Rebuilt

Chapter 27

The water felt nice, it was almost too hot. But since I didn't know how to cool it down I grit and bare it until my body adjusted. I washed my hair just how Oscar suggested, trying to remember the exact motions he demonstrated with his short but feasible curls. I also found a body scrub and a sponge, the scent was much more citrus based as compared to Elmer's floral. I hadn't though of Elmer much since this morning, though granted its only been an hour or two. I don't quite understand why he ran off in the manor that he did, and quite frankly I don't know if I ever will. It's his fault for being so closed minded and such a bigot, and I can't change that. Or at least I keep telling myself that.

After figuring out how to turn off the shower, I palm my hand across the counter looking for the towel Oscar set out. I slowly swipe the cloth against my frail body drying up all the leftover water droplets that I didn't shake off two minuets prior. I step out careful not to slip on the sick floor of the bathroom, walking over to the vanity I look up in the fogged mirror and can barley make out what was in front of me. All I saw was the white towel wrapped around my chest and my damp curls framing my face. Fine by me.

A pile of freshly folded clothes sit nicely on the counter, Oscar must have slipped in and put them here. I pan through them. A basic white shirt, a creme checkered skirt, a pair of socks that seemed way too long, and a bra and underwear. Those must have been his moms, I try not to think too much about wearing his moms underwear. Tossing on the new clothes, I gently hang the towel over the glass shower door and bend over picking up my nastily dirtied up Refuge clothes. I don't think I've ever felt this clean in my life, Oscar was right to take a shower. It really does feel good.

I quickly fold up my tattered shirt and garments and place them on a small corner of the counter, trying not to look at them for too long. I hold the cap Elmer gave me in his hands and place it neatly on top. I leave the shoes on the ground next to the toilet. I crimp my long hair between my fingers, even though it was freshly washed I still feel it crunch because the the ends that have long since been dead.

The brass door handle eased open as I gently pushed through the door and eased into the hallway, looking left and right I gain my bearings. Slick against the wooden floors, I practically slide my way into the kitchen where Oscar was hovered over making a snack. He turned to me, "well, well, well. I thought you slipped and hit your head. You were in there so long!"

I look at my wrist imagining a watch, "was not."
He shook his head, "nu-uh. You'se were in there and hour. See?" He pointed to the clock hanging above the sink

1:38

"You got in long before 12:30!"

"Yeah, yeah, whateva Oscar." I shoved him aside to see what he was making.

"Your voice sounds nice, I think the steam did it some good," he pointed at his Adam's Apple and then flicked mine. Ignoring him I grab the spoon he was using to mix and poke the strange thing in the pot. "It's oatmeal," he said taking the spoon back from me. He flicked open a cabinet and grabbed a ceramic bowl. "Want some?"

"Lemme try it." Oscar grabbed the spoon and took a little from the pot and handed it to me. I placed it in my mouth and gagged. "No, that's gross."

He laughed, "alrighty then. Note: Blades does not like oatmeal."

"Yeah shout that from the rooftops why don't ya."
The oatmeal landed in the bowl with a splat and I swear some got on me, "So what do you like, princess? Can't let the lady go hungry."

"I like bread," I've definitely had lots of bread.

"Bread? That's it?"

"Well it's not like I get to go taste testing every day and try new foods, is it Delancey?"

He glared at me, "you right. Apologies. If the lady wants bread, ye lady shall have bread." Opening the cabinet he unwrapped a loaf of bread. He quickly sliced up three pieces and placed it on a napkin.

"What? No golden platter? Silver spoons?" I jokingly gapped over the simplicity of just my napkin.

"Oh whateva, follow me?"

Mouth full of bread I ask, "where we goin?" Oscar ended up just leading me back to the bathroom, but this time he hauled a chair in from the table and just plopped me down with my napkin full of bread in front of me. Opening up the drawer he grabbed the pair of scissors from earlier, a comb, and a brush.

"I'm just gonna give you'se a trim, make this hair a bit more healthy and less, refuge-esce." He brushed through my hair top to bottom and then pulled a section away from the rest.

The scissors snipped away the first section of dead hair, "I quite liked the refuge look, thank you."

Oscar stopped cutting, "eat your bread."

I took a large bite of the bread and let the man work. The mirror had cleared from the fog and I got to see Oscar snipping away. And then there was me, with a face full of bread and crumbs lining my mouth. I wiped them away with an arm.

"Stop moving."

I took another bite of bread and obliged as he worked his way up, section by section, and layer by layer. Finally, my head felt lighter as he finished chopping off a good six inches of my hair. Instead of my waist the hair now stopped a little after my shoulders. Opening another drawer Oscar grabbed two elastics and sectioned my hair once again. "Hold this," he said as he placed them in my hand. He worked his way down my head until I had a loose braid fixed against the side of my scalp. He grabbed the band from his open hand and repeated his braid on the other side of my head.

    He blew out a low whistle, "lookin good Blades."

    I looked in the mirror. Looked at who I saw. I didn't feel ashamed. In my opinion I think I looked good. Maybe not good enough to make the boys fancy me, but that wasn't really what I was going for. I smiled, "thank you, Oscar."

    Oscar smiled brightly, it lit up his whole face, "not a problem at all."