The Miracle of the Clogged Toilet

The toilet in the middle of the fifteen stalls was clogged. Jane plunged the brimming bowl, displacing water onto the faux-marble concrete floor, but could not clear the obstruction. At least the water was clear. But maintenance work was not what she expected to be doing five months into what she had been told was a promising entry-level position at JymCosmos.

“A plumb job, alright,” Jane muttered.

She placed a yellow English-Spanish Maintenance in Progress folding sign in front of the stall and left the women’s locker room to speak with her manager. The usually bustling locker room was oddly empty, even for a non-peak day and time.

The manager was at her desk, browsing a frenetic sportswear website.

Jane knocked on the open door. “Excuse me, Pauline, but we need a plumber.”

“Couldn’t resolve it?”

“No. But plumbing isn’t my expertise.”

Pauline navigated the screen.

“But speaking of expertise, I’d like to get on your schedule to discuss these tasks that really aren’t within my job description.”

Pauline sighed and turned to face Jane. “Your six-month appraisal is coming up. Let’s do a deep dive about your concern at that time. JymCosmos won’t succeed unless you do.”

“I agree. And I can’t succeed at what I’m good at when I’m not doing the things that I’m good at, as I described in my interview.”

During the interview, Pauline and one of the other managers extolled the employee-forward culture at JymCosmos, the variety of assignments, the opportunities for career growth for an aspiring fitness instructor. One question they asked—and which now stuck in Jane’s craw—was whether she had experience in leading group sessions. She answered enthusiastically. In high school, and at Wake Technical Community College where she earned an associate’s degree in sports management, she was a team lead for the two sports that she lettered in, lacrosse and tennis, and conducted intramural activities. Yes, she had gained a leadership skill that she could offer to JymCosmos and its clients. She referred to several published fitness-blog articles that she wrote about her experiences.

But she had not led any classes at JymCosmos, though she guided several clients individually in personal training. Retired men who seemed more interested in her than in her expertise, and who wanted an hour of companionship more than physical conditioning. One gentlemanly widower referred to their weekly session as a date. Jane was sympathetic. He was lonely, his old-school manners were charming, and there was nothing inappropriate about his behavior. But if it ever got inappropriate, the senior citizen would find himself on his back, staring up at the immense ceiling fans. Jane had excelled in a self-defense class; she could probably bench press the thin geezer.

Other than the personal training, most of her assignments had been menial: sorting sweat-soaked white towels in the laundry; sanitizing streaked equipment that clients had neglected to wipe; straightening the equipment. Unclogging toilets. Management wasn’t even using her for menial marketing or recruitment efforts.

“JymCosmos could make way better use of my skills, Pauline.”

“Yes, I know, you have all those fancy certifications. But, as team players, we all have to share the workload. I look forward to discussing all this with you soon. Until then, keep in mind that there is no ‘I’ in team.”

“What about a plumber?”

“You gave it your best effort?”

“One hundred and ten percent,” Jane chirped.

“I’ll contact a plumbing solutions service.”

Jane was surprised that Pauline agreed to her suggestion. She usually did not. Jane had learned that if she wanted Pauline to consider one of her ideas, she was more successful when she proposed its inverse.

Pauline switched tabs on her screen and pulled up the daily employee schedule. “I need you to wait for the plumber.”

“I could be more productive than waiting for a plumber, but alright. I get paid the same.”

Pauline smiled. “Now, Jane, if you want to advance, you have to remember that attitude, not aptitude, determines your altitude.” Her smartphone jingled, and she attended to the text message as if Jane were not there.

Jane assumed she was dismissed and left. “Attitude,” she mincingly muttered. She resigned herself to stick it out for another month until her appraisal. She could start a job search before then. But it had been only five months. Maybe it was her attitude that needed adjustment, that it was she, not they…

Jane should have gone out the back of the immense facility and jogged around to the entrance to wait outside for the plumber. For the Buffers—Buffers For Jesus, a co-ed exercise group sponsored by the Heaven on High megachurch—had commandeered the high-vaulted lobby. They held hands while thanking God for their health. It was one group that she could not lead. Nor did she want to. After a unanimous amen, the group split into chattering subgroups.

“If you’re done with the prayer service, clear the area,” one brawny patron griped as he zig-zagged through them.

“We’ll pray for you,” one of the women trilled. Keeping the Temple Trim was emblazoned in chartreuse on the back of her form-fitting pink T-shirt.

Jane struggled to maintain a pleasant demeanor as she excused herself through the dense flock. After all, they paid her salary. If she could do it unnoticed, she would have plugged her ears against the song that blared over the sound system. Some of the women swayed to the music and languidly waved their arms overhead as they sang along in breathless supplication:

And I will always praise you,
And I will always raise your name,
And I will always rejoice,
And I will always take the choice.

Jane got to the tall glass front doors and stood next to a display rack of fitness and diet magazines and brochures. The Buffers had finagled space in the rack for their material. She squinted against the harsh sunlight glinting off the shiny vehicles that were clustered together in the vast parking lot and those speeding up and down Falls of Neuse Parkway. During peak times, the lot was full. She bet herself that a majority of the parked vehicles bore Heaven on High bumper stickers.

The church exerted quite an influence at JymCosmos. They had persuaded management to program one hour of Christian rock in the mornings and afternoons. They reserved various rooms for Christian-themed workout sessions; though unsuccessful, they had tried to change the name of the Pilates room to something more Jesus-friendly. A Heaven on High minister in a purple track suit presided over the sessions and exhorted the Buffers with scripture that was recast as encouragement to push beyond their limits.

The Buffers frequently occupied the lobby despite complaints from other patrons and suggestions from several of the gym staff, Jane included. Management responded that the Buffers represented a significant percentage of gym membership and deference would be shown to them.

Jane soon developed a sharp headache; the numerous flashing tv screens throughout the lobby exacerbated it. She longed to sit in the shade of a kudzu-laced pine thicket at the far end of the parking lot. A moment later, she was relieved to see a utility van pull in and advance slowly to the building entrance.

Affixed to the side of the gray van was a tau cross made with a white pipe and a t-joint. Above the piping were the red words Jesus Pipes; underneath, a phone number and website address.

“Look at that sacrilege,” one of the Buffers behind Jane said.

Recognizing the familiar voice, Jane wished for him and the Buffers to please just go away. Luke’s ethereal reflection stood akimbo in the picture window… he who had told her that God guided him to JymCosmos for a purpose.

“Someone’s going to hear about that.” Luke pointed a ripped arm past Jane’s face at where the plumber had parked. Reflected in the window were several other leering Buffers.

The plumber hopped out of his van while chortling on his cellphone and swung open the back doors to collect his tools.

“Look at that clown,” Luke said.

Jane maneuvered through the throng blocking the front door and stepped into the summer heat and humidity to greet the tradesperson. It felt good to be outside.

He smiled at her as he concluded his call. “Si, si. Adios, compa.” He put his cellphone in his baggy white cotton workpants and extended his hand. “Buenos dias, señorita. I mean, good morning, miss.”

“Buenos dias, señor.” Jane shook hands and introduced herself.

“I am sorry for the lateness. Many calls today.”

Though he spoke English, Jane felt compelled to speak the basic conversational Spanish that she’d learned in school. “No es una problema.”

He smiled indulgently at her pronunciation.

Jane gestured for him to follow her. She shivered at the blast of cold air as they went inside; her green JymCosmos polo shirt felt like it had been dipped in ice water. As they started for the women’s locker room, a wedge of Buffers led by Luke blocked their way. He jutted his chin at the plumber’s forehead.

“Who do you think you are?” he asked him.

“The plumber.” He shook his tool bag. “Maybe you think Santa? Eh, Christmas in July? You be a good boy this year?”

“I meant your van.”

The plumber looked anxiously out the window. “Should I move, señorita?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine.” Luke took the plumber by his arm and pulled him to the window. Jesus Didn’t Tap Out was emblazoned in white on the back of his black T-shirt.

“Señor.” The plumber pulled his arm away.

Luke jabbed a forefinger on the windowpane. “Those words on your van. And the cross. How dare you?”

“Not cross, PVC. And words are my name.”

“Why would you pick that for a company name?”

“No, is my name.”

“Well, why don’t you change your name? You’re not south of dee border, Speedy.”

“What name?”

“Your first name, what else would I be talking about?”

“I don’t know. But I mean, change to what name?”

“How about Jose. That would fit. It’d be a lot better than Jesus.”

“You call me Jose. Okay?” He chuckled. “Jose Okay. Good name.”

“Yeah, Jose Pipes. But that can’t be your last name.”

“Oh, jes. But say like: Pee-pehs. Hay-soos Pee-pehs. But you call me Ho-say, ho-kay? Or Joe, if easy for you.”

Jane suppressed a smile.

Chagrined, Luke looked around. The Buffers expected more from his umbrage; one of them was recording. “Yeah, well, you need to learn how we do things here so you don’t give people the wrong idea.”

“Was not my idea. But si, each day is for to learn something new. Do something new. Even if little thing, little step.”

Jane felt she should stick up for Jesus, if it wouldn’t be condescending; he was holding his own and didn’t need protection. Besides, she was considering what he had said.

“Start by learning English.”

“Each day, I learn Inglés. Took long time to say th.”

“Een-glace! It’s Een-glish! Een-glish!”

Jane rubbed her temple as a song that duplicated the previous song started. “Thank you for the speech lesson, but we have a problem that needs our attention.”

Luke pinched her name tag and moved his lips as he silently read.

Jane pushed his hand away and stepped back. “I won’t thank you to keep your hands off.”

“So, you’re one of the ones who’ve been complaining about our mission.”

“Yes, we’ve met.”

His face lit up. “Well, the problem is right here, Miss Trainer Associate.”

Jesus looked about. “I don’t see toilet.”

Luke smirked at him and said to Jane, “I can show you a solution to your problem.”

“Tell her, Luke,” one of the congregants exhorted. The rest of them encircled Jesus and Jane with smiling benign faces and aggressive gleams in their eyes.

“Done a lot of plumbing, have you?” Jane asked.

“That’s not what I meant.” Luke changed the timbre of his voice as if he were in a pulpit. “Join us. You only need to put yourself aside to save yourself.”

“I’m working, and the only thing I’m interested in saving is my job—”

“Working,” Luke scoffed.

“And we’ve wasted enough time.”

“I have other toilets to save today. And time, it is money. Plumbers happy to espend time, but customers not happy to espend money.”

“Por aquí,” Jane said.

“Oooo, she speaks Spanish.”

“I find, no problem.” Jesus winked at Jane. “I read the signs.” He glanced at the Buffers crowding them. “And your face. Better you show me.”

“Go ahead,” Luke taunted. “We’ll be right behind you.”

“No, you’ve had enough fun. Leave Jesus to his work.”

Jesus looked up firmly at Luke while he said to Jane, “You call, señorita, I come quickly.” He turned to the phalanx. “Ay de mí! Is easier for camel to enter the needle.”

Luke spread his arms for a path to be cleared and sneered at Jesus as he bustled toward the locker rooms with his clattering tool bag. “Dee time, it is dee money.”

The Buffers closest to them giggled. The one recording pinched his nose. “See seenyor!”

“Wasting time,” Luke challenged Jane. “It is you who is wasting an offer of eternal life. You could be a part of those who count.”

“Calories?”

“Aren’t you clever.”

She could’ve said the same right back at Luke, with all his pithy platitudes, but didn’t want to relive grade-school disputes. I’m rubber, you’re glue! “This isn’t about salvation, is it? It never is, with you.”

Luke stood squarely in front of her. “What are you going to do about it?”

Jane felt that the Buffers wouldn’t restrain her, but she felt trapped by them and the incantatory music. She was about to employ the question-mark dodge used in lacrosse to extricate herself when she saw Pauline appear at the head of a corridor leading to the lobby. She was smiling and seemed interested in the gathering until she saw Jane raise her hand to get her attention. She scowled as she reluctantly approached.

“Yes, Jane,” Pauline said wearily. “What is it now?” She stood with Luke.

“Since we’re all here on the same page,” Jane parroted, “why not leverage this opportunity to break down the silos on this gating factor of congregating in the lobby.”

Pauline and Luke looked at each other.

“Now, Jane, as it’s been explained to you, there’s been closure on this non-issue, and you need to get on board.”

“I’m just suggesting that we proactively think outside the box, get outside of our comfort zones.”

“No, the special relationship between JymCosmos and Heaven on High will be respected.”

Amens welled up among the Buffers.

“Amen, indeed.” Pauline turned to Luke. “I have a hard-stop at this time, but I calendared our meeting for Friday at ten. Does that work for you?”

“Yes, bless you,” he said earnestly. “I know how tight your schedule is.”

Pauline nodded, and waved goodbye to the assembly. “Nice to see everyone.”

“I thought you’d want to know that the plumber arrived,” Jane said. “If your schedule isn’t too tight.”

“Problem fixed?”

“Soon.”

“Soon? So we are not good to go, are we?”

Pauline’s snappy voice poked Jane’s headache. “We are not, but I am.”

Pauline raised her eyebrows. “Well, report to me when it’s fixed.”

Luke smiled at Jane after Pauline left. “You can’t do anything about it, señorita.”

“Can’t I?”

“But we’ll have a prayer circle for you.” Luke prompted the Buffers to hold hands and loudly led them in a prayer to give Jane the strength to change.

“I think it’s working!” she exclaimed.

“Hija, ven aquí, por favor,” Jesus called above the prayer and the song.

Jane broke free.

The Buffers remained, enraptured as they chanted along with the song.

“I cho you something,” Jesus said.

He had collapsed the maintenance-in-progress sign and placed it adjacent to the locker room door. He stood beside it and held up a powder-blue T-shirt with latex-gloved hands.

“Look.” The damp shirt appeared to be size XL: on the front was written, Yes, it is a miracle! and on the back, For Christ is my Coach! “How did it get in the toilet?” Jesus mused.

“I don’t know, but it looks familiar.”

“Too large for women, unless very big women.”

“Or some big man…”

“Many around this place.” Jesus looked at the slogan. “A miracle, but maybe not a good one.” He folded the T-shirt and draped it over the sign. “Eh, Jane, something not right here.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. But what did I do?”

“Confirmed my thoughts. Like the way they treated you. Why do you accept it? They’re not your customers like they are mine.”

“I don’t bother with them. I have bigger thoughts to have.” He smiled. “I have the right name to accept it, don’t you think?”

Jane smiled. “I don’t think a name change would help me.”

Jesus picked up a can of 3-in-One and the plumbing snake that lay curled at his soggy sneakers and put them in his tool bag.

“Sorry about your shoes.”

“Sometimes I have to estand in water.” He snapped off the gloves and tossed them in the bag, and took out an EzBilr to calculate the bill. “Now you confirm, please.”

Jane read the work order and pressed OK. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

“I know the way. You go talk to your boss, see if this miracle is on security camera.”

They shook hands, both saying that they’d enjoyed meeting each other. Jesus started down the corridor. “Oh, I think the plunger belong to the gym. Is not mine. Hasta la vista, baby.”

Jane hefted the plunger. She’d never considered how versatile a tool it was. She picked up the T-shirt with her free hand and left the locker room to report to Pauline. Someone else could mop the floor.

“Eeewww!” one of the Buffers squealed when Jane entered the still-crowded lobby.

Luke stood in her way. “Well! The seniorita has found her calling!”

Jane flung the T-shirt in his face. “You’ll want to discuss that with Pauline at your meeting.”

“Luke!” one of the Buffers declared as he spluttered. “Isn’t that—”

Jane brandished the plunger to part the fold, and strode to Pauline’s office to report the plumbing fix and the potential security issue posed by the presence of an extra-large T-shirt in the women’s locker room. She expected a token acknowledgement for a completed task, but Pauline curled her lips as she stared at the plunger.

“No, don’t thank me,” Jane said. “It was nothing, really. Thank God for Jesus.”

“What are you talking about? And why are you parading around with that thing?”

“It comes in handy for clearing all kinds of obstructions.” Jane gripped the handle with both hands and stuck the plunger on Pauline’s pristine desk with a loud shlop. The handle wobbled as Jane said to an aghast Pauline, “Like this job.”

To avoid the Buffers, Jane exited the complex through a back entrance to the outside, where it felt good to be and where her headache was gone.