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Urinal/ Put to Dubious Use by the Dwarf

(Originally published in LEXICON MAGAZINE, Australia, 1997)

Short Story: Michael Lee Smith

The fly sat upon the axel-tree of the chariot-wheel and said, What a dust do I raise! ­Aesop

The dwarf was probably used to being stared at.  McNamara unzipped his pants. Tried to pry his eyes away from the little guy standing three urinals down, in front of the child­s model.   Stared at the ceiling.  After a moment he heard movement to his left, from the dwarf's direction.  Fought the urge to glance sideways.  Continued staring up, but his eyes mutinied, creeping to the left.  From the periphery he saw the dwarf making elaborate shaking motions.  As if he were shaking something substantial.             

         McNamara put two and two together, the substantial . . . whatever that the dwarf was shaking, and the cute, tattooed local chick he'd seen outside, leaning against a coconut tree, obviously awaiting someone's exit.  The dwarf was the restroom's only other occupant.

         Those facts made McNamara's eyes even more mutinous.  His neck muscles also.  Against his will, they twisted his head ever so slightly to the left.  McNamara felt an embarrassed grin growing between his nose and chin.  When he realized he was staring at the dwarf, and the dwarf staring back, the grin blossomed.

         The dwarf, a gnarled little guy with protruding forehead and chin, resembled a miniature thug.  His stare was unblinking.  After a moment it withered McNamara's grin.  Heard himself clear his throat. 

         "What ya looking at?" the dwarf demanded.

         McNamara emitted what he hoped was a friendly little laugh.  "Nothing, man."

         The dwarf scowled, still shaking lavishly.  Then his expression suddenly changed.  "Oh, I get it." He grinned as he bent slightly, tucked what he'd been shaking into his pants and zipped them. 

           "You're wondering," he said, turning to face McNamara.  "You're wondering just how big it could be."

          McNamara backed away from the urinal, zipped his pants and shook his head.  "No, man."  But he knew his smile, which was back, said otherwise.  "I­m not ..."

         "No," the dwarf said, waving his hand.  "I'm not saying you're gay or nothing.  It's just curiosity, that's all.  I mean, little guy like me. "

         McNamara­s head still shook, but he said, "Well, I have wondered, to tell the truth.  Heard stories . . ."

         The dwarf was grinning now.  "Well now, I'm not taking offense.  I can dig it."

         A moment of silence roared by.  Silence, like after a gunshot. 

         "Wanna see?"

         "Naw," McNamara said.  "Naw"­

         But he did.  And the dwarf sensed it, he could tell. 

         "Bet ya twenty it­s bigger than yours."

         "I don­t doubt that."

         "So you ain't curious?  Name me a book you can find that fact in.  'Cyclopedia. Or a medical book even."

         McNamara shrugged. 

         "Cost you twenty to find out.  Pretty cheap."

         McNamara shook his head.  "Naw."

         "Have a good story to tell your friends . . . "

         McNamara glanced around the restroom, even though he knew they were alone.  After another moment he dug out his wallet and withdrew a twenty.  As he stood holding it, he thought what it might look like if someone walked in.  He quickly handed the money to the dwarf.

         The dwarf pocketed the money, paused, and in slow motion­in what seemed to McNamara, overly dramatic, elaborate movements­ began unzipping his pants.  His chest puffed out.  He pulled himself up until he seemed almost the same height as McNamara.  His chin jutted forward importantly, and overall, in the short span of time, it seemed a different man stood in front of McNamara.  Out his penis came.  Held in both hands, arm and shoulder muscles bulging as if hefting an anvil between his legs. 

         But it was little.   Totally in proportion with the rest of the dwarf's body.  It occurred slowly to McNamara that the elaborate presentation was designed to deceive the viewer as to the scale of the presented object.  But he wasn't one of those susceptible to hype.  He started to say, "I should have taken the bet," then he saw the dwarf. Really saw him, in a way that made it almost impossible for him not to wince -- as if a skylight had opened in the ceiling and the new light glorified the dwarf's ugly novelties in all their inglorious splendor.  Maybe the dwarf was susceptible to hype.  His own.  He hoped so.

         "Impressive," McNamara said.  "Very impressive.  Worth every penny." Then he left.  Left the dwarf standing, straining with his load.

         Outside, the woman looked at him.  He gave her a quick little nod, one he hoped was ambivalent. Wished her pocketful of twenties. Maybe she'd told the dwarf his penis was huge.

         Jackson noticed the dwarf when he came into the restroom.  Little dude was standing at the kid's urinal.  Jackson shook his head, and tried to keep from smiling.

          "Man," he said to himself as he unzipped his pants, "that's an ugly little white dude."  After a minute something caught his attention.  The dwarf was shaking

something . . .

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