The Fire Guardians

Chapter 8

Chapter 8: 

                Two women came in carrying large platters of food. They set them on the table and a third women set drinks beside them. The table was barely large enough to hold this, and I was almost sure the legs would give out supporting the weight of the food.  The three women stayed, and watched us. They were trying to hide their proud smiles, but were as successful as a giggly schoolgirl. Tyson reached across the table and grabbed a beer. The women’s eyes widened and they all held their breath to see what Tyson thought of the meal. Tyson popped it open, and sighed.

                The women’s face’s fell and they wondered what could possibly be wrong. Hell, I wanted to know what was wrong. This meal seemed fantastic.

                “Was putting the drinks in the fridge that hard? No one wants a warm freaking beer,” Tyson said, slamming the beer down. A chorus of apologizes tumbled from the women’s mouth as they collected all the drinks.

                “If we have another problem-,” Tyson began slowly.

                “-There won’t be another problem, sir,” the one women said nervously. Tyson smiled as the women exited the room. Roman grabbed a grape off one of the plates and popped it in his mouth.

                “Is it suitable?” Tyson asked skeptically.

                Roman shrugged his shoulders, and Tyson said, “I mean, can’t those servants do anything right. The chef makes a delicious meal, and those idiots have to screw it up. I can’t eat anything without a drink, first. Those servants better come back real soon if they still want a job.” I observed the gigantic amount of food spread along the table, and my heart sank. Margret and her son were living on wormy apples and bread that shouldn’t be consumed by anyone. Yet, we had a feast laid before us.

                I grabbed a grape and threw it in my mouth. I was curious to see if the food was as disgusting as it seemed. That grape tasted God-sent. It was probably the best grape I’d ever had. Roman had shrugged his shoulders, while Tyson freaked out over the beer being warm. Audrey wasn’t even looking at the food, and Everett was eating a pear while writing rapidly.

                Oh, right. I still had to work on what I’d write. I stared at the paper a moment before the women returned with a new case of beer.

                “These are cold, right?” Tyson asked. The women nodded.

                While one set the beer by Tyson, another said, “We are required to take a survey about the meal. We need just one person’s opinion-,”

                “-delicious and I think you all did a wonderful job,” I said quickly, not letting anyone else speak first.

                The three women all beamed, and I asked, “What are your names?”

                The women blushed, and looked at each other, smiling. Tyson said coldly, “Servants are to be dismissed.” The women’s faces returned to normal and they left.

                “We do not speak with servants in such manner,” Tyson said, popping the lid on the beer.

                “You mean with respect?” I spat.

                “They are servants. You are a guardian. Learn your role in this society,” Tyson took a swig of the beer.

                “And you’re some type of government official. If I were you I’d watch what I’d say.”