volume one IN THE D U D L E Y C L A R K - Ohio Vine Tours

The man inside 28/RR took the bait!
And now, apparently, the result of Roy’s clever plan lies in
several pieces upon the hallway floor.
Could it be The Music?
His urinary urgency not altogether forgotten, Roy creaks
down on his knees and crawls about, scooping up the scattered
parts.
He is delighted to find they still fit together.
Roy holds the tape—his tape!—reverentially before his face,
and fairly close to his eyes. He squints at it in the dim light. It is
not labeled, but he’s pretty sure he knows what it is.
It’s The Music.
Suddenly remembering he is kneeling in the middle of the
hallway floor, and that his bladder is about to burst, Roy springs
to his feet.
The lightbulb in the B THRO M still drowses.
While there might never be a better time to slip inside the
B THRO M and do his business, Roy’s longing to take a listen to
what he holds in his hands trumps his leaning to take a leak.
He decides that a compromise of sorts might be possible.
Roy’s fingers fumble with the tape as he inserts it into its case,
as he betakes himself to his original destination.
In the distance, thunder rumbles. Even thick, ancient walls
such as these can’t completely keep out the World.
Roy creaks open the B THRO M door, slips inside, snicks the
lightswitch on, then settles his—yes, his!—tape onto the cast
iron corner sink and turns to face the oval of water resting in
the commode. The toilet is as old as the building. A wooden
waterbox affixed to the wall above it has a pull-chain for the
flusher.
The commode itself is a white ceramic flower with a chromed
stem in back, its petals opened to reveal its liquidy heart. Rust
streaks down to the water’s brown, crusty rim.
It is rumored as many as 17 million men in America suffer
from paruresis—the fear of peeing in public. By public is meant
bathroom urinals in public facilities. Or outdoors with a Boy
Scout Troop. Or off the ledge of a tall building. Or from a
speeding automobile.
ROY ROGERS IN THE 21ST CENTURY 11