Sparks

Chapter 21

As soon as I walk in the door, Jacob grabs my arm and starts dragging me across the house.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I sputter indignantly. He doesn't respond. "Is this about the pizza or something? I'm sorry, I got hungry." He lets go of my arm only when we're in front of a door I haven't ever really paid attention to before. I snatch my aching limb away and rub at the sore spot, glaring. "What's up with you today?" He sighs.

"It occurred to Carrie and I while you were gone that we don't have a prison sufficient to hold it. So we're making one."

"What? Why would we be imprisoning Sparky? I assume we're talking about that." He rolls his eyes.

"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock. Come on." He opens the door and starts walking down a very, very dark set of stairs.

"Why's it so dark down here?"

"Just today Carrie and I removed all the electrical wiring and such from this area. Now we're covering basically all of it in a coating of cement. We're trying to not let her get access to metal at all." I nod slowly.

"And I suppose I'm helping with that?"

"Yes."

"But how will we see?" He sighs.

"So many questions. We're using candles and Carrie is currently making an oil lamp." It would seem that now I am at the bottom of the stairs. It's so dark in here, I can't tell. I bite my lip nervously.

"You know, this may not be the time, but you've really been kind of mean lately," I quietly remark. He scowls as he turns on a flashlight.

"Right. Because as of right now I'm trying to keep all of humanity from dying horrifically. I've been getting, like, six hours of sleep a night. It's a wonder I've not been more snappy." I nod slowly.

"Sorry." He points at a bucket and then at some cement powder.

"There's a tap along that wall. Fill up the bucket according to the instructions and then start on that same wall with the tap. We need a solid layer of concrete, probably at least half an inch, on any wall it could touch." I nod. "Oh, and there are some rocks in the other bucket. Mix half of them with your cement."

The faucet on the far wall looks like it's seen better days but when I turn the tap water sure does come out. Good enough for who it's for. I fill the bucket according to handy included markings and dump in the cement powder and then half of the rock bucket, which also had a lot of sand in it.

"Hey Jacob, what's the sand for? Does it go in too?" He sighs.

"It's called aggregate, it adds stability. Add half the sand and half the rocks." I follow his instructions and begin to mix. Jacob throws me an apron and some really long yellow rubber gloves. "Don't want you ruining your clothes." I nod and continue to mix until it's a thick paste. Then I grab a trowel and just start slapping it on the walls inside the cell. I giggle at the noise it makes. It's kind of therapeutic, despite the wet thwack sound that happens every time I stick on another trowel full.

Thwack.

Thwack.

I laugh every time it slaps the wall. Eventually, Jacob looks over.

"You look like you're having fun."

"Yeah. It's really lumpy when I spread it out though, is it supposed to do that?" He nods.

"That'd be the rocks. This really isn't the generally intended use for concrete. Usually, they make a mold and pour it in so the outsides are smooth." I nod. Makes sense.