The Deion

Chapter 4

The Deion

Chapter 4: First Meeting

"Whoa!" Heather, Mark, and Remmy said in unison as they entered the apartment. They stared around the clean space in amazement.

Etrama smiled.

"It's so-" Mark started to say.

"Big?" Heather asked.

"Expensive-looking?" Remmy offered, inspecting the big T.V. on the wall.

"I was going to say clean!" Mark answered, eyeing the apartment once more. "This is not a teenager's house."

"True that," Heather and Remmy said.

Etrama sighed and walked inside. He shut the door behind him, locking it.

"I'm going to buy groceries for dinner," he said, putting his stuff down. The children looked at him strangely.

"Groceries?" Remmy asked.

"Dinner?" Heather asked puzzled a little.

"Yes!" Mark punched the air. "Free food!"

"Ah-yes," Etrama muttered but no one except for Reizel heard him. "Hamburger for Master."

"Thank you, Etrama."

"I'm rather... worried about leaving Master here by himself."

"Thank you for your consideration."

"It won't take more than an hour, at most."

"I will be fine."

"Alright," Etrama said nervously. He glanced at the children who were lounging on the sofa. They looked extremely happy. They stared intently at the T.V. screen. Remmy held the remote and changed the channel to a technology show. Heather tried to grab the remote from his hand. She succeeded and switched it to another channel. Remmy frowned and tried to take it back. Etrama gritted his teeth.

He went into his room-he'd never let anyone in there-and changed out of his school clothes and into a casual sweater. He opened the door and found Reizel sitting awkwardly on the sofa, wedged between Heather and Remmy who were still fighting over the remote. He shot him an apologetic look but, as always, Reizel remained stoic. Though they were all sitting together on the leather sofa, Reizel seemed aloof from the other two.

He realized that Mark wasn't there. He looked around and found a foot sticking out from the pantry. Mark emerged with a handful of snacks. Etrama's eyes widened as he popped a bag of popcorn into the microwave. He cursed himself for buying the wretched thing in the first place. The buttery smell of popcorn filled the air. His stomach churned as he pictured the butter getting everywhere. He calmed himself and decided to deal with it when it came.

He left his house as quickly as he could. He pressed the button to open the elevator. He stepped into it as it opened. He pressed the button for the ground floor. He waited, listening to the vague elevator music. It was a song he recognized-from almost three decades ago. He hummed to it, letting the strange nostalgic melody calm him.