For some reason, he was in a robo-cab terminal in Deep Nodlon. The streetlights were dimmed for the evening, though he was sure it was morning. His hands were grimy, and when he rubbed them on his overalls they were only greasier.
He had to wash his hands. He ducked into a men’s washroom. Trash brimmed over a can inside the door overflowing onto the floor.
Beside the trash can was a mirror. In the mirror was an elf wearing the overalls of a flyer mechanic. On his breast was a nametag but he could not read it. Around the corner, men came and went to the lavatory going in and out of an unseen entrance.
He tried to use a sink, but a hobo wearing a dingy sport coat and torn slacks butted him aside. Another man left a sink, and he tried to reach it first, but a toothless old man in a blue blazer beat him to it. Yielding, he backed away. Four men bathed in all four sinks.
“Excuse me,” he said.
None of the men heard, and they continued to wash.
The toothless old man finished washing, but he blocked Jack and let another old man in a sport coat use the sink. The toothless derelict walked away, and he followed.
Despite a limp, the derelict quickly led him through a door to a dwarf dressed in a black suit and shiny loafers. On the dwarf’s forehead was a black spot, and in his hands was a bowl of water.
The dwarf faced the terminal full of empty robo-cabs waiting for a fare. He stood with his back to a wall covered by a poster of a woman.
Though the woman covered the wall, Jack could not make out who it was.
Each derelict knelt in front of the dwarf and he poured a little water on his head. After the dwarf watered the head of the toothless one, the derelict went back into the washroom. Jack followed the derelict back to the sink and again tried to wash his hands.
A goblin dressed for a tennis match entered the washroom, and Jack wondered what he wanted to do.
The goblin walked directly up to him. “Would you like to wash your hands, Jack?”
“Yes,” he said. His voice echoed off the washroom walls.
“Then follow me,” said the goblin. Following the goblin out of the washroom, he found himself in an old fashioned movie theatre instead of the robo-cab terminal.
A burgundy curtain hung over the vid screen. Rows of scarlet seats with black leather armrests sat empty save for another goblin sitting in a middle row near the aisle.
He followed his host into the theatre. Amber nightlights guided them down the aisle. They stopped, and Jack saw that the other goblin was also dressed for a tennis match.
“My partner told me you want to wash your hands,” said the second goblin. “Is this true, Jack?”
“Yes,” he said.
The second goblin held out a clean white washrag. “This is for you,” he said. “Take it back to the washroom, and use it once. Leave it for the others. When you come back here, your movie will begin.”
Hating to get the washrag dirty, he picked it up between the tip of his index finger and his thumb.
Urgently, he walked swiftly up the aisle. When he pushed on the door to the lobby, he stepped back into the washroom.
Again, four men bathed in the four sinks. He held out his washrag, which reflected in the mirrors. A young man sporting a familiar blue blazer stepped aside and waved for him to take his turn.
He turned on the cold water and soaked his hands. He lathered them with a frothy mix, and rinsed them. Taking his washrag, he dried his clean hands.