“I have to go to the bathroom RIGHT NOW!” Judith demanded. She was squished between Terry and I and neither of us could tell she had been scrunching her legs together for the last few hours in our parents’ station wagon.
Mom had bought our little sister a ginger ale in hopes it would calm her stomach on the windy road to the beach… but that had obviously backfired.
“There’s a pull out in about a mile. Can you hold it for a few more minutes, Jude?” asked Dad.
She whimpered a little and scrunched herself up smaller than I thought possible for a seven year old. Terry and I were nine and despite being twins, neither of us had ever been as thin or sickly looking as Judith.
“It’s ok. You can make it,” I told Judith.
“I have to go really bad,” she whispered, shaking hands gripping the crotch of her overall shorts.
“Just think about something else,” I chimed, “Like that song you like from Mary Poppins or what we’re gonna do at the beach or…”
“Waterfalls! Or streams! Or toilets! Or the sound of…” Terry made a terrible hissing sound with his tongue, akin to a stream of uncontrollable urine.
“Stop! That’s not funny, Terry!” I shouted.
“Whatever, Carrie.” He rolled his eyes. My twin brother was constantly poking fun at Judith, be it her need to go or her weak stomach or her squeamish, girly fear of insects.
Judith squeezed her legs together. “Daddy… how much longer?” She meekly queried.
“Not too much. Just a coupe of minutes. You can hold it.”
I stroked Judith’s blonde hair and asked if she wanted to eat hot dogs or ham burgers tonight.
She didn’t reply; she was too focussed on holding. I watched her close her eyes and bite her bottom lip.
“We’re almost there, Jude. Almost there!” Dad reassured.
All of a sudden, the car trembled and we went over a pot hole. Terry dropped the dinosaur book he was reading. I nearly jumped out of my seat. Judith fell silent until I heard her burst into tears. “Daddy!” She blubbered. Her dress and leggings were soaked with urine and it was still dribbling out through her shaking legs.