Authors: Veronica Melan
Tabitha rubbed her watering eyes with the linen bag and looked at my glowing with hope face.
“Don’t just stand there like a lemon” she said to me in her usual abrupt manner, “go and get the bread, while I’ll search for the second barrel. The second one will come in handy.”
As I was leaping into the pantry my whole soul was singing from the overflowing feelings. Tabitha got me! She understood! Not only she did not condemn me but she even promised to find another barrel! She wanted to take part in this! When two maids passed me by in the corridor, suspiciously frowning at my happy face, I forced myself to calm down. It wasn’t normal to even smile around here... what if they complain about my behaviour? So I disguised my contentment, switched to a slower pace and began to breathe normally. Calm down... calm down... They don’t have to know what it is going on here or see happiness on my face.
As soon as I reached the stairs leading to the basement, I laughed again. She got it! Tabitha got me!
Now I had another task on my list “to do” - and this task was to get the meds. All the wandering around the hospital building I did, didn’t bring any results. Although the door was not locked, the guards were poking around all the time and the old grouchy doctor was constantly there. I peered through the windows, sniffed and watched around, like a fox near a chicken coop, looking at the cabinets with medicine, and yet I could not find a way to get inside.
Carrying on with my daily routine, I was constantly thinking about all the possible options, building plans and then changing my mind since none of the ideas seemed to be good enough. As soon as I finished doing something, I’d begin wandering around the infirmary again and again, trying to find a way to get the medications. But as the time was ticking on, and my findings were still non-existent. I could not break the lock at night because that wasn’t one of my skills, and during the day the building was never left unattended.
A few days later, after putting all the effort into thinking about how to get in and at the same time discarding hundreds of possibilities, I came to the conclusion - I had to get ill in order to get into the infirmary. But what kind of illness could get me there?
Not that I was upset about being healthy (it would be kind of silly to complain about it), but I just got an urgent need to be injured. What should I do? Should I go to the kitchen, take a knife and cut my finger? Yuck. Think about that was disgusting, and most likely Tabitha will get told off for not looking after her utensils properly. Should I ask somebody from the stone-pit to hit me with a pick?
Why won’t you just ask them to break your skull with the boulder? My inner voice suggested immediately.
But if this happens, I’ll be deprived of the opportunity to deliver the food there.
So what should I do?
I suddenly halted in a courtyard with the broom in my hands, looking pensively at the passing guard, trying not to let the elusive idea slip away... Then it dawned on me, of course, Greg! If I find Greg he’ll be very happy to do this “favour” for me! I hastily finished sweeping and ran to search the senior warden.
Who would have thought that I’d ever wish for this meeting to happen? I thought, turning around the corner of the mansion and heading towards the plantations. But a daredevil will always find an adventure if they want to, right?
He stood by the side of the field with his back turned to me, watching the prisoners collect corncobs into large baskets. Here and there I saw the flashing whips, dropping on the naked backs of the workers if they stopped for a second or hesitated with their work for longer than a few moments.
“Come on! Move!” The roars of the guards were heard constantly, and the hissing sound would cut the air again and again.
I hated this sound. The sound of a whip falling down on someone’s back and then the cry of the unlucky prisoner that would always follow it.
“I hate you, bastards!” I whispered, getting closer to Greg.
Feeling the movement behind his back, he quickly turned around and his face darkened as he saw me.
Good reaction! Exactly what I need.
“What the hell are you doing here?” He snarled, “get out of here!”
Frightened, I almost bottled it, but somehow remained standing, even though everything inside of me was now trembling. Well, no... I didn’t come here to shamefully flee as soon as going get a bit rough. First, I need to get a reason to get into the infirmary, so I put a carefree look on my face, stuck my hands in the pockets and looked at him insolently.
“If you can stand here, why can’t I?”
He seemed taken aback with my response.
“You are completely dumb, aren’t you?” That was the only words he could squeeze out of his mouth once he recovered from the initial shock, “I said, make yourself scare now and get back to your duties!”
“I am on my lunch break.” Even though my heart had almost stopped beating from horror, I said it cheerfully and kept an innocent expression on my face.
Greg’s skin became dark red.
“Oh and where did you get that ugly scar?” I blurted out, staring at his cheek.
Senior warden’s eyes nearly popped out from my arrogance, his thin lips were opening and closing silently. I knew I was crossing the dangerous line, and my bridges were burning behind like pine needles in a forest fire, and although Greg was now looking like a bull that’s been wounded in its balls, yet he continued to stand still, which wasn’t quite was I wanted.
“It does not look aesthetically pleasing.” I shook my head, expecting him to lash out at me at any second and praying for a bruise instead of the broken bones.
Greg’s fingers were clenching and unclenching his club, as if he really wanted to grab it but it was too hot. He would touch it and then draw his hand away quickly. Touch it again and draw back quickly...
Come on! What the heck is holding you back?
“Bi-i-i-tch” he whispered, staring at me wildly; his body leaned forward as if it was ready to crush and bury me under the ground but his feet seemed to be rooted to the soil, “I’ll fucking bury you...”
Well, move it then! Why are you standing? – I howled silently, knowing that I was playing with fire, and that by now it was late too change anything.
He will kill me! What I was thinking?!”
But it was too late to give up either. How did he manage to hold on for so long? I was trying to stand still and not run away at the same time forcing myself to think about the bleeding palms and all those people I can help if I get the medications. If I survive that is.
It was a stupid idea ...- As always, a clever thought comes too late.
“So what’s the story with your scar? Was it a woman? Or a stray bullet? Or did you cut yourself shaving?”
Suddenly Greg grabbed the whip that was attached to his belt and pulled it trying to release it but once again he froze half way his movement and only growled angrily as his knuckles whitened around the hilt.
“I’ll get you...”
Exhausted from the fear and sweating like hell, I was completely puzzled by Greg’s behaviour. Why wasn’t he lashing out at me? Something was definitely wrong... If it was the same Greg I saw in the corridor by the kitchen, I would have been lying on the ground by now, begging for mercy, wishing for a fast and painless death but instead, the red-faced warden stood in front of me motionless!
It was too late when I noticed that Greg who was now foaming at the mouth from the rage, was constantly throwing odd looks over my shoulder - I turned around rapidly and froze on the spot.
Behind me, with tightly pressed lips, stood Hulk.
Holy crap!
“Get out of here!” he spat shortly and a second later I disappeared from the plantation.
“What the hell was this hussy about?” Greg roared, spitting saliva with each syllable. His face was covered with red spots; his fists were clenching angrily, “she was purposely teasing me! Did you see that? No, did you see it?”
“Yes, I did.” Hulk thoughtfully chewed on his lip, remembering the face of the reckless foolish girl, when she turned around and saw him. And yes, he agreed that this whole show was done on purpose but what was the purpose? She obviously didn’t expect him to intervene, hoping that Greg would throw himself at her (which he would have definitely done if Hulk wasn’t there).
“Keep calm if she tries to provoke you again. Do you understand?”
Greg slurred and mumbled something and then spat on the ground.
“I asked if you understood.”
“I got it, got it.” he forced himself to say reluctantly and turned away.
“I will talk to her tonight after I get back from the city. I need to pick something up from the post office. And before I get back there shouldn’t be any incidents.”
After he got sure that silent Greg understood his order, Hulk turned and walked towards the house.
I was angry about everything. I was angry at Greg (because he just happened to be born), angry at Hulk for interfering and ruining my plans (or perhaps, saving my life?) and I was angry at myself. Even if my idea to get beaten up was totally stupid, I still failed. I teased Greg badly and now he’ll certainly find a way to get back at me for that. Secretly or openly - it will only dependent on his temper and imagination.
I hid myself on the edge of a cornfield and now was sitting there, watching the twinkling stars in the sky. Corn stalks stood silently waiting for the slightest gust of wind to start a midnight conversation but it wasn’t there, and there was only a blissful and stuffy silence surrounding me.
I didn’t want to go back to my room. It wouldn’t be possible to fall asleep anyway, not when I felt so angry and overwhelmed after today’s meeting with Greg and Hulk. In order to get some fresh air, I sneaked outside inconspicuously and using the trees shadows and bushes crawled to the field which was now quiet and empty.
The windows of the small wooden house, where some of the guards lived, shone in the distance; chewing on a piece straw, I was looking at the yellowish light pouring out from them, and like a cat I was subconsciously listening to the sounds around me.
No voices, no footsteps, nothing.
Why didn’t Hulk ask me to come to his office after what he’d seen today? Didn’t he understand that it was all a show? Of course, he did. No doubt. But, then why didn’t he call me? I was puzzled. I remembered his frowning face and tightly pressed lips, which firmly etched in my memory that was still in a state of a shock, as soon as I understand who exactly stood behind my back.
Because of the tanned skin, his eyes seemed brighter, almost silvery colour. For some reason, another memory popped up in my mind – that time in the club, when I was staring in his eyes for a very long time and then there was a short bleep which meant that my bracelet just had five points taken off it.
Sod it.
I sneered, still feeling hurt after what he’d done to me and spat the grass stem out of my mouth. Yes, he was handsome, yet he was still a bastard. A ranch owner, a slave owner... Sod him.
Feeling irritated again, I got up and walked along the edge of the field, keeping in the shade, in case I had to dart into the safety quickly. Although, if the guards do notice me, I won’t be able to hide from their torches and no high corn stems will save me. If I get caught, I’ll get bruises, broken bones as well as whip prints on my back. The latter sent shivers down my spine. The hissing sound cutting through the air and painful groans that followed - it all became real again in my imagination.
The night remained warm, but suddenly I felt chilly, as though it was my back which was just hurt by the stinging whip... Keeping my eyes fixed on the house in front, I suddenly found myself creeping towards it. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to ask myself “what am I doing?” but to my utter shame, I knew perfectly well what I was doing.
Not feeling surprised by my own decision, I was listening to the sound of my shoes, almost noiselessly stepping on the ground, and the voices became apparent as soon as I got closer to the building. Judging by the tone everything was OK and the guards were not worried or expecting any trouble to happen.
I rubbed my sweaty palms in glee. Perfect! Sit right where you are...