Whispered Prayers

by Alex Grayson

With both kids occupied for a few minutes, I take the opportunity to use the bathroom. “I’ll be right back,” I let them know before heading back toward the hall. I do my business, flush, and wash my hands. Running my tongue over my teeth, I feel the fuzz and wish for a toothbrush. I open the medicine cabinet, hoping to find at least some toothpaste or mouthwash, and come up empty. The cabinet is pretty bare, only carrying a bottle of aspirin and a comb. I wrinkle my nose. One thing I hate is having a mouth full of fuzz. Remembering seeing a bathroom in Alexander’s room, I wonder if I’m brave enough to trespass in there to look for some mouthwash. Desperate for a fresh mouth, I decide to go for it. I feel like a thief getting ready to break into a house when I peek my head out of the bathroom. Spying the kids at the counter mixing the contents in their bowls and still no sign of Alexander, I walk on tiptoes down the hallway toward the master bedroom. I leave the door open and rush to the bathroom. This bathroom is a lot bigger than the one in the hallway. While it’s not huge, it’s a lot bigger than you would think considering the size of the bedroom. But it’s beautiful with its rustic look. Cream-colored walls, pedestal sink, claw-foot tub, and separate shower. It fits with the rest of the cabin. Looking over my shoulder to make sure I’m not caught, I quickly walk over to the sink and open the small medicine cabinet. I almost shout with elation when I see a bottle of mint m...