Page 1 of Devour

One

Maeve

Ishit myself. I can’t believe I physically shit myself. This can’t be happening. Not sure if my eyes hurt from the stench that’s burning them, or if it’s tears of mortification. I’m fighting back, or because I’m squeezing them too tightly.

Please God, let this be a dream.The foul odor and wetness coating my thighs confirm that while I might not see the horrific scene, it is in fact happening. I’m living my worst nightmare.

Shit. Shit. Shit.Fucking literally shit. I’d really hoped I could make it in time to the bathroom, but it took everyone forever to get off the plane. Worse, I was trapped in the aisle, not able to go back to the bathroom or move forward. Just trapped in the tight space with my stomach rolling and violent cramps. Then the torture of waiting for the wheel chair, and the fact that I couldn’t leave my sweet granny until they brought it.

Now I’m in an airport bathroom with feces running down my legs and I have to be at The Red Château Casino and Resort for my cousin’s rehearsal dinner in three hours. This is quite possibly the worst day ever. My aunt is counting on me to makea speech. They told me to leave a day earlier, but I had work, and I promised everyone I’d make it here in plenty of time.

And look how that’s going.I shouldn’t have taken that “allergy medicine” my grandmother had given me. At least that’s what she told me it was for; the pills weren’t labelled and I’ve never had a reaction like this to any over the counter medicine before. A runny nose would’ve been better than runny…

“Maeve? You okay in there, Little Bit?” My sweet granny’s voice echoes through the bathroom.

“Yes, Gram. I’m…”Disgusting, but I’m good.“Good. I’m good.” I try to school my voice to keep the panic from seeping through.

“It smells horrid in here. You’d think they’d keep these airport bathrooms halfway clean.”

It’s me, Granny. It’s me.The odor that smells like it came from the depths of hell actually came from me. But I refuse to admit it out loud. The sweet airport employee who is assisting us since Gram’s is in a wheelchair remains silent, but I know she smells it too and knows it’s me. I should yell out that this isn’t the airport staff’s fault; they’re innocent. This bathroom was clean before I entered it. However, this secret will have to go with me to my grave.

“Do you know how often they clean the bathrooms?” she asks the nice lady.

The way she hesitates makes it clear thatshe knowsit’s me. “They do often, ma’am” is her response, and I can hear what she’s not saying. There’s only so much they can do when people like me come in shitting all over themselves.

I clean myself up the best I can. Thank goodness I packed wet wipes in my purse. There’s nothing I can do except ditch my panties. They’re ruined anyways. My dress is knee length, but I still feel very self-conscious being bare. I’ve never felt so dirty or ashamed. The only hope now is that there’s nothing left in me.

By the time we exit the restroom, the luggage is already making its rounds on the conveyer belt.Good.I can grab our luggage, pull out a pair of undies and sneak those on. Then I’ll call for a ride to the casino, which I pray isn’t far away, and I’ll shower and put on some fresh clothes, and everything will be fine.

Granny packed everything in her carry-on, so we only need to get my luggage, which should be easy to spot. I always tie a flashy red ribbon to it. A black suitcase slides down the ramp and then makes its way toward me. There’s no glittery red ribbon tied to the handle, but I still check in hopes that it’s mine. Negative. Another black one. No ribbon, yet I still check. Again, not mine. People keep walking away with luggage until there’s one lonely red suitcase making its rounds. A little lady comes over and before I can even offer to help, she hoists it up and walks away, pulling it behind her. There’s two other people standing in front of the conveyor belt. They share the same furrowed brow expression as me. The conveyer belt stops and a man in a neon vest walks out of a side door.

“Excuse me, sir?” A woman who has also been standing here walks up to him. “Is that all the luggage? Because mine didn’t come out.”

I rush over to them. “Same. Mine’s missing as well.”

The guy points behind us. “If your luggage isn’t here, it wasn’t on the plane. You need to go to the service desk. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.”

The man standing next to the conveyer belt groans loudly up at the ceiling. My thoughts exactly. My outfit for the dinner was in my luggage. Along with my dress for the wedding. Mypanties!I don’t know if I have time to go buy new ones, but I guess I’ll have to make time. The clock on my phone says I have three hours. This is Vegas. The casinos are almost like mini towns inside. I can do this.

The lady pushes Granny’s chair over to me, and Granny’s eyes sharpen on me. I’m completely calm – other than my chest palpitations and struggling to breathe. “Little Bit, what’s wrong? Hey, calm down.”

“I’m fine.” I’m so not having a panic attack because, again, I can do this.

“No. You’re really not.” Granny responds in a matter-of-fact tone.

The airport assistant pushing my grandmother gestures for me to get in line. “Right there is the line you need to be in if your luggage didn’t arrive.”

Luckily there’s only two people waiting. As I listen to the lady in front of me, I gather what information they’ll need from me when it’s my turn. To also save time, I use my app to send for a car to take us to the casino.

“Next,” a voice calls.

“Hi. Yes. I have the same issue as the previous person. My name is Maeve Goodman. I was on flight…” I waste no time in delivering all the information she had requested from the other weary traveler.

The woman on the other side of the plexiglass raises her hand to stop me. “Ma’am. While I appreciate your enthusiasm to provide me with all this information, I’m going to need you to slow down. Please wait for me to ask the questions.” She scolds me like an elementary teacher would a child.

I glance down at my phone. My rideshare driver is arriving in four minutes. I might’ve let my anxiety get the best of me and booked it too soon, but Ihaveto get to the resort with enough time to purchase clothes, shower, and make myself presentable.

“I’ve located your luggage. Looks like since your flight from Memphis to Dallas was delayed due to weather, your bags didn’t make it to your connecting flight. They’re going to put them on another flight. They’ll be here tomorrow.”

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