Masters's Son

Thirty

Before I know it, dinner rolls around after some tv. I shut it off when I hear a knock at the door. I walk quickly to the visitor and instead of seeing Bradley mister sunshine, I see Vlad. Again.

I straighten my shirt a little in hopes to look more presentable in front of him. I lost the jacket, tie, and suspenders long ago. I even untucked the shirt to get more comfortable. Now that I'm thinking about it, maybe I should've waited. Or changed.

"Evening Daniel." He says and turns to walk down the corridors.

I follow, closing my bedroom door behind me.

"I missed the opportunity to talk to you this morning," I speed to keep up with his strides, 70% leg this man is, "I would've liked you to go to town earlier this afternoon but due to my lack of notifying you, I understand why you declined." We get to the bottom of the stairs and make our turn.

So it was a necessity, I shouldn't have been so selfish. I should've just done what was expected of me, and go to town to do whatever he needed me to do.

"Why'd you want me to go to town, sir?" I ask, barely raising my voice for him to hear.

"I know I've given you some clothes the other day, but I felt it right to provide you some more, given you seem to dislike asking." He says. He sits in his usual chair. He ticks his napkin into his collar.

He knows I don't like asking for stuff. Why does it make me so embarrassed? I don't need more clothes. I appreciate the thought though, really.

I avoid eye contact. I want to say, "It's alright, I don't need more clothes, I need a computer," but there's no way I'm saying that. He'd kick me out or worse, have Jazz start taking care of me.

I love my sister, but I didn't want to bother her with going with her in the first place. She's busy working hard in college she doesn't need another burden.

"I'm also hoping to get you a second uniform. I don't believe you've had that one washed, as of yet." I look down at the crinkled, and surprisingly clean button up. It's not in it's supposedly pristine condition, but it isn't stained yet either. "It should be here by the time you get back from your friends'." He flips a book open silently ending our conversation. When did he get that book?

A few workers walk out with our food and drinks, silently setting them on the table. I mutter a thanks.

I'm not sure what it is, but it looks a lot like soup. I look at the option of silverware and see three spoons. Oh, great. Time to embarrass myself with my lack of etiquette.

I glance at which Vlad had picked up. It was more round than oval, and deeper than a regular spoon. I look back to my options and pick the same.

Maybe I should Google table etiquette or something. If Vlad ever has visitors and I walk around in a tee shirt and jeans with no manners at all, I could get in trouble. Maybe I should get more clothes. Specifically nightwear.

"Daniel," Vlad catches my attention, "how was school, today?" I should've known it would come to this. I thought I would die of cardiac arrest by running or death by running into a malevolent ghost. But no, it was me skipping school. He must know.

"It was good." I look up from the half empty soup bowl in front of me.

He pauses, "That's good." And he leaves it at that. Nothing was added. So he doesn't know, is he letting it stew until I confess? Should I fess up?

No, I should just shut up and eat my soup before he tells me to go to be without the rest of dinner tonight or tomorrow evening.

I nibble on a piece of bread from a bowl in between us. I'm not a big fan of toast—to which what I am eating is not toast, but is in fact fresh bread—but I don't think I would mind if this particular bread was crunchy.