed with relief.
The clock on her bedside table read 6:04 a.m.. It had been hours since she had said goodbye to her friends and headed home. As she lay there, wrapped in three fluffy comforters, her thoughts replayed all of the events of the night. She smiled as she remembered how God had heard and answered her prayers. She had been very blessed. And what a story she would have to tell, if ever she was to give a talk on the power of prayer!!! Closing her eyes, she could picture her frozen puddle of pee and it made her laugh. "Try and catch me complaining about cold toilet seats, ever again," she whispered to her pillow as she hugged it tight and slipped peacefully into a restful sleep.
The End.
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