Science, Eternal Life, and a Traveling Circus |1|

Chapter Five

For the first time in months, Abraham felt bloated. He hadn't been able to finish his half-portion of rice, filled to contentment with barely half said share. He'd eaten three meals that day. Three small meals that brought color to his cheeks. He hiccuped and blushed. It felt so good to be spoiled after so long. He had no intention of telling them that he could offer no recompense.

"Again, Mr Walters, I apologize for not giving you better care in your state," William Octienne said.

"There are no relief teachers in West Haven, unfortunately," continued his wife, Jen. The couple were opposites. Him, dark-skinned and neatly dressed and she, fair-skinned and freckled with rag-like attire. "We must be with our students during the day, doing what we can."

Abraham peered between them through hooded eyes. They did most of the talking. He had spent the better half of his day alone, sleeping off an extraordinary hangover, and recovering from his restless months of travel. William had appeared briefly to fix him lunch, and then left him to himself. How they trusted him so easily in their home, he could not fathom. William had even allowed Abraham the use of his razor. Used to an electric razor, Abraham had riddled his face with shallow cuts. Small cloth swabs stuck to his face.

"I'll mix you some medicines tomorrow, if you can tell me what ails you," William offered. "Speed up your recovery."

"Oh, how kind." Abraham did wonder when they would realize that he could give nothing to them. He had learned from a very young age that to give was to take. Generosity was simply a form of trading; something was always expected in return. Pity for them. He would milk them of all they had until he could move on, back to the city. He had plans for when his strength returned.

"I have an oculist friend on my level at the college," Jen said. "I could ask her to make some new lenses for your glasses."

"Truly? You are a godsend, ma'am. I have the eyes of a mole."

They'd moved from the dining table to the fireplace purely for his comfort. He'd eaten his meal in an armchair before the flames, pampered like a house cat, nearly put to sleep by the soothing warmth. Jen sat in another armchair, while William had pulled a stool from a cupboard for himself. The couple finished off their servings and the husband took in the plates.

"I'll put this away for your lunch tomorrow," he beamed to his guest.

"Oh, thank you." Abraham blearily watched his rice go. He found it strange that there was no wall separating the lounge from the kitchen and dining area. It was all one dreadfully plain room.

Jen drew a well-used notebook from her pocket. The woman was covered from head to toe in black grease and oil and soot. Filth slicked strands of her curly orange hair and stained the purple bandanna that held her fiery mane out of her freckled, smudged face. Abraham had wondered about her state since she had walked in the door that evening, but hadn't asked. William barely seemed to notice, so Abraham assumed it was nothing out of the ordinary for the Octienne household.

Boiler trouble at their workplace, perhaps? Abraham thought.

She had been perfectly clean in the morning. "Besides undernourishment, is there anything bothering you? Any wounds? Anything hurt? Do you feel faint, at all? We'll make a list for Will."

Abraham didn't let his smile show. How could he resist such thoughtful care? He didn't hesitate to exaggerate.

***

Alyn crouched by the dying fire and watched the embers pulse against the dark. Earlier in the evening, the corpses had been reduced to pulpy red and black charred skeletons and ash. The buzz of flies had waned, many burned, many fled. Alyn could barely recognize the mess as bodies anymore.