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I don’t know how I know, but he speaks from experience. I take his advice, this level of hunger still too unfamiliar to me. “Thank you,” I whisper between bites and the occasional hiccup.
He doesn’t say anything, not for a couple minutes. Finally, he asks, “How long has it been?”
“Three days, not much food, only a day and a half without good water.” Shame burns my cheeks. I couldn’t stop. The risk wasn’t worth it. When the food ran out, the hunger began. I’ve never been without. Not once in my whole life. I had no idea a person could feel like this.
“You started shaking some then, right?” He’s looking at me, but I don’t look up. I’d hate to see that he’s pitying me. Though I deserve it, wretch of a creature that I’ve become. He doesn’t stop me as I drink the cup of water a second time.
“Just my hands. If I clench them into fists—”
“They stop shaking,” Rhett says, “I know.” He refills my drained cup again. He hasn’t put the food away. It’s like he’s waiting to be sure I’ve had enough. I don’t deserve this treatment. He doesn’t know me. I haven’t earned any of this.
“It’s the water that really gets to you.” Rhett rubs his palm over his mouth. “That moment when you think about drinking a puddle because you’re that thirsty.”
I finally look up. It wasn’t a conscious decision. Maybe I thought he earned it. Maybe I need to see if he’s telling the truth. The way he talks, like he understands these things firsthand, I have to know. There’s no pity in his eyes, only understanding and compassion.
“My birth parents died in a wreck when I was a kid. I was put into foster care, but I had this awful habit of running away. I spent a lot of time on the streets as a small child.” He shrugs, maybe realizing that he’s talking to a complete stranger. “You do what it takes to survive.”
“I think that’s human nature.” I set the fork on the plate, allowing my body a chance to catch up with my eating. “We all want to survive, no matter the cost.”
“Is that what you’re doing, Sunny? Surviving?”
It’s as close to the truth as I’m willing to go.
“Yes, that’s what I’m doing.”
Rhett
Even if I was young, I still haven’t forgotten the time that I spent on the streets. I don’t know what possessed me to run away in the first place. At first it was to look for my parents. I didn’t believe they were gone, but as time passed and no one came for me, that reality sunk in. After that, I don’t know, I just couldn’t stay inside stranger’s walls, no matter how nice they were.
Sunny still looks a little shaky after eating a plate of food. She doesn’t know it, but I have a small garbage can out from under the sink. If she looks like she’s gonna lose it, I’ll be ready. I was eight when I first ran into Santiago. I hadn’t eaten more than garbage for seven days. I smelled his soup at his soup kitchen and must have looked like one of those cartoons following scent trails that look more like fingers beckoning them to the food. I waited until the lines died down, and then I tried to sneak a bowl of chili to eat in the alley. Santi wasn’t having any of that. He sat me down at the table and asked me about a million questions while I inhaled the food. I didn’t say a word, way too hungry to give in, and bowl after bowl appeared in front of me. I ate and drank despite his warnings to slow down and before I knew it, my stomach was empty again, and Santi’s floor needed cleaning. Just like I told Sunny, I was starving all over again.
The tremble in her hands has faded. But I notice she hides them whenever she can. She’s a paradox, that’s for certain. Confident, almost brazen at times, then shy and timid at the drop of a hat. Secrets hide in the shadows of her eyes, but I know no matter of confessions on my part are going to earn me anything tonight. Just like I refused to tell Santi anything when we first met, Sunny is keeping her guard up, not willing to give an ounce of trust.
“I feel a little better.” Sunny tucks her hair behind her ears, staring at the empty plate in front of her. “Cookie is good at his job. That was amazing.”
“Don’t tell him that, his head might explode.” I wink and reach for her plate, kicking myself for being a flirt. That’s the last thing she needs right now. “Do you want anything else?”
“I’d be lying if I said no, but I don’t think I can fit anymore.”
“Yeah, that happens.” I carry our plates to the dishwasher, careful to keep the kitchen clean. “A couple days of normal eating and you’ll be able to eat right again. I’ll be sure to get you a water bottle to carry while you work. Getting you hydrated is important.”
When I turn back, I swear she’s staring at the exit like she might bolt. I cross the space between us in a couple strides, setting a hand over her arm. She jerks back, and I relinquish my grip easily. “Sorry. I just… Don’t run, okay? You’re safe here.” Sunny stares me down like I might be lying, but I have at least an idea of what’s going on in her head. “I know it looks scary, not knowing what the future holds, but this ranch, it’s safe. The guys upstairs, they’re not bad guys, they won’t hurt you.” I set a palm over my heart. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
Sunny
I don’t know how he manages to look as sincere as he does. No one is that innocent. It’s not possible. But staring at him, I want to believe it. I mean, he believes it, that he can keep me safe. Maybe that’s why I follow him to the bunk room, past all the cowboys to the bunk we’re supposed to share. He doesn’t seem the type to lie. I just didn’t know those sorts of people still existed in the world.
Most of the staff has turned in. The overhead light was extinguished before we started up the stairs again. Only a few of the cowboys are still reading in their beds with wall lamps. Rhett says something about needing to grab a sheet. I don’t care about sheets on a bed. I’ve been sleeping in my tiny car at rest stops hoping to avoid being a serial killer’s next victim for over a week. A bed with even a thin mattress sounds like pure bliss to me.
I reach to pull my shirt over my head. Rhett returns from a closet against the wall as my shirt is halfway up my body. Instantly, He grabs the hem and yanks it down, eyes wide.
“What are you doing?” His harsh whisper hisses against the stillness in the bunkroom.
“Changing,” I respond, matching his wide-eyed stare.
He shakes the sheet at me. “Hold on a second, would you? Let me at least try to be a gentleman. You don’t need to give any of these guys a show tonight.”
“What? Because of me changing my clothes? It’s not a big deal, Rhett. I’m not ashamed.”
