Me, You And The Raccoon

CHAPTER II

I finished the table in the three hours that followed. It was rickety, ugly and raw, but Jade's face broke into a smile when she saw it, and she told me it was wonderful.

She'd begun to perk up a little after our talk. She went below the hatch and came up with a notebook page full of scribbles; inventory, she said it was. Pinning the list to the door of the pantry with one of my nails, she began to bring armfuls of food out of the storage space: flour, crackers, dried fruit, canned, salted and dried meats, and a single bowl of fresh apples.

The apples frightened me. They came with a note from Queen Isabel that Jade muttered aloud to herself: Even forbidden fruit can taste sweet, my dear.

When she saw my reaction and realized I was listening, she tucked the note in her pocket. "She is a horrible witch of a person," She announced. "Don't you listen to a word she writes, Scarlett."

I did not see what she did with the note, but was fairly certain she kept it.

I wondered if Jade missed her family as achingly as I missed mine. Every fiber of my being wished to be back on the farm. According to the clock on the wall, it was now five thirty. Mama would be starting dinner now, biscuits and fresh fruit for the Friday. Papa would sneak up behind her as she stirred the gravy, wrapping his arms around her and whispering that the food smelled delicious.

Jade had dug a hanging crock pot out of the storage space. Using the dried and canned ingredients she had found, she began to chop and dice and throw things into the pot.

"What are you making?" I asked, dragging an empty barrel from the crawlspace over to the new kitchen table where she worked.

Tossing a handful of chopped dried apricots into the pot, she replied, "Stew. Not much else I can make, with these." She gestured at the array of food in front of her. "And did I tell you, I discovered an ice box in the closet over there. We can save our leftovers."

"I wonder if they will deliver ice to us?" I asked, thinking of the small sliding hatch in the door, no bigger than two loaves of bread stacked on top of each other. Oh, fresh bread. How long would it be before I tasted the airy fluff of my mother's homemade bread again?

Jade had moved on to a package of dried beef. She said that she assumed they would, and hopefully bring some potable water along with it. All we had in the crawlspace was bottled water for drinking.

In the palace, there was running water, but I was used to taking my baths in a tub full of water from the well. Jade would adapt, I supposed.

"Do you think we have enough food?" I asked, glancing at the inventory list. I trusted that Jade was taking into about our limited rations as she chucked food into her pot. I had no choice but to trust her. Reading was not a skill in which I was learned.

Jade began to hack at the meat with her butcher's knife. I would have to make her a cutting board, too. The marks she split into the table were becoming ridiculous. "Yes of course," she assured me. "They aren't very well going to let us die, are they?"

I knew the question was rhetorical, but couldn't help pondering it. No, the king and queen would never let their precious heir to the throne suffer an early demise. But I? What worth had I to the royal family?

The stew tasted canned, but better than I expected. We ate quietly, each lost in our own thoughts. I was lost in plans for things we needed -- kitchen chairs, a counter, a toilet seat, maybe even bed frames at some point. I found it amazing how much the king and queen neglected to give us.

I also thought about winter. Now, in late September, the temperature already dipped to freezing on some nights. If we didn't starve, would we freeze to death?

When we finished, Jade offered me an apple for dessert. I declined.

As far as bathroom supplies went, we had been given toothbrushes, toothpaste, soaps, deodorants, razors, toilet paper, tissues and shampoo. No shaving cream, wash cloths, towels or conditioner. There was a bathtub, a small closet, a toilet without a seat, and another water pump, this one with a water basin beneath it.

I went inside, brushed my teeth, and pulled off my dress. I looked at myself in the grimy mirror, pressing my fingers to the flat of my belly. This was, all in all, the reason for my misery. I couldn't see it yet, but knew it was only a matter of time.

I climbed into my sleepshirt, one I had stolen from my mother, and wished I could disappear into the ratty gray fabric.

When I emerged, I could still hear Jade toiling away in the kitchen. Closing the door, I sighed and untied my knapsack.

Wrapped in the quilt my grandmother made was an assortment of objects from home. Too painful to look through tonight, though. Dumping them in a pile beside my mattress, I unfurled the quilt and spread it over my body.

The floor felt cold and hard against my shoulder. The mattress laid so thin beneath me that it hardly kept me separated from the floor. Shivering, I closed my eyes and tried not to hear the breathing of the queen behind me.