Survived By Secrets

9 • Dinner With the Devil

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Nancy placed the glass cups on the table, just like her mom would. She went back into the kitchen and opened the drawer filled with knives, forks, and spoons. She pulled out a few then placed them beside the plates.

She put her hands on her hips, looking at the fully set table, proud of the work she had done.

"That was quick. I left for two minutes," Wallace said.

"I learned from the best," she answered. She stared up at her father as he walked into the dining room.

"Get changed, we have company," he said. He looked down at his watch.

Nancy ran upstairs to her room. She walked past her small bed with flower-patterned bedding to her closet. She grabbed a dress and put it on.

Soon she could hear a knock on the door downstairs. So she ran back down the stairs, her bare feet tapping against the wooden steps.

In the doorway stood a tall man. He held out his hand to shake Myrtle's who had answered the door. She hesitated but then eventually shook his hand. He entered the house and Myrtle gestured him towards the dining room.

"Darrel! Have a seat," Wallace said. Darrel went to one of the chairs and sat down.

"He's not that bad. Leave it behind." Nancy could hear her father whisper to her mother.

"How could you invite him over after what we talked about?"

"He's my business partner." Their eyes then darted to Nancy as she stood there watching them. Wallace looked at her bare feet and then said, "Nancy put on your shoes."

Myrtle sighed as she folded her arms. Then she walked back into the kitchen. Nancy went to the closet beside the front door and grabbed her black shoes. She put them on and then ran to the dining room.

Soon Lawrence came into the dining room and then took a seat. Then Nancy pulled out a chair beside him and climbed onto it, her feet hovering above the ground.

When everyone was seated Myrtle was the first to speak. "For dinner, I made chicken with potatoes."

She then turned around and brought a plate with chicken on it from the countertop. Later a bowl of potatoes was also brought to the table. She took some from the bowl and put them onto Nancy and Lawrence's plates. Then she brought a long bottle, with dark liquid inside, to the table. It was poured into tall glasses only the adults had. The bright red liquid swished around the glass as it was poured from the bottle. Then she went over to where Wallace sat. His hand wrapped around the glass as she poured the liquid into it. Some spilled on his hand and he took up a napkin from the table and wiped off the red stain it left on it.

"Sorry," she said.

"It's fine." His jaws slightly clenched. They started eating in silence.

"How are you, Nancy?" Darrel asked.

"I'm good," she replied and then continued eating.

"How about you, Lawrence, how's school?"

"Good." Lawrence looked down at his plate.

"He has really high marks," Wallace said, breaking the awkwardness. "He gives our family a good image."

"So," Darrel started. "You planning on taking over Wallace's business?"

"We shouldn't really talk about the business at the table. Besides I think he's more interested in doing something else," Wallace said. Nancy shifted in her chair, already getting bored of the conversation.

"And what's that?"

Lawrence looked up from his plate. "I want to be a detective."

"Oh," Darrel raised his eyebrows. "Any reason?"

Nancy looked over at Lawrence. He put his hands in his lap and looked away from Darrel's gaze. Then he shrugged his shoulders and his eyes went back to his plate.

The table was quiet and it stayed like that for a while. It didn't take long for Nancy to finish her food. And she swung her legs as she played with the scraps left in her plate with her fork. Then soon everyone was done eating. Myrtle stacked everyone's plates, bringing them to the kitchen.

They all got up from the table and Darrel went out the front door, waving his hand, as Wallace told him, "Goodnight."

Nancy climbed the stairs, Lawrence in front of her. "He doesn't seem bad," Nancy whispered. Lawrence turned to look at her, his moss-coloured eyes wide.

"How did you-"

"I saw you write down his name on the paper. I don't know what he did but it was bad right?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Why?"

"Well, first I don't know if he did what I think he did," he answered. "Second, you're too young. It's just better if you don't know."

"It can't be that bad."

He didn't say anything else. He drew his lips in a thin line then turned to walk to his bedroom. He opened the door and before he closed it, he turned to Nancy and said, "Goodnight."

Without answering him she went to her bedroom too. She sat down on her bed and looked out her window framed with thin white curtains. It was night and she could still see the dark fluffy clouds covering the moon. The moon's light making them appear to glow in the sky.

She wanted to be like those clouds. Free. With enough imagination, they could look like anything to anyone.

And she was like those clouds. Still and uninteresting to anyone that wouldn't pay attention. But when someone stops and looks for a while, they would see the clouds moving and they would see the things those clouds could be.

No one would pay attention to her though. She was too young. She had always noticed the whispering of her parents and the fake smiles. Something was going on and no one would tell her what it was. She was too young.