Jingle all the Mitchell Way: a holiday novella(28)

Two officers stood with flashlights, looking us up and down and checking the registration. “Do you know the fine for dumping waste?”

“Dumping waste? No, sir.”

“Are you aware that for three miles human waste had been leaking from your motorhome?”

“It’s dark, officer. We weren’t aware.”

He handed me back my information. “Are you also aware of the ban on tailgate ornaments such as the one you have on your motorhome?”

Jax chuckled. I knew he couldn’t help it. Our dad’s dangling testicles were still on the hitch of the RV. “Sir, with all due respect. They aren’t even my balls. They’re my dad’s. He put them on as a joke.”

Jax couldn’t contain himself. The laughing got so bad he had to explain. “I’m sorry. They really aren’t his balls though.”

The officers looked to one another and then back to us. “Have you been drinking, Mr. Mitchell?” He asked me.

“No, sir. I’ve been driving all day.”

“Would you be okay with taking a sobriety test?”

“Yeah, of course.” The officer went to his cruiser, only to come back with a device I had to blow in. Low and behold it proved I hadn’t been drinking.

“Have you been using drugs tonight?”

“Officer, I’m driving my family around. There are two sleeping toddlers in the RV. I wouldn’t do something so careless.”

“Careless like spraying your shit all over the roads?” The one officer questioned.

He shone his light on the front of the cruiser. It was covered in brown toilet paper, some stuck in the wipers.

“Oh shit,” escaped Jax.

“Oh shit is right. I want to know which one of you is responsible for this? Someone is getting a ticket tonight.”

“Can’t you just fine us for the balls?” I asked.

One officer headed back to the shit stained cruiser. I could tell he was on his computer, probably writing me up for the waste. When he returned he handed me two pieces of paper. One was a ticket for littering. The next was a ticket for the tailgate ornament. “I don’t care whose balls they belong to. Take them off, before you pull away.”

My brother was heaving, fighting to keep the vomit from projecting out of his mouth. “You can have them, officer. Just take the testicles. Our dad doesn’t even need them.” Jax kept on. “We’re sorry for the mess. We didn’t know the valve was open. Maybe it’s broken.”

“I suggest you get it checked out. In the meantime, I’d use the restroom elsewhere. You can pay the fines online. I’d appreciate it if you made sure the value is closed before you leave this spot. Have a good night folks.” The cop was gagging, finally hunching over to puke all over the road.

I shoved Jax as soon as they pulled away. “Asshole. Isn’t that considered waste too? Why does he get to upchuck, but I’m not allowed to dump shit? They could have arrested me, you know.”

“For what? How could they prove it wasn’t an accident?” He kept laughing. “Dude, did you see their car? It’s going to take them forever to clean that shit off. I wonder how many cars we got? This is epic.”

“It’s disgusting,” Amber added. Can we go now? It smells horrible, and I’m about to get sick.” She covered her mouth and continued heaving until finally it shot out like you see on movies.

I turned back to Jax, while holding up the tickets. “You’re helping me pay for these.”

He was doing his best not to get sick while watching Amber. “Whatever. It’s worth the money to have this story to tell. As far as dad’s nuts. Let him pay that one.”

“Good idea. Now, go tend to your wife. She’s in need of a rag or something. No puke allowed in the motorhome.”



After making sure the valve was shut, and catching some fresh air so we could breathe, we found a new parking spot away from the mess and planned on resting for the night. Since the smell still hadn’t left the bathroom, we opened a window and promised to use the facilities in the building instead of the RV, at least until morning. Of course, I’d be the one who had to go to the bathroom first.

I walked outside into the cold and headed toward the bathroom. From the second I walked inside I knew something was off. Sounds resonating from the furthest stall were not just from one person. I tried my best to pee without overthinking things. Surely it wasn’t my business what was going on in the men’s lavatory, but curiosity killed the cat. I finished what I was doing and bent down to look for feet. Sure enough, two black sets of boots were facing the same direction. I didn’t wash my hands or flush the urinal. Instead, I hauled ass back to the RV and sat in the driver’s seat, my eyes fixed on the restroom entrance. Jax came up beside me. “What’s up with you?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Remind me to wash my hands when I get up.”

“Dude, what is going on? Did you murder someone? I read somewhere a rest stop was a good place to kill someone because it’s a random act.”

“Shut up, Jax. I didn’t kill anyone. I just want to see something.”

Nearly ten minutes later I saw two men walking out of the men’s restroom. “Holy shit! Just as I suspected. I knew they were police issued boots. Those dudes were packing fudge. Those cops that pulled us over are lovers. I heard them getting it on.”