Authors: Veronica Melan
I was right - as I’d gone through a short corridor, I came straight into one of the kitchen facilities that at the moment was empty, no voices were heard from the corridor either. Even though I knew I shouldn’t be there, I stepped inside, checking out the interior. There were huge grey sinks attached to a wall, a long butchering table, a large stove with some huge pots and pans standing on top of it (a close examination revealed they all were empty) and a lot of kitchen utensils hanging across the walls.
I tiptoed around the table, sink and shelves with the rows of different sized pans.
What a spread! It was possible to feed an army of people with pans of this size. But who said there wasn’t an army working here? But why is everything empty? Does this mean that dinner time was over? And if so, why wasn’t I invited to have some food?
I swallowed and licked my lips feeling completely left out. The smell clearly pointed out that the meals were prepared in here and in the adjacent rooms but whatever the food was cooked here, it had gone by now. Pots were carefully washed-up; the sinks and the floor were cleaned. I was about to leave when I glanced at the table and noticed a green bowl standing on it. I came closer and jumped up with delight. Apples! At the bottom of the bowl there were three green apples. I never felt as happy as I did now seeing these fruits. I grabbed one of them (I would’ve grabbed more if I wasn’t worried that apples were accounted for) and headed to the exit. As soon as I left the kitchen, I saw some guards walking towards me. For a split second my heart dropped into my stomach and then it began palpitating frantically.
“Hey! Look at that! She is stealing food from the kitchen!”
They said exactly what I was scared of the most and I rushed headfirst towards the door but after a few seconds someone's hand got hold of me - I gasped and darted to the side trying to escape. My t-shirt ripped immediately but my hand was freed for a second, just to be caught by another guard.
“Hey, you, stop!” I heard an angry voice. At this point two guards were holding me tight between them.
Somehow, as if materialising from the air, the man with a scar who came after me this morning, appeared in front of me.
“What's in your hand?!!” he yelled, “Give me what you have in your hand!”
I was still desperately trying to escape. The Sniffling of the two goons and my own mixed up in a cacophony of strained romping and struggling.
“Show me what’s in your hand, I said!” another guard puffed. His sticky fingers began to wrestle my precious apple, and I being so frightened and trying to defend my fruit, kicked him in the shin. There was a howl from his side and he immediately slammed me in the ribs. I coughed.
“You rotten rat! Bloody thief! I'll show you ...”
“Hey, hey! Stop it!” The man with the scar interfered. “And you give me back what you’ve stolen!”
“I’m not a thief!” I gasped. “I’ve not been fed at all today!”
“Don’t you dare to talk to me like that! Who gave you permission to hang around the house? Show me what’s in your hand!”
“No.”
“Don’t you think I could break you, you stubborn smartass?”
He painfully gripped my chin and shook it; his disfigured face neared mine as he growled.
“I'll teach you how to talk with me properly! You’ll be crawling and cleaning my shoes with your tongue, bitch!”
If before I contemplated giving the apple back and apologising then after these words I was really furious. How dare they treat a woman like that? They were three thugs against me - a tired littlt girl. Yes, I stepped into a forbidden area and took the apple, so what? If I was asked politely, I’d return it with no problems.
“You can lick your shoes yourself!” I hissed angrily in response for which I was hit directly in the ribs again and coughed, but rather than moan and apologise, I got even angrier.
“Is that all you are capable of - beating up women?”
He swung and this time his fist met my face.
From the pain and shock I stopped breathing for a moment. There weren’t any rational thoughts left in my head anymore, there was only rage, throbbing pain in my cheek and exorbitant hurt. No way! I shook my heavy head trying not to move my jaw, which was already swollen, as if it was packed with wet cotton wool.
“Well, are you learning quickly?” The man with the scar squeezed my chin with his fingers again.
I gathered up all my strength and spat in his face - if I was going to get killed, I’d prefer to get it over with now without any further torture lasting for years.
“Fucking bitch...” For a moment then he was speechless, the words were coming out of his mouth with quiet whistling. He slowly wiped off the saliva running down his nose and then his hand shot up into the air so fast that the fabric of his shirt ripped.
That’s it. This is the end of my life. Lord, let my death be quick rather than survive every day’s lessons like this. I closed my eyes in anticipation of a new pain, praying not to become a cripple.
“Stop!” a familiar voice shouted sharply and abruptly.
I was standing with my eyes closed and not believing my ears, still expecting the last strike to come. But it didn’t. When I finally dared to look, I saw Hulk standing on the stairs. The guard's hand stopped in the mid-air and his eyes had a stupid confused expression as if he had already imagined a film where my nose was smashed to pieces and then someone suddenly pressed “rewind” followed by the “pause” button. With his hand lifted up, he looked like a sculpture prepared to throw a disc or a ball.
“What's going on here?” Hulk approached rapidly. Poorly repressed anger was visible in his gesture and his pace, his glance skimmed from me to the guard who’s already managed to lower his arm.
“This hussy is stealing food on the first day!”
“Is this true?” grey eyes, as cold as the winter blizzard, turned to me.
“True.” I said quietly, “I took an apple, because I haven’t been fed.”
I did not know what his reaction was going to be but I didn’t really care; I felt exhausted. Hunger and tiredness stretched my nerves to the limit, the explosion of anger that occurred a moment ago had now vanished and left me empty and broken inside. Another wave of pain surged with new strength and was throbbing mercilessly in my ribs and head. I licked my lips and felt the taste of blood. The apple slipped out of my weak fingers and fell off on the floor bouncing away.
For a while there was a complete silence around. I didn’t know if Hulk was looking at me because I dropped my head.
“Greg, you come with me.” at least the owner of the house broke the silence, “you two, take her to the doctor, then I want to see her in my office.”
After he gave the orders, Hulk abruptly turned and walked away.
*****
“Greg, please answer my question. Why do you think she stole an apple?” Hulk sat in a chair, lazy and relaxed; looking at the man standing in front of him, however there was a dangerous spark in his eyes. Years of work at this ranch taught Greg how to identify this spark before it turns into fire - this ability many times has saved if not his skin, but at least his ass.
“She stole it, because people like her are always stealing!” Greg spat out angrily.
“Let’s try again. Greg, why did she steal an apple?”
“I’ve just answered...”
“OK, my third attempt....” the spark grew stronger.
Looking at Hulk sitting in the chair, Greg grimaced. Damn his boss, whose attention nothing could slip from.
“She stole it because she was hanging around and taking whatever she saw.”
“Why do you think she was hanging around?” Hulk lazily locked his fingers and looked at him.
Greg pulled the collar of his shirt, as if it was squeezing his neck too tightly.
“How would I know why? Maybe because she is far too curious...”
“Greg, don’t make me angry.”
“What do you want to hear from me, Hulk? That she was probably searching for some food in there?”
“And why is that?”
“Because she was hungry!” he exploded. “This girl dared to spit at me! She spoke to me as if I was a piece of shit and then she spat at me in front of the others! I should’ve killed her for it...”
Looking at Greg’s angry face, Hulk did not show any emotions, only the lump on his jaw twitched and stiffened.
“Shut up.” he snapped coldly, “and answer my questions.”
The guard’s verbal flow was instantly cut off.
“Yes, Sir.”
“And now is the main question - why was she hungry? Who is responsible for that?”
Greg swallowed nervously, knowing where this conversation is going.
“You.” the man in the chair answered himself, then separated his fingers and stretched his arms along the armrests. To the guard’s hidden envy and admiration, his boss looked like royalty sitting in a shitty armchair, exuding power and strength, the source of which Greg could never quite grasp but which made him obey unconditionally. Maybe it was because of his rolled-up sleeves? Or maybe because of the golden chain sitting on his neck like a curvy snake? Greg decided to practice Hulk’s narrowing of the eyes which forced him to shiver.
“You are also aware of the circumstances in which you are allowed to get heavy-handed. You are also aware that your final strike, if it was to happen, would’ve probably crippled the girl, if not led to her death. When I gave permission for educational measures, I did not say to act like an animal, especially against someone whose offence was a direct result of your own negligence.”
Greg kept quiet not being able to remember the last time when he was told off like that. He wiped off the beads of sweat from his forehead and shifted his numb feet, squeezed into tight boots. It would be nice to learn how to build such long and fine sentences like Hulk just did but in order to do so, he’d need to read all the books in the master’s library. Not feeling ready for such heroic deed, Greg shook his head impatiently and glanced at the painting, which depicted flying brigantine on the stormy waves. He didn’t want to meet Hulk’s eyes because he knew it was his fault what just happened.
However, Greg thought it was totally the girl’s fault. After all it wasn’t him who went into the kitchen and stole an apple, right? And if she stole once, she’ll steal again - that was an obvious example of her future behaviour. Greg did not have a single doubt that tomorrow he would catch her somewhere else - in the pantry or in the owner's office, because people like her never change. The only place where he wouldn’t mind catching her - was his own bed where she’d be taught some obedience quickly. Greg forced himself to switch to the main topic of the conversation from the seditious thoughts - like it or not, Hulk was right about one thing, if he hadn’t come on time, Greg would have smashed her face in completely. He wouldn’t have been able to control himself. Yes, he’d smash it in and he’d pay dearly for it, serving time on an isolation ward in or even losing his job.
“Greg? ...” a subtle voice interrupted his pondering.
“Yes?”
“If I see once more that you are not able to concentrate on the conversation, I deem you unfit for service. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir!” Greg replied immediately. Did he really submerge in his thoughts so deeply?
For a few seconds, Hulk was carefully studying the face mutilated by the scar.
“Next time if she does not follow the instructions and by knowledge or ignorance violates the rules, I want you to bring her to my office. I do not want to see the implementation of your own initiative until you’ve learnt how to control yourself. Your behaviour today was despicable. Is everything clear?”
Greg reluctantly nodded.
“Of course, sir.”
“Also, check the growing rumours about workers’ dissatisfaction in the stone-pit and find out their roots. Tomorrow morning I expect your report. You are free to go now.”
Feeling relieved from the ability to finally stretch his legs, Greg rumbled with his shoes towards the door thinking of what had just happened. It was rather good that Hulk had stopped him from smashing this girl today - he could survive without the instant revenge but he couldn’t survive without a decent job which was very hard to find in Tally. And Greg, as nobody else, knew it very well.