Fettered

Birth of Pers

Somehow, she wound up sitting next to Lucas at the dinner table, holding hands with him and his mother. The entire table hung their heads and Marguerite said grace, which made her squirm a bit. She'd never had to say grace before and awkwardly announced the 'Amen' part after everyone else had. Luckily, no one said anything and instead spooned the jambalaya out for themselves. She sat and fiddled with her fingers, noting the sausage and shrimp inside the dish. When she was the last one with an empty bowl, Marguerite frowned.

"What's wrong, dear?"
"Uh... I don't eat meat, ma'am."
Jack looked at her with knitted brow. "Not even shrimp?"
"Nope. Seafood is meat."
"Always knew you ate like a rabbit," Lucas said.
"Hood down, boy," Jack demanded.
Hood went down.
"Oh," Marguerite said, clearly trying to be understanding. "Well... Don't you worry none, I have some steamed vegetables I can make for you." She stood.
"Oh no, I couldn't ask you to get up from your dinner."
Marguerite smiled. "It isn't right for us to eat while you go hungry, dear."

So she was forced to sit there even more awkwardly as she waited for Marguerite to return to the table.

"So what do you eat?" Jack asked.
Lucas chimed in, nose crinkled. "Raw carrots."
She shot Lucas a nasty look. "I eat more than just carrots. I made myself some three-bean chili last night. And I can make an out-of-this-world pizza pocket."
"So you eat cheese?" Jack questioned.
"No, sir."
"Where are you from that you don't eat cheese on your pizza?"
"Well, Chicago, but plenty of people eat cheese there. I'm just not one of them. And there is cheese on my pizza, it's just alternatives, made from cashews and stuff."
Lucas piped up dryly, "Weird."
She gently kicked him under the table.
Marguerite rounded the corner, chuckling. "I wouldn't mind trying your pizza pocket one day, Persephone, if you'd grace us with some."
Jack nodded, adding, "Yeah, sounds, er... Different."

Probably noticing her squirming and fiddling, Marguerite asked her, "So where did you learn to cook, dear?"
"Self-taught. My mom's not exactly... Reliable. So I've been having to cook ever since I was a kid. Graduated from cereal and microwavable garbage to actual food eventually. Plus, looking things up on the Internet helps."

Marguerite asked some particularly boring questions from what Persephone surmised was a strange girl sitting in her kitchen — like what she used instead of egg in her baking or what she ate besides pizza pockets and salads. She told them how Terry once woke up and drunkenly ate an entire tray of cookies Persephone had made for Ronald's birthday.

"After that, well, those cookies looked a lot better going in, if you know what I mean. 'Course, maybe that was the booze."
"Well, that's," Marguerite paused, probably doing a mental search for the right words. "A lovely story."
"Not if you ask my dad."
Marguerite then stood. "Oh, I'd better get those veggies, they're certainly done by now."

Silence at the table. Great, her story was a little too nasty for dinner. If they thought the story was gross, they should've been there when it happened. Jack had a rather funny look on his face as he stared down into his food. She wasn't used to entertaining people for dinner and it didn't seem to be her forte, but Lucas's tightened lips made it seem as though he was trying not to laugh.

Marguerite walked back in with a bowl of mixed vegetables soon after, putting it in front of her.

"Thank you," she said with a forced smile.
"I should get some good stuff to put in the fridge for when you come over next," Marguerite said, sitting.
Jack cleared his throat, getting everyone's attention. "Speakin' of, you an' Lucas should tell me 'bout that project you been workin' on."
Lucas said, deadpan, "It's a giant slingshot."


Persephone had a particularly not filling dinner that evening of steamed carrots, broccoli, and peas, and a warmed can of spinach. All good stuff, topped with some freshly ground salt and pepper, but not the most filling of foods. To the best of their abilities, she and Lucas had tried to explain their idea, and Jack'd had a good laugh when Lucas asked to use the old truck, but eventually agreed.

She helped the family clean up the table after dinner, bringing all the dishes to Marguerite and offering to wipe things down. When she got out her phone to take a look at the time, she noticed how late it was. 7:38 pm. Ronald was off work. Great, he'd been expecting her back earlier than that. She hoped he wouldn't be too pissed. Rather than taking the bus home, which had been her original plan, she tried to call him, but didn't have good service inside the home. Lucas had peeked over her shoulder.

"Might get better service on the porch," he said, then took her down the hallway.
"Sorry for getting dragged into staying," she said. "I know you didn't want me to."
He shrugged. "Whatever."

She stood out on the porch with him, watching a heavy rain pour from beyond the awning. The wind whipped cold that evening, making her shiver and giving her goosebumps. She quickly called Ronald but it went straight to voicemail. She called again and again to the same, and she tried to call Terry as well, figuring it would be a lost cause. Except, this night, she actually got a response.

"Heeeey, baby," Terry cooed. "Where're you?"
"I'm at a friend's house. Where's Dad?"
"Dunno, still at work, Ah think."
"It's seven-thirty, Dad gets off work at six."
Terry giggled. "Meybeh he'ssstayin' late."
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Can you call him?"
No response.
"Mom."
Nothing.
"Mom."
Light snoring.
"MOM!"
Still just snoring.
"Oh, goddammit." Persephone hung up.

"What's the problem?" Lucas asked.
"Mom's a dumb drunk and Dad's a no-show."
He opened the door for her and let her back in the house.
"Guess I'll have to catch the bus," she said, not looking forward to the long trek.
"I ain't lettin' you walk in that rain, Pers."
She turned to him, head cocked. "Pers? What am I, a handbag?"
His face turned red. "Okay, know what? Yer walkin'."
"Aw, come on, I'm kidding, it's cute. Pers. I could get used to hearing you call me that."
She didn't think his blush could turn any darker but that did it, she could even see it in his ears.
"So what's your plan, big guy?"
Lucas cleared his throat, gaze finally breaking from her. "Was gonna drive ya myself."
"I couldn't make you drive out in that storm."
"Yer not makin' me, I want to."

He led her back to the kitchen where Jack and Marguerite were finishing the dishes together.

"Ma, Dad, I'm gonna drive Pers back home."
"All right, son," said Jack. "You be careful out there, was rainin' pretty hard by the time I got home. An' bring the truck back in one piece."
"It was very nice meeting you, Persephone," Marguerite said sweetly.
"Absolutely," said Jack. "Y'all come back any time you want, young lady."
"Thank you. Nice meeting you both."

She and Lucas headed down the stairs to the garage, which held a two-seater truck and a family SUV. He reached into his pocket for his keys, using one of the key fobs to unlock the doors to the truck, which was a little old and fairly low to the ground, making it easy to climb into.

Her seat felt a bit lumpy and a dusty scent permeated the air. Seemed the family tried to hide the smell behind tree air fresheners and a plug-in on the vents. The smell from the plug-in released when Lucas turned the truck on and cool air blew through. He promptly shut the air off, then tuned into his phone to play metal on the radio, keeping the volume low. Persephone wondered if he kept the music low so they could talk, but he didn't initiate conversation at all until they reached the front gate.

"Gotta unlock the gate, hold on," he said.

Once the gate was locked back up behind them, he made the drive down the dirt road, splashing through large puddles that she could feel made them hydroplane.

"Fuck, it's so flooded," Lucas grumbled.
"Are you sure you wanna drive me home? There's so much rain out here."
"We should be fine," he said, though he didn't sound particularly sure.

In the residential area about a mile from the house, the roads had flooded out. Thunder and lightning cracked along the skies, rain so heavy that it drowned out the music on the radio. The road they were going to turn onto was so flooded that Lucas turned around to try a back road he knew of instead. Getting cold inside of the car, she fiddled with the knobs and turned the heat on low, shivering. The back road he tried had also flooded through, water so high that it engulfed the tires of the cars parked along the street.

Lucas strummed his fingers along the steering wheel. "A' course, all these roads are goin' downhill."
"The buses aren't even running," Persephone said, seeing the bus stop she'd planned on taking. It was near the scheduled time for it, but no one in their right mind would be waiting at the stop in this weather.
"What do you wanna do, then?" Lucas asked.
"Drop me off here and I'll swim home," she joked.

Lucas laughed. Finally, after her best efforts and her greatest jokes, she got him. It was a light chuckle but a hearty one, and a sound that made her want to melt with glee.

He said, "Now that I gotta see."
After they finished laughing at her stupid joke, she said, "Maybe we should just head back. Think your folks'll let me crash on the couch or something?"
"Prolly. 'Long as you don' tell more vomit stories."

They laughed again and he turned the truck around to make the treacherous drive back home, which was slightly uphill thus slightly less flooded. Lucas drove one-handed, other arm across the center console's armrest. Heavy metal still played in the background.

He asked, "Like metal?"
"Sure, it's some of my favorite music."
"Bitchin'. Know this band?"

They got on the subject of music, exchanging band names and their genres. Lucas liked industrial and thrash metal the most and she revealed her love of melodic death metal. But when she told him some of her favorite metal was folk, Lucas laughed.

She laughed, too. "Shut up, folk metal is awesome."
He shook his head, smiling. "Whatever ya say, Pers."
She glanced down at his hand hanging in the air from the armrest. Their skin met as she placed her hand atop his. "I really like it when you call me that, Lucas."


Her gesture made him go quiet again but he didn't move away. She was really making this hard on him, wasn't she? He didn't want to get close to her but the more time they spent together, even when he was nasty and standoffish, the more he liked her and the more she seemed to like him. For whatever reason. He had no idea why she'd give him the time of day, let alone hold his hand and run her thumb along his skin. Her hand was so soft and warm — for a moment, he imagined himself running his fingers through her hair, which surely was also soft and warm.

He had to bite his tongue when he found himself wanting to tell her how happy he was that she'd stayed for dinner, the words catching in his throat. He shook it off and focused on the drive. When he reached the gate, he didn't want to get out of the truck. It would force him to move his hand from hers, force her to stop her tender touch, but he had no choice.

After he'd parked and they'd made it inside, they went up the garage steps and back into the dining room. Jack and his mom were through the other side, in the living room and watching the 8 o'clock news. His mom stood and headed toward the dining room to greet them.

"Oh, good, Jack, they're all right," she said. "We just saw on the news how bad it is out there."
"Yeah," said Lucas, "I couldn' get anywhere n' we decided it was best t' just turn around."

He walked past her and into the living room with Jack to ask if Pers could stay.