Blind Eyes

Chapter Nine

When I look out the window the next morning, I see that it has stopped raining, although it is still damp and grey outside. I bathe quickly and dress up, wearing my thickest clothes, as the days are beginning to get colder. My father is not home again this morning, and I wonder whether he is at work or somewhere else, perhaps he has gone out for food, or perhaps he is talking to Thomas.

I look at the edge of the counter, where my mother's list should be, a list that lay on the same spot on the counter for every Sunday as long as I can remember. But it is not there. I do not bother making a list because I would not even know what to put on the list, and it would feel wrong. I decide that I still should go to the market. I'm sure it will comfort me to do such a familiar errand, and my father and I will need food for the week.

I open the door to the house and jump back a bit as I see a crow sitting on the ground right in front of the door, staring right at me. I pull my leg back and pretend to kick it, stopping my foot just as it is about to hit it, but the bird does not flinch and does not move. I decide that it is probably in my best interest to ignore it; I do not want to anger Will, and I doubt it will make a difference whether his crows follow me or not. Will seems to know everything about me anyways.

When I reach the market, something about it feels different. I feels less alive, less joyful, but maybe that is just how I feel. I walk through the stands, buying whatever food I think my father would like. I buy vegetables, meat, apples, the only fruit available in this town and the only fruit I have ever eaten, and some oats. When the fabric bag I have taken with me is filled to the brim, weighing down on my arm, I make my way over to the bakery, my last stop, where I intend to buy a loaf of bread and some breakfast as well.

As I enter, I see that it is busy like usual, but not as busy as it was yesterday. The line is shorter, and there is only one person in front of me. I look at the array of baked goods, deciding what I want to eat, and picking out my loaf of bread. After I have decided on what I would like to get, I look around the bakery and spot Will sitting at a table in the back, the same table he sat at the first time I saw him. He is reading the newspaper, and, if I didn't know better, I would think he hadn't even noticed me.

The woman in front of me has finished ordering, so I step up to the worker. This whole situation feels strangely familiar as I realize that the worker is also the same worker from the day of the funeral; it makes me feel on edge. Of course, it is not that strange, as I have seen this particular worker almost every time I come to the bakery.

"What can I get for you?" he asks, smiling, kind of nervously.

"Can I have a loaf of white bread?" I say. "And a chocolate croissant with coffee as well."

"Of course," he says as I begin to take money out of my coat pocket. "I've seen you around here quite a lot," he continues. "You like the food?"

"Yeah, yeah I do," I say, surprised at his attempt at conversation.

"Me too," he says, taking the money that I hand him. "Can I know your name?"

"Lara." I think that maybe I should ask for his as well, to be polite, but I decide not to.

"Nice to meet you Lara." He hands me my change. "I'm Lukas."

"Nice to meet you too," I reply, casting a look at Will, who still reads his paper, apparently uninterested in my presence. I put the change into my pocket, then back at Lukas, who has turned around to put the loaf of bread in a paper bag. He slides the loaf in and hands it to me; I put it into my bag.

"So, look," he says, tapping his fingers on the counter. "Feel free to say no, but I was wondering if you'd like to get some food with me sometime. Maybe here since we both like the food?"