Me, You And The Raccoon

CHAPTER III

I woke up on the floor, shivering against the stone-cold wood. I turned over, groaning in pain. My hips, shoulders and head throbbed from sleeping on the floor. Looking at the mat to my right, laden with my grandmother's quilt, I wondered at what point in the night I rolled off of it. Was I dreaming?

Jade was nowhere in sight. Her sheets laid unwrinkled on her mattress, yesterday's dress draped over the stool at the foot of her bed. I braced myself against the wall to stand. After stretching a little, I was able to move.

I pulled the quilt around my shoulders and shivered my way into the main room. Jade wasn't here, either. Glancing at the couch, I rubbed my aching hip and decided I would sleep in here until we found a way to make our beds less painful.

Pulling the quilt closer around my neck, I fell onto the couch. Despite my sleep, I felt exhausted. "Jade?" I called.

"Yes, Dear?" Came her reply. Ah, of course. Where else would my princess be but her kitchen? I wanted to go to her, but could not make myself stand from the couch. Not a minute later, Jade emerged from the kitchen, bearing two mugs and a bowl of dried cranberries on a tray. "How was your sleep, Scarlett?"

She seemed calmer today, even content. I muttered something about the damn floor and she gave a sympathetic nod.

"I couldn't sleep," she admitted. "I've been writing recipes to try later. I am making potato pancakes, which is difficult without eggs . . . well, we shall see if they are any good. Drink your coffee, dear. You look like you need it." She set the tray down on the coffee table and scurried out of the room to check on her pancakes.

How could she be so chipper after a sleepless night? My all-nighters usually ended with me falling face-first into my breakfast. Potato pancakes? Coffee? I had missed a lot, apparently.

The scent of her cooking wafted under my nose, a sedative of sorts. It didn't matter, I supposed, how or why any of the was happening. Jade had found a way to make coffee, whatever that might have been, and my job was not to speculate about it. My job was to drink it and shut up.

When I went to join Jade in the kitchen, coffee mug in one hand, a handful of cranberries in the other, I was overwhelmed by a rich and delectable smell rising from the fireplace. Quite inventively, Jade had used the hook meant to hang a pot as a meeting point for five strings which held her frying pan suspended over the fire. It was rather precariously tied, and looked as though it may spill its contents into the fire at any moment. Still rather impressive, though.

"It's nearly nine o'clock," Jade chattered on. "I thought about waking you, but Darling, you do sleep like a log. Oh, and you were correct, as far as the ice goes. Around seven thirty, the guards made such a racket, knocking -- I simply could not believe you slept through it! Either way, they have supplied us with plenty of ice and a few perishable items -- we have milk now, and a bit of cheese. Mum -- the Queen, I mean, sent some more fresh fruit. And water for bathing, they sent that too. Oh, it isn't so bad really--"

I did my best not to growl or cut her off. We had cheese and a quart of milk. Whoop de do. We were still locked in this goddamn tower, and probably about to die of disease or hypothermia. But hey, at least we had dairy.

I sat on the barrel in front of the fire, shivering. I was looking forward to taking a bath in some nice hot, boiled water. What was it like to be warm? I could hardly remember.

Jade had wrapped herself in a fluffy bathrobe, a matching pair of slippers on her feet. When she saw me shaking, she rushed out of the room and returned with an equally fuzzy blanket in tow. She draped it around my shoulders and went back to cooking.

I watched her, wondering when we would talk about it. We couldn't go on pretending it was just the two of us up here for long, could we?

I wondered what she wanted to name hers. I was thinking something like Ruby, maybe. Ruby and Emerald and Scarlett and Jade, locked up in a tower cause they couldn't behave . . . if I knew how, I would have written that down and called it a couplet.

Perhaps I would ask Jade to teach me how to read. We had plenty of free time ahead of us, didn't we? Why not? There were books in the tower -- at least I'd have a way to entertain myself.

Jade kept a journal. I knew because I'd seen it lying around a few times. She knew I couldn't read it, so she had no reason to hide it away. I watched her flip the potato pancakes, wondering what she wrote about in there. Me? Maybe. Emerald or Ruby or whatever its name was?

"Oh, they're done!" Jade exclaimed. She pushed the cupboard open, producing two wooden plates. Untying the strings, she dumped the contents of the pan onto the plates. "Here you are, dear. Eat up, you need your strength."

I wondered if she was making a subtle allusion to our pregnancy. "You're in a good mood today," I noted.

Jade smiled. "It's a lovely morning, Scarlett. No need to be upset about it."