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The light flickered again, and Cedric’s on again off again laughing stopped instantly.
“Damn wirings have gone to shit.”
He headed for the stove and the big pot now bubbling atop. Pulling off the lid, he stirred the food with a wooden spoon, took a spoonful to his mouth, slurped it behind his sparse mustache, then returned the spoon and stirred again.
My eyes rolled closed in a silent prayer, hoping I wouldn’t have to eat any of it.
I opened my eyes to the sounds of potatoes slapping against china bowls, the stock overflowing the rim. He tossed in an ancient fork that would play havoc with my teeth fillings, and placed the bowl in front of me. His dirty fingers added a sprinkle of salt. He repeated with his own food and then lit a candle between us like he knew, seconds later, the light would give out, and it did.
The lack of light made it easier for me to face what was in my bowl— potatoes, carrots, rutabaga, some kind of meat that looked drastically undercooked. I didn’t like meat but didn’t know if I could refuse. I’d leave it until last, and hopefully, he’d believe the lie I’d tell when I’d say I was full.
He took his first mouthful, and I followed suit, taking a much smaller one.
“You can tell me some of the stuff you like later, and I’ll get you some housewarming gifts,” Cedric said, his dinner dripping from his full mouth and back into his bowl.
He crunched a carrot with his front teeth, looking nothing like my favorite cartoon bunny.
I simply nodded, not replicating his poor table manners.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” He wiped his mouth with his dirty sleeve and rushed to the refrigerator, pulling out two budget colas and placing them on the table. Two cloudy glasses landed at their side, and he sat back down.
I stared at the brand for a second, wondering if he genuinely preferred it to the premium stuff or if he’d spent all his money on me.
“It’s quality, despite the price.” He smiled.
I guess that answered that.
But I still thought his money could have been spent on better things…like a vacuum.
I smiled. It was small and false, but there, and I swallowed down the food he’d made me.
I could appreciate that he was nothing at all like I’d imagined my master to be because, in an odd way, he seemed sweet and genuine...
But at one point, so did Daniel.
And he was a monster.
I couldn’t let basic good deeds sugar-coat what this was.
I couldn’t forget, despite the food and gift offers, that I was a slave.
And I couldn’t forget that Cedric, too, was a monster.
***
Loneliness acted as company, drifting in and out each time my thoughts were hushed.
The bed where I sat was decent, the mattress more comfortable than those at the hostel and much better than the floor at Vandalla’s. The frame was sturdy, wooden, and probably the cleanest thing in the whole house.
I slipped under the pink sheets, relief flooding me because no stains hid beneath them.
Cedric had gifted me a notebook. I brought that and the pen I was using to write in it onto my knees, and I continued penning my list, which was hard to do with a swollen wrist, even if it wasn’t my dominant hand. As instructed, I wrote down all the things I might need: preferred toiletries, favorite snacks, craft supplies I could use in my free time, and more clothes. I didn’t need them. The old wooden armoire was practically creaking at its hinges. As soon as I got up here, I’d changed into a soft pair of pajamas with tiny bears all over them.
All my buttons were done up to my throat, just in case.
Cedric hadn’t forced a move or pushed anything, but fear persisted in interfering.
I closed the notebook, placing it on the bedside table. I pulled the string on the lamp set there, casting the room in darkness.
