Jon’s eyes fluttered open. Voices and odd noises could be heard in the
distance. To Jon they sounded muffled as if he were listening to something
through thick layers of cotton. Slowly
turning his head to the right, Jon noticed tiny jewels of glass glittering all
around him. Athletic trophies lay
toppled one on top of the other on the floor.
His back was wet and the floor glistened like the perfectly calm surface
of a golden, sun-drenched lake. Jon closed his eyes and shook his head slightly
to clear the cobwebs. When he opened
them a man’s face was peering into Jon’s eyes calling his name. His voice
slowly cleared, as if the Doppler Effect through cotton was getting closer, but
he still couldn’t quite ascertain who it was or where he was. A few seconds ticked by and then Jon’s mind
put the pieces together as he recognized Red, the local paramedic. But why was he here? And why was Jon on his back? Suddenly, like
an air horn blast of reality, Jon remembered what had happened!
It all started about an hour before when
Jon had started stripping the hallway near the gyms. It was winter break, a time to get extra
stuff done. Stripping floors was one
project on his list of things to do and today was a great day to accomplish
this since no one was in the building.
He’d arrived at 6:30 a.m. and had his morning coffee. After stretching and checking his e-mails,
Jon began the task of setting up to strip the hallway that passed by the gym
and locker rooms. The first thing to do
was get his equipment organized and mix his chemicals.
Jon gathered his equipment together. He checked his mental list. Broom, dustpan, dust mop, mop bucket and mop
to lay the stripping solution, concentrated stripping solution, another mop
bucket and mop and clear water for the rinse, a floor scrubber, stripping pads,
the Doodlebug for the edges and corners, a scraper, rags, wet vac, hoses and
wand, floor finish, microfiber floor finish pad and handle and his coffee.
First, Jon packed all his equipment, minus
the mop bucket and stripping solution, to the hallway downstairs. He was headed for the elevator to take
everything downstairs when he stopped, thought about his previous fiasco with
that dreaded lift and decided to just carry things down the stairs. Most of the equipment was no problem; brooms,
buckets and so on. To get the floor
scrubber and wet vac downstairs took a little more finagling. He carefully rolled the scrubber forward and
gently let it drop over the edge of the steps one at a time. As the floor scrubber dropped step-by-step
down the front of each riser to each tread below, Jon gave a sigh of relief as
he neared the bottom of the staircase.
Reaching the bottom Jon exhaled.
He’d made it without a mishap. He
turned to walk back up the steps to fill his stripping solution and
tripped. He caught himself with the
handrail, but not before ripping a small hole in the front of his shoe.
“Not again!” Jon cried out looking at his
sneakers. “I can’t believe this. These shoes are only a few weeks old.”
Jon muttered under his breath as he
carefully made his way back upstairs shaking his head in disgust at himself.
Getting back to the custodial closet, Jon
carefully read the mix ratio on the concentrated stripping solution jug. It
said for heavy build up it should be mixed at the rate of 1:8. That meant mixing 16 ounces of chemical per
gallon of water. Jon was tired that
morning and his brain failed to get into gear.
Doing the math in his head, Jon forgot how many ounces were in a gallon
of water, which is 128. Thus, when he
divided to ascertain the amount of solution, he divided eight into 64 ounces
now giving him a solution of 1:4, twice the appropriate amount. Jon carefully poured the stripping chemical
into his bucket. He wore goggles as part
of his PPE and within minutes was ready.
The mop bucket water sparkled with a beautiful yellow hue. Jon thought it was odd as he’d never seen it this
yellow before, but he figured the chemical must have been newer and thus a
brighter color. Jon headed back to the lower
gym hallway with his bucket of stripping solution in tow.
Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Jon
brought the mop bucket of solution to a stop lest it should tumble over the
edge creating a beautiful yellow waterfall down the stairs. Flexing his back muscles, Jon hefted the
bucket up and carefully stepped one step at a time down the stairs. With each step the solution in the bucket
sloshed and rolled back and forth barely coming to the edge of each side before
going back down and starting over again.
Sweat dripped off of Jon’s head and he maneuvered himself carefully down
the stairs until he arrived at the bottom hallway. Upon reaching this point without having
spilled a single drop, Jon carefully set the mop bucket down and heaved a sigh
of relief. He leaned over and stretched
his back and then straightened doing the same.
Twisting his head back and forth he popped the kinks out of his neck and
loosened his muscles. It was time to get
to work.
First, Jon swept the hallway making sure
there was no debris or dirt to make his job more difficult. Next he took his mop bucket of stripping
solution and an old mop and dunked it into the golden liquid. Having thoroughly saturated the mop head, Jon
removed the mop and flooded the floor with stripper. He knew better than to put the solution on
the entire hallway as it would chemically loosen and soften the old wax
creating a skate rink and then would quickly begin to dry much sooner than he’d
be able to remove it. Thus, he worked in
small areas, maybe 20’ x 20’ at a time.
Using the walls, doors, lines on the floor and other objects around him
as markers and reference points, Jon was able to divide the hallway into
several neat sections. He was starting
on the first section near the bottom of the stairs.
While the stripping solution began to soften
the years of wax buildup, Jon prepared his tools. He plugged in his scrubber, put his black
stripping pad on the floor, plugged in the wet vac and so on. He then used his Doodlebug to scrub all the
edges by hand and also used the scraper in corners and other areas where the
wax was built up thicker and needed more work. As he walked on the stripping
solution performing these tasks, he noticed how slippery the floor actually
was. Man
this seems more slippery than before, Jon thought to himself. I’d
better be extra careful.
Jon finished the edges
and prepared to start the big task of using the scrubber to remove the old
softened wax. Starting with his feet on
the dry floor but his machine sitting on the edge of the stripper-laden floor,
Jon squeezed the start lever while pressing the safety release at the same
time. The old floor machine clicked and
hummed to life. Adjusting the handle against
his body to keep the balance correct, Jon slowly began to swing the machine
back and forth as old wax, water and chemicals gently sprayed a small stream of
liquid just above the floors surface in a neat circular pattern. Walking on the areas he had already scrubbed
allowed him a good measure of traction.
It was no longer slippery in those areas as the old wax had been
removed. As long as he was able to
continue to walk behind his machine and on the scrubbed portions of the hallway
he would be fine. Things continued on
smoothly until Jon had to turn his machine to scrub in another direction. This move forced him to step into an area of
floor which had yet to be stripped.
As Jon turned, his feet came in contact
with the chemically induced skate rink.
The old wax was now thoroughly softened and ready to be removed but the
floor was also more slippery than a sheet of ice. And because Jon had mixed the stripping solution
incorrectly, he was standing not just on softened wax but also on unused
stripping chemical which is very slippery in itself. Jon’s feet slid. Immediately Jon’s brain compensated for the
inequities in his balance and he was able to stay upright, although he wobbled
quite a bit as if he were just learning to walk. Jon continued to hold onto the scrubber as
its 1000 rpm disc of destruction spun underneath removing old wax. Jon carefully walked/slid/shuffled behind the
scrubber attempting to keep his balance so as not to slip and fall on his
butt. Not only would that hurt, but he
would also end up with stripper soaked pants which, when coming into contact
with his skin would burn. Carefully Jon
worked his way toward the dry part of the hallway where he could step off onto
dry floor and retain his balance.
As Jon neared the bottom step of the
staircase, the scrubber bumped the riser and Jon’s feet slipped. First he fell forward. Hanging on tightly to
the scrubber Jon righted himself but then immediately slipped and went
backward. Again he caught himself but
the power of the scrubber and his forward momentum turned him into an indoor
skier. The scrubber bumped the riser
again and jolted forward into solution which had not yet been scrubbed. It was slicker than snot. Jon’s arms extended forward as he held on
tightly to the machine. He didn’t dare
let go or the machine would end up spinning out of control like a fly with only
one wing. Then he would plow into the
walls and the machine could effectively smash into Jon like a boxer on
crack. He would also go flying backward
into whatever surface he was near. As he
held tightly, the machine took off down the edge of the wall. By now, Jon’s feet were no longer
walking. He was basically water-skiing
in stripping solution in the hallway.
Stripping solution rolled up in small waves just in front of his shoes
creating a tiny wake behind them. The
solution was so slick because of the wrong mixture Jon had mixed that stopping
was almost impossible. Jon picked up
speed. The wave in front of his shoes
grew and then began to pour in through the hole that he had torn in it
earlier. Jon’s right toe began to burn. Sweat beaded up on his forehead and his foot
got hotter and hotter. The more liquid
that poured into his shoe, the more his sock acted like a sponge and just
sucked the solution all the way around his entire foot via capillary action.
Jon’s face was just millimeters from the
wall as he whizzed along it trying to stop the scrubber. Stripper sprayed in a beautiful yellow arc
around his shoes and his right shoe got bigger and bigger and it filled with
old wax, water and stripping solution.
Jon’s head whipped back and forth as he quickly tried to decide what to
do. Four feet ahead of him lay dry
floor. Once he hit that the machine
would not slide as easily and he should be able to stop it. Jon’s head bounced off a picture frame
hanging on the wall. Stars filled his
vision and wonderful colors like the Aurora Borealis filled his mind. The scrubber hit dry floor.
Jon’s forward momentum instantly went from
high speed to almost nil. It wasn’t a
complete stop, but the sudden decrease in acceleration was enough to throw him
forward and over the handle of the scrubber.
Jon flipped and flopped. His left
leg caught the handle of the scrubber and in so doing snagged the lever. Since he was twisted as he flipped, not only
did his pant leg catch the lever, but it also activated the safety button. The scrubber roared to life.
Jon’s hands flailed forward as he was
flung into the wall. The scrubber with
Jon’s legs over the handle and his head and torso laying across the motor began
to spin. Jon bounced off the wall a few
times before the weight and momentum pushed him into the middle of the
hallway. The machine drifted back into
stripping solution which had not been scrubbed yet and this acted as a
frictionless runway. The scrubber spun
out of control with Jon sailing along next to it. His head cruised through stripping solution
on the floor creating a spray of chemicals and wax. Having left his goggles on when he filled the
stripping solution earlier, Jon was able to see spray covering his goggles with
a milky white haze. Jon’s hands and arms
flailed as he attempted to grab something to stop himself. His left hand bounced off the wall. A bolt of pain shot up his arm. Instinctively he pulled it toward himself
which in turn threw off his balance. He
quickly reached out with his other hand to steady himself and the machine ran
over it. The coarse black stripping pad
neatly removed the top layer of skin.
Stripping solution cauterized his epidermis and Jon howled in pain.
By now, the machine had made some three or
four revolutions. The cord which was
plugged into the wall was getting shorter and shorter as it wrapped around the
scrubber while it was spinning in circles.
As the machine made one more revolution, Jon’s legs disengaged from the
handle and he crumpled in a heap on the floor.
Stripping solution soaked into his clothing. The scrubber finished its spin at which point
the cord jerked out of the wall. The end
of the cord flew through the air and bounced off Jon’s head. Pain seared through Jon’s face and a welt
immediately began to rise above his right eye.
Jon moaned and sat stunned for a few minutes. His right hand was burning and red. His left hand ached from bouncing off the
wall. His skin burned as the stripper
slowly ate away at his dermis. His right
foot looked like a football. It was full of solution and the tear was now
immense. The whole front of his shoe had
ripped wide open and was peeled back like the lid on a can of beans. Jon’s right eye was puffed up. It looked like a golf ball had been
surgically inserted under the skin. Jon
sat stunned.
A minute or two passed and Jon slowly
turned over and crawled out of the lake of stripper and onto the dry
floor. Carefully standing up, Jon
righted himself and leaned against the far wall to regain his balance. His eyes roved around the scene of
destruction. A large hole was present in
one wall, most likely where the handle of the scrubber had hit it when
spinning. His scrubber was upended and
the cored wrapped tightly underneath. At some point while he spun the machine
had hit and knocked over the bucket of stripping solution. It had flowed down the hallway and under the
doors into the gym. Jon’s immediate thought
was to get it off the gym floor immediately before it damaged the gym finish. His mind was still fuzzy and he needed to sit
down. He slid down the wall, his back
leaving a swath of colors where the paint came off as he did so.
Jon was miserable. His head throbbed. His body ached. His foot burned. His hands were numb. But Jon, being the conscientious custodian he
was, slowly rose to his feet, wobbled a bit and then stood upright. His vision cleared a little, but his right
eye was swollen shut. He could only see out of his left eye. Now he was not seeing in stereo, but rather
in mono-vision. Jon purveyed the scene, turning his head farther than normal
due to his limited vision. He knew he
had to get this solution off the floor. Carefully, so carefully, Jon made his
way to the wet-vac. He plugged it in,
made sure the interior float was adjusted correctly and the lid was on
tight. He then turned on the wet-vac,
dropped the squeegee to the floor and started to push it through the liquid
sucking it up.
The wet-vac roared with the sounds of
water gushing into the waste tank while leaving dry paths of floor behind
it. It looked a lot like the Red Sea
being parted for Moses. There was so
much solution on the floor though that the tank filled quickly. Unknown to Jon the float was stuck in the
float cage because it had not been cleaned the last time it was used so the old
wax had dried and the ball was stuck.
As the water neared the float inside the
waste tank, Jon slowly pushed the wet-vac from behind. The water kept creeping up until it
eventually passed the ball which should have floated up and stopped the
suction. It didn’t. The water climbed higher and higher until it
suddenly sucked into the float cage and up into the motor. The wet-vac roared. Jon stopped pushing and cocked his head to
the side trying to figure out what was going on. Just then the water sucking into the motor
created a wonderful conductor and shorted out the motor. A loud “pop” occurred
and the motor blew. Smoke billowed out
of the top of the wet-vac while the machine wound down. Sparks shot out of the side of the air vents
on the top of the motor and hit the floor.
Jon jumped back but not quick enough.
One more burst of electricity and sparks surged through the machine and
zipped up the handles where they met Jon’s wet stripper soaked hands. Electrons
shot up Jon’s arms with lightning speed and jolted his body with 120 volts of
electricity and 20 amps of current. It
was enough to fling Jon backward and through the air. His feet were a foot off the ground. Jon sailed in a neat arc some six feet
through the air and backwards into a large display case filled with trophies. The glass shattered into a million jewels of
glass as the safety glass broke into tiny pieces. The back of Jon’s head
bounced off a trophy for baseball.
Instead of an actual baseball hitting Jon at 100 mph, Jon’s head hit the
golden baseball on the trophy at an unknown speed. Basically a head injury by baseball in
reverse. The stars that filled Jon’s
head suddenly blinked out and Jon crumpled to the floor his mind black.
Jon’s eyes fluttered open. Distant voices and odd noises could be heard
in the distance. To Jon they sounded muffled as if he were listening to
something through thick layers of cotton.
Slowly turning his head to the right, Jon noticed tiny jewels of glass
glittering all around him. Athletic
trophies lay toppled one on top of the other on the floor. A baseball trophy lay next to him. His back was wet and the floor glistened like
the perfectly calm surface of a lake. Jon closed his eyes and shook his head
slightly to clear the cobwebs. When he
opened them a man’s face was peering into Jon’s eyes calling his name. His
voice slowly cleared, as if the Doppler Effect through cotton was getting
closer, but he still couldn’t quite ascertain who it was or where he was. A few seconds ticked by and then Jon’s mind
put the pieces together as he recognized Red, the local paramedic. But why was he here? And why was Jon on his back? Suddenly, like
an air horn blast of reality, Jon remembered what happened!
Red stared down at him in disbelief. He couldn’t believe this poor guy. He’d never seen anyone have more problems and
get himself into more trouble than Jon.
Red attended to Jon’s injuries and with his paramedic partner Whitey
they carefully placed Jon on a gurney.
As they rolled Jon to the elevator he tried to figure out how the
paramedics knew he had gotten hurt. Then
he saw his pal Thornton Greenlove, an elementary school custodian. He’d dropped by to borrow some cleaning
equipment from Jon when he found him knocked out on the floor.
“Did you call 911?” Jon asked Thornton.
“Yup.
I couldn’t just leave you lying there.”
“Well, thanks. I appreciate it very much. And I’m so embarrassed.”
“I’m glad you’re okay. But now it’s payback time. I leave you with a mess to clean up after you
get back. Remember the mess you left me
when we were trying to fix the heat above Gladis’ room?”
Jon chuckled at the memory and pain shot
through his abdomen and chest. He
remembered. What a day that had been.
The elevator doors opened and Red and
Whitey rolled Jon inside. The doors
clambered shut. The old elevator shook a
bit and rumbled to life as it climbed to the next level. Part way up there was a shudder and the
lights went out. The elevator had failed
again. Red got on his radio and called
for help. It was going to be a long
day. All Jon could do was laugh. When he
did it startled Whitey and the flashlight he was holding slipped out of his
hand and bounced off Jon’s head. Everything
went black.
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