The Essence of Water

OLD VERSION Chapter 3

              Henry is already sitting in his chair at the head of the table. Gretchen is dishing him out a generous portion of mashed potatoes. Henry's two sheep dogs Missy and Jack are eating their dinner out of their bowls in the corner. The kitchen is warm and smells like potatoes and butter. I take my seat in the chair closest to the hallway and Gretchen dishes me out some potatoes as well. There is one good thing living in this household, I've never gone hungry. Gretchen and Henry successfully raised two children of their own and they believe whole heartedly that good homemade meals are a big help in that area. Even though they believe I'm a lost cause I'm still fed  like I'm a nineteen year old man instead of a seventeen year old girl.

              When we are all finally ready to eat there's lamb, green beans, squash, and mashed potatoes spilling over my plate. No one says anything, we simply dig in. Jack come and lies at my feet and missy goes to Henry. Jack actually likes me. Missy tolerates my existence, same as everyone else in this house. They know they will be fed scraps, mostly by me since I wouldn't be able to finish my dinner even if I wanted to. I'm famished from today's excitement, but it's still not enough to get me to eat all of my dinner.

              "It's going to rain tonight." Henry says. I look up at him. He's got short gray hair that he keeps under an old plaid cap when he's not in the house. He almost always wears old knee high rubber barn boots and warm wool clothes. I can't blame him, if I were outside with sheep all day I'd wear the same thing.

              "Will you have to bring the sheep down from the upper pasture?" Gretchen asks.

              Henry nods, "I'm going back out after I finish here. I can't risk losing a flock because I was too lazy to go get them."

              Gretchen nods and we go back to eating our dinner. In the end I've given nearly everything to Jack who eats without complaint. I'm grateful he's not a picky eater otherwise I'd be stuck with green beans and squash until Judgment Day. In the end I wash the dinner dishes and Henry puts on his cap and whistles to the dogs. They run out the door and hop into the back of Henry's old truck without question and Henry give Gretchen a kiss before leaving. Gretchen works silently with me by drying the dishes and putting them back. I've never dried the dishes. Gretchen doesn't trust me to put anything back in its proper place. Or maybe she thinks I'll try to steal the silverware, not that it's even made of real silver. When we finish Gretchen puts a piece of apple pie on a small plate and gives it to me. It's the first act of kindness she's shown me all week so I sit at the table and eat every crumb even though I'm stuffed from dinner. She wiped off the counters and sweeps the floor and I clean my dirty plate and fork when I finish.

              I go up to my room and change into my pajama's. I take one of the novels I found from Gretchen's bookshelf and open to my last dog-eared page. The pages smell moist and they are browned with age, but there is nothing else to do before I go to bed so I put myself through the horribly written romance until I eventually fall asleep.

              I wake up to a storm. Henry hadn't been kidding when he said it was going to rain. I jerk awake and the book falls from my bed and onto the floor. My bedside lamp is still on and I rub my eyes. Outside I hear the rain batter the house and thunder in the distance. I turn off my light and go to my window. It's one hell of a storm. Except for the occasional lighting I can't see a thing through the rain. The dark silhouette of the backyard and barn are illuminated for a quick half second as another lightning bolt cracks in the distance followed quickly by the thunder. I leaned closer to the glass pane and when another bolt of lightning flashes across the sky my eyes are fixed on the spot where Henry parks his truck.

              The spot is empty.

              I turn and look at my alarm clock, it's just past midnight. Henry should have been home by now. Maybe he just parked his truck at the barn. If he brought the sheep down from the pasture then he would have had to walk back down the road to pick up his truck. I slip out of my bedroom door, carefully placing my feet and sliding my weight so the floors shift underneath without squeaking. But I'm not too worried, Henry is the light sleeper, and Gretchen probably wouldn't hear me over the storm. I slip down the banister and go to the kitchen. I know something is wrong immediately.