National Mud Day

By Michael G. McLaughlin. Published on March 28, 2023.

It was National Mud Day. The day everybody in the large community worked outside in the garden, yard or field. This year it was right after a big rainstorm and the ground was really really muddy. 

It was a day like no other in the community. The people revelled in the dirt and mud, mostly mud, all day until the last of sunset. Gardens were built, fields cleared, yards raked and mud fights for sure. Everybody who could hold a broom or shovel or rake was out celebrating National Mud Day. People were married that day standing in mud. And more babies were conceived that day than any day of the year — it was a strange custom for people in this community. They were called the "dirty mud people" by surrounding communities for the mud sex they had on National Mud Day. 

Finally at sunset, National Mud Day was over. They quietly headed home a solemn, dirty and muddy people. When they got home, every person in the community took off their dirty clothes and washed them all at the same time in washing machines that did pretty much did all the same thing in the same way.

With all the muddy clothes put in the machines, the people always, of course, as usual, without thinking, added laundry detergent. Then every person in that community added a little extra detergent into the machine. There was an extra dash, a splash, or a hard sprinkle. I mean how could a person get their clothes clean of dirty mud? This was mud from National Mud Day.

While the washing machines churned away throughout the community, all the people bathed in tubs and showers, using a special bubbly Mud Day soap detergent made of lye, chlorine and carbolic acid. 

And when you add up all the extra detergent, from all the people on National Mud Day, the clothes washed, the showers all at once with hot water, boots cleaned with detergent, well, that's when the horror began.

Now you would think that all the problem would be mud — wet dirt. But that was easily handled by the amount of water in the sewer systems. It was the bubbles from all the detergent. Bubbles are a natural chemical reaction between one or more other chemicals, fluids or water. Detergent is the science of creating tiny bubbles that whisk away the dirt from cloth. More bubble the better. Bubble power!

All the detergent produced a massive amount of bubbles on the community's waste water system. The small and always underfunded waste disposal system located just outside of the community could not handle the gaseous bubbles that erupted from the incoming sewer pipes. Instantly, the plant was oozing bubbles from everywhere. Mountains of bubbles. Bubbles came out of manhole covers, came out of leaky pipes, and the earth over septic tanks emitted small bubbles like in a fairy princess story. 

The two men in the waste management building panicked and made a run through the bubbles, but they quickly began coughing and were overcome by gaseous detergent bubbles. 

With no one at the controls, the flood gates opened and the bubbles billowed out into the community like a tsunami of suds. Luck was not with the community that evening when the winds brought the bubbles by land and air. Helped by a downdraft, the bubble clouds smothered the community with detergent bubbles from above and below. People who stayed inside with closed windows and doors escaped death. Those outside were not so lucky.

Community people in autos tried to drive thru and crashed in zero visibility bubbles. When they opened the door the bubble clouds rushed in and it was all over. Some mums saw the bubbles as snow and children were bundled up and let out the front door to die in the cleanest clothes they ever wore. Cops on the street died. The elderly died in their garden. Stray dogs died, mothers out jogging died. The community zoo was carnage for the animals. Ambulance drivers used their oxygen masks to survive. They were the lucky ones.

For over an hour there were death screams through the community. Then the bubbles gently floated away and were gone and the community was very quiet. Hesitantly the survivors opened their doors and looked out at their clean streets and trees and dead bodies. No blood, a clean death one and all. The clean air smelled like cherries. 

But the biggest tragedy were the dead children at the community preschool caught at recess in the rolling clouds of detergent bubbles — small sill forming in lungs quickly overwhelmed with acidic bubbles. The next generation lost to something avoidable. 

There were support groups for those people who felt guilty they lived while others died. The children who did survive were labeled the "inside dirty ones."

Finally laws were considered concerning detergents, but not before lawsuits and a recall campaign financed by the detergent and washing machine companies against the community administration. It was after all their fault and the dereliction of duty by the runaway workers. May they rest in peace. All the detergent lawyers pointed out the culpability of the washing machines. Laws were passed that washing machines and bathing on National Mud Day would be in an orderly sequence so as not to overwhelm the sewer system in the community. 

Finally what was passed by the community government were watered down and vague regulations and a slight decrease in the formula responsible for bubble chemistry in detergents. There would be a warning sign on all boxes with print too small to read. The ingredients would not be listed on the box because the detergent's formula was proprietary and somebody else might steal the formula and sell detergent at a cheaper cost and run them out of business. Finally, it was agreed upon, all detergent would come in a neutral or peach smell only. The smell of cherries now made the community people sick with remembrance of that tragic day. 

The tradition of National Mud Day continued on, but it wasn't the same.

Michael founded and performed with an improvisational comedy theater for 20 years in Sacramento, California. He has had dozens of short stories published around the world. In 2005 he escaped to Mexico to write and live. You should too.