Clotheslines

The buzzer on the wash machine sounded letting Sarah know the laundry was complete. The honey oak floors squeaked in protest as she descended to the basement of her house.

She reached into the steel drum to haul out the sopping wet laundry which felt ten times heavier now that it was wet. She questioned her sanity as she lugged the white plastic basket up the stairs and out to the clothesline rather than simply tossing it into the dryer. But for Sara, there was something cathartic about hanging laundry on a clothesline.

The screen door slammed shut behind her as she shifted the weight of the basket from one hip to another. The warm breeze lifted her hair, tickling her neck as it rose and fell with the current.

The clothesline hummed like the strings of a guitar as she grabbed the line preparing to pin the larger items first: bed linens, towels, jeans and shirts. The line sagged and dragged closer to the ground as each successive item was fastened to it.

The faint buzzing sound of a bumble bee grew louder as it weaved and bobbed around the laundry.

The tiny items were last to be hung and good thing since it was a game of strategy to fit it all in. Glancing down she could see the empty basket and pushed the stubborn line as far as it would roll causing a piercing noise to shatter the peace of the neighborhood. Sarah took a quick glance around to see if she had disturbed any of her neighbours.

No sooner had Sarah finished her thought than a sliding patio screen burst open at her neighbour Maybel's house. "Beautiful day to do laundry." Maybel stated.

"Yes it is." Sarah agreed.

Maybel had an endless supply of laundry that didn't match the occupants. Maybel and her husband Fred were both retired but their laundry boasted an endless assortment of baby onesies, toddler outfits, and school uniforms.

Isn't it interesting what you can learn from the garments on a clothesline? The flapping laundry advertised the current status of the occupants of the dwelling replacing the need for social media.

Today, Maybel's clothesline said "Yes, I've been to the beach this weekend," based on all the sunny weather clothes posing and positioning themselves for those who dared to look and "Yes," given the number and size of the beach apparel "I had an assortment of friends and family along for the fun."

How inconspicuously missing are the stained and tattered garments that everyone has but yet are never displayed on a clothesline, like an unflattering photo on social media that is quickly nixed and hidden from public view.

The smooth swooshing sound of Maybel's clothesline being pulled inward brought Sarah out of her daydream. Maybel had already hung and dried a basketful of laundry. "Wow, you've been productive this morning! You must wake up at the crack of dawn?"

"Oh well," Maybel blushed. "the early bird gets the worm."

Sarah never let on that she knew Maybel's secret. Late one evening Sarah spied Maybel pinning her wash on the clothesline. Sarah checked the time to reveal 10:00 p.m. When Sarah woke in the morning at 7:00 a.m. the same clothes were still on the line. No longer feeling like a failed homemaker Sarah kept Maybel's secret hidden and slyly poked and prodded Maybel to see if she would spill her secret. To this point she had not.

Maybel's adept hands could pin and unpin a clothesline full of clothes with the skill and agility of a well practiced expert. It had not been uncommon to see Maybel's laundry snapping back and forth in the November frost; half frozen and unlikely to ever dry.

She turned to Maybel to say goodbye but Maybel had somehow disappeared back into her house escaping Sarah's notice.

Sarah gave her clothesline one final shove, spinning the wheel a few inches further causing it to shriek and stop dread as it reached its limit. She scooped up the empty basket, slung it against her hip, strode to the back door and let it slam shut behind her.