The Firefly

6°

On that sunny day, Mrs Holland was absent, immersed in preparations for moving house.

I would have to face the day alone, a challenge that seemed as stimulating as it was disturbing.

A primordial rule dominated my relationship with Jake: do not disturb him unless I was called, but I could no longer accept that the food I brought him was barely tasted.

I had felt compelled to talk to Mrs Holland about it, but she had reiterated by saying that he occasionally had these 'moments' and would soon regain his normal appetite.

But his resigned appearance suggested that these moments were quite frequent.

The door was only lightly touched, an announcement of the impending entrance.

Accustomed to performing many activities on his own during his four years of blindness, Jake had developed considerable independence.

I merely drove him from room to room, not even having to worry about making his bed, thanks to colleagues who were constantly tidying up the house.

However, that day, I intended to break the monotony.

Jake was lying on the bed, still in the same position.

When I entered he immediately raised his head. -Who is it?-

I approached, sure of what I was going to tell him. -It's Amber.-

He didn't bother to get up.

-What do you want? -His voice, slurred and disinterested, seemed to want to convey nothing but boredom.

He barely touched the scar on his lips.

-That you eat everything, and by everything I mean everything I have prepared for you.-

He raised an eyebrow, never opening his eyes. He remained silent.

I approached him, crossing my arms and nailing him with my gaze.

-I won't take no for an answer this time.- There was silence for a few seconds.

Jake clicked his tongue on his palate a few times, shaking his head. -You know I could fire you instantly, right?-

-You won't.- I had thought it over all the night before so now I was ready. With a script well memorised in my head.

-Why not?-

-Because I need you as much as you need me.- I began, he continued to listen to me without replying.

-I need this job, my uncle's future is worth it. You need me if you don't want to starve.- I was surprised to see him chuckle.

-Even other people know how to cook besides you, are you aware of that?

-But no one would tell you what I am telling you, I am sure. Everyone would indulge you and not eating would cause you serious health problems.-

He shook his head and I had the impression that my words had gone in one ear and out the other. -If I eat then will you leave me alone?-

-Yes, get up and follow me into the kitchen.- I said again, approaching him and offering my left arm.

He said nothing, but the ravenous growling of his stomach was eloquent enough to indicate his acceptance.

I realised how his cheeks had turned a slight blush when he realised I had heard his stomach growl.

The room was small, the white glass table was in the middle and occupied most of the space, two large windows overlooking the garden illuminated the room, and there were many green plants in the four corners kept lush by Mr Busch, the gardener.