Enter the Janitor (The Cleaners) (Volume 1) (5 page)

Chapter Five

Ben pushed his squeaky-wheeled cart out of the elevator and into the underground lot of HQ’s office complex. Dani walked by his side, her gaze darting to every dark corner as if checking for monsters.

They ambled between rows of identical white vans until they came across one which might’ve been white in a previous lifetime. Mud splatters, rust, and flaking paint covered the paneling, and it wouldn’t have looked out of place on someone’s front lawn alongside plastic flamingos and beer cans.

Dani stared at it in faint horror. “I thought we were supposed to maintain a clean image.”

He patted the side. “Mebbe all the rest like to waste time sprayin’ their vans down every time it gets a speck of dust on the bumper. Me? So long as it gets me where I gotta go, it’s all the fancy-shmancy wheels I need.”

“Still, shouldn’t you take better of your company car?” she asked. “I mean, that thing looks half-fossilized. What’s Francis’ ride? A white stretch limo?”

“When you reach his level, limos are beneath you,” Ben said. “So unless your new powers include teleportation, you’re gonna just have to enjoy the ride.”

She stood back as Ben slid the van’s side door open. It rattled aside to reveal built-in metal shelving that held all manner of buckets, cleaning fluid, bottles, extra mops, bundles of rags, and other cleaning paraphernalia. A regular janitorial treasure chest.

She perked up. “Got any gloves in there?”

He scrounged across one shelf until he came up with a pair of yellow rubber gloves and tossed them her way. As she tugged them on, he levered the cart into an open space at the back and locked the wheels in place.

“Why janitors?”

He glanced back. “Eh?”

“Why janitors?” Dani repeated. “If the Cleaners are some big magical society, why not act like it? Why hide behind this corporate front? Wouldn’t it be better to take on an image people respect more? Like law enforcement. Or superheroes.”

“First off, you really wanna go ’round wearin’ tights and capes? Or seein’ me in ’em?” He chuckled at her grimace. “Second off, if you think about it, janitors, maids, plumbers … all sortsa cleanin’ folks have been keepin’ the world from turnin’ into one big ball of mud since people started figurin’ out that sleepin’ in their own filth ain’t exactly the brightest idea. Mebbe politicians and military folk look like they’re the ones with all the say-so, but we’re the ones that keep things runnin’ from the ground up, whether they know it or not.”

“Still, isn’t it a little on the low end of the totem pole?”

“If you look hard enough, there’s plenty to be proud of.” He grinned. “You just gotta think like a janitor.”

“I wasn’t aware janitors did much thinking.”

“That sorta mindset is gonna get you in a lotta trouble.”

He rummaged around the shelves until he came up with a dusty-brown cleaning jumpsuit which zippered up the front, and a pair of black rubber boots. These he handed to Dani. “Get changed.”

She held the suit doubtfully. “These are way too big for me. And I am not changing clothes in a garage.”

“Fine. But that piece you’re wearin’ right now dissolves if taken outta HQ, so I guess you’re ridin’ shotgun nekkid.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re joking. I know you are.”

An engine started in the distance as they stared each other down.

At last, her glare turned pleading. “Please say you’re joking.” When he remained silent, she stalked around to the other side of the van, calling out, “You try to peek and I’ll break your nose.”

Ben waited as groans of disgust and shuffling evidenced her attempts to change without falling over. A squeak of surprise was followed by Dani running back around, now wearing a hot pink jumpsuit. She plucked at the waistband and arms, which were just loose enough to give her free range of motion. Otherwise it fit perfectly.

“This thing shrunk! And changed color!”

“One size fits all ’round here.”

She craned her neck to study the outfit from all sides. “But why pink?”

“It switches to the wearer’s favorite color.”

“I don’t like pink.”

“Accordin’ to the suit, you like it a lot.”

“How do I change it?”

He briefly shut his eyes. When he opened them again, his dusty blue jumpsuit had turned forest green. “Just a mental command. ’Course if you get too distracted or knocked unconscious, it’ll revert back. Pink’s nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

She scrunched her eyes in concentration, and her outfit flickered between silver, cherry, and black before settling on tan. After confirming the absence of pink, she smoothed it down. “It do anything else?”

He pointed to her left shoulder, where red threading had appeared, reading:
Dani
. “Cleaner uniforms are also self-sanitizin’. You could dunk it in a septic tank and it’d be spotless half an hour later.”

She looked down in new admiration. “Better than magic armor.”

“Plus, it’s fire retardant and will keep blot-hound puke and other Scum fluids from dissolvin’ your skin if you get hit. And the uniforms help us blend in wherever we’re workin’.”

“Blend?”

“Yup,” he said. “Who pays attention to a janitor or two? We’re everywhere. Hospitals, malls, office buildings, schools.”

“To fight the forces of Corruption,” she said. “Scum?”

“Oh, good. You’ve been takin’ notes.”

Ben opened the passenger door and looked to her. She stared at the seat and remained unmoving. Finally he waved and made a mocking bow.

“Well? In you go. Chivalry ain’t my strong suit, so take it when you can get it.”

She darted to the back and grabbed a clean cloth and bottle of cleaning fluid. She attacked the seat with these until the faux-leather gleamed. Only then did she deign to slip inside and perch herself on the cushion.

Ben muttered to himself as he got in on the driver’s side. She sat hunched in her seat, boots tucked up in a full-body cringe.

This won’t be no joy ride, that’s for sure.

The afternoon Denver sun slanted between the skyscrapers as he navigated the van out of the garage and through the flow of businessmen, tourists, joggers and bikers along the sidewalk.

Astonishment wiped away some of Dani’s pensive expression. “We’re still in the city?”

“Where’d you think HQ was? The Twilight Zone?”

Her scowl returned. “As if that’d be any weirder than what I’ve experienced so far.”

“Think of this as an education on how the world really works.”

“My world was working just fine,” Dani said. “One more year and I’d be heading to med school to become a doctor. And now I’m stuck in some smelly van with an old fart for a boss instead of in my dorm, feeding my lizard and learning things that won’t give me nightmares. I bet I’m stewing in germs just sitting here.”

He straightened, making his neck, shoulders, and spine pop. “A’ight, this is what I don’t get, princess. You have these big dreams about bein’ a doctor, bein’ up to your armpits in sick folk and tellin’ people to turn and cough, yet you can’t handle a little dirt?”

“Not all doctors deal with patients,” she said. “I figured I’d go into research. Lab work where everything’s sealed up behind glass. Where I could fight germs from a distance.”

“And what makes you hate germs so much, huh? You get bullied by one when you was a kid?”

Her gloves squeaked as she made fists. “They’re just … wrong. They get inside you. Invade you. They make you dirty on a cellular level. Make you sick and broken, unless you do everything you can to protect yourself. It’s all so messy.”

Ben’s right arm started itching, but he clamped his hands on the steering wheel. “Life is messy. People are alive; escrow, people are messy.”

“You mean
ergo
.”

“Whatever. The point is, the more people, the more mess.”

“But we don’t let things stay messy, do we?”

“’Course not. But you don’t gotta go all ninja on a germ and kill it and its whole extended family. Sometimes fightin’ Corruption is as simple as not lettin’ it get a big foothold in the first place. Preventative maintenance.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“Then you ain’t listenin’. This ain’t no cakewalk. You’re gonna sweat and bleed and curse your parents’ first kiss—and that’s just while pickin’ litter off a sidewalk. And in the rare instances where people are keeping tidy, there’s plenty of Scum happy to chuck muck around. It’s our job to keep things as clean as possible and help the innocent folks go on livin’ without bein’ overwhelmed by the mess.”

She stiffened. “Oh my ***. I just realized this explains things.”

“What does?”

“This! All of this. It explains everything about me! Why I’ve always hated dirt and germs. It’s because they really are evil.”

“Er. No.” He tapped the side of his head. “That’s just you bein’ a little off your rocker.”

“But—”

“It’s complicated. Don’t start slappin’ labels like good and evil on everything just yet. It’s not that tidy.”

He changed lanes, heading for the next off-ramp. Dani looked around.

“Where are we going?”

“I wasn’t kiddin’ earlier. We gotta clean some mall bathrooms.”

“That’s disgusting. I’m not doing that.”

He grinned. “Oh, you will.”

They endured a silent ride south to the Park Meadows Mall. With its mingling of large wooden beams, huge windows, and trees planted all around the main entrances, it looked like someone had pumped a mountain cabin full of steroids and then plastered it with chain logos.

Dani perked up as they drove past the entrance to the food court. “I’m starving.”

“There’s some leftover tacos in the glove compartment. Welcome to ’em.”

“Okay. Not hungry anymore.”

“Wimp. Well, if you ain’t gonna, then pass them over.”

She hesitated until he waved for the food. With a look of incredulous disgust, she popped the glove case open and pulled out two tacos. Even with the rubber gloves on, she pinched each between thumb and forefinger and tossed them into his lap.

He unwrapped them with one hand and crunched down on the stale shells and a mash of cheese, sour cream, wilted lettuce, and mystery meat. She leaned away as he wolfed the tacos down, spraying crumbs. By the time the last bite plopped into his gullet, she clutched her stomach as if sick.

“I can’t believe you just ate those.”

He patted his paunch and belched. “Builds up the ol’ immune system.”

She covered her mouth and nose. “When was the last time you brushed your teeth?”

“Wednesday.”

“Of which month?”

“That’s personal.”

He pulled around the back of the mall and parked by a series of trash bins and employee entrances. Ben muscled his cart free and, after locking up the van, wheeled it to the nearest door. Dani trailed behind as if dragged by a leash.

He shoved the cart into a long white-tiled, gray-walled corridor that ran along behind the stores. The air-conditioned hallway smelled of pine and each step or squeak of the cart wheels echoed loudly. They passed by several mall staff who didn’t give them a second glance.

He took them down a side hall, past vending machines and water fountains, and toward the restrooms at the far end. Being the middle of the week, only a few shoppers were present—mothers with strollers, elderly mall walkers, and the occasional security guard on a Segway.

“I don’t get it,” Dani said, breaking the long silence. “You say good and evil don’t apply, but aren’t these Scum the bad guys?”

Ben whistled low through his teeth. “It’s the name the Board slaps on anyone or anythin’ that draws their power from Corruption.” He unhooked a yellow plastic
Closed for Cleaning
sign from the side of the cart and set it up in front of the men’s restroom. “Then you’ve got your more neutral factions who just don’t care much about our fleshy realm. Interdimensional travelers who come through their portals and don’t wipe their feet, trackin’ existential muck across my clean tiles. Imps leavin’ coffee stains everywhere …”

Her expression went deadpan. “Coffee.”

“Yeah. Never give an imp coffee unless you wanna be scrapin’ gooey bits off the ceiling for a week.”

Ben handed her a bucket with a bottle of Clorox in it, plus a bristled toilet scrubber, and took her to the first stall.

“Corruption and Purity are in a bit of a balance right now. We just gotta keep things from tippin’ too far in Corruption’s favor. So …” He gestured to the waiting stall.

Her face scrunched. “But toilets? Isn’t that a bit undignified?”

“Stop stallin’ and get a-scrubbin’.” He smiled slightly. “’Sides, I ain’t doin’ it just to play the cruel taskmaster. You’ve been through a lot, and it helps the mind process things if the body is distracted with some good ol’ manual labor.”

With a groan, Dani shuffled into the stall. Standing back as far as possible, holding the handle by the tip, she half-heartedly ran the brush around the bowl. As Ben watched, the itching in his right arm flared up again. He sucked a breath in, loud enough to make Dani look over her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

He clutched the arm close and turned away. “Nothin’. I just forgot somethin’ in the van. I’ll be right back.”

O O O

Dani peeked out of the stall as Ben headed out. Why’d he hold his arm that way? An old injury? She’d have to ask about that.

Once the janitor’s footsteps receded, she turned back to stare at the toilet as if it were her arch-nemesis. For most of her life, the bathroom had been enemy territory. She’d had to sneak in, using wipes and gel and gloves to fight her way through if she had any hope of coming out unscathed.

Was she going to let those old fears rule her still? Here she stood, empowered, protected more than ever before against filth, and she still balked at the idea of even coming into this place without a full decontamination routine.

She had to start somewhere. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but she could at least enjoy a bit of revenge against something that had kept her living in fear for so many years.

Spreading her feet, she took up a defiant stance.

We meet again, Monsieur Toilet. Except this time, it seems I have you at a disadvantage.

She raised the brush and started whacking the toilet all over. Muted thuds filled the restroom, and she grunted with each connection, chanting to herself.