Page 48 of The Care of Broken Things
He couldn’t speak. His entire consciousness was focused on the feeling of warm, wet, and endless muscle. Eli seemed to realize what he’d done, and released him with a quick, “sorry,” but it didn’t help much. He shivered and stepped back under the water, but the gooseflesh on his arms and legs lingered. He could feel Eli’s eyes on him, and it was only making things worse until he remembered the man was waiting on an answer. Right. As if Eli would ever look at him just to look at him.
“Not Jenny.”
“Who then?”
“Someone with deeper pockets.”
He held out his hand for the shampoo, but Eli wouldn’t give it to him.
“What did you have to do?”
He opened his eyes, and even with the streaming water he could see Eli was troubled. “Nothing.”
“Don’t give me that. Nothing in this world is free. What did you have to do, Samuel?”
He took the shampoo from Eli’s hands. Hands that had never been idle a day in their life. He took hold of one of them and folded the fingers of it over to form a loose fist. “Not everyone has to work for things, Eli.”
“You expect me to believe that from you of all people?”
Eli sounded pissed, but the man’s anger had no danger in it. Eli would never hurt him. He was sure of it. He released the hand and looked up into that face. “The thing about the system, Eli, is that it works better when people like you—good people—don’t believe it exists.” He found he was smiling. It hurt a bit, but not enough to look away. “It never felt good to take from him. I never earned it. I didn’t deserve it. But if it’s for you—If I use him for your sake—then it isn’t wasted. Please accept it.”
He didn’t think Eli would understand. The man lived in a simpler world where things like fairness and justice weren’t just some big cosmic joke. But Eli didn’t argue with him. He lived in a different world, but that didn’t mean he was blind to other realities. “Okay,” he said and reached for the block of soap. “Okay.”
By the time he and Eli made it to the cafeteria the line for breakfast ran all the way into the hallway. He balked when he saw it, and he was just about to suggest that they come back later, when Rat grabbed his arm. “What are you doing? Everyone’s waiting on you. Hurry up.”
He could only look at Eli as he was dragged forward. “Did you—”
Eli held up his hands. “I didn’t say anything.”
Rat snorted. “No one had to say shit. We all know this gluten-free thing had to be your doing.”
Norm himself was waiting at the counter with the first tray. “Morning, Doc,” he said, and held it out. On the tray was some sliced melon, a bowl of oatmeal, two strips of bacon, fried eggs, a banana and a small salad. It was the kind of breakfast Jenny might have made for him. Healthy. Balanced. Fresh. He’d forgotten foods like that could exist outside of television commercials.
Norm placed the tray in Eli’s hands and Nellie, Norm’s second in command, handed a second tray over to him. “Enjoy.”
He didn’t wait. By the time they made it to the table, he already had both strips of bacon in his mouth. Eli laughed and tried to set his own down on his tray.
He spread out a hand to block him. “This food is special foryou, idiot.”
Eli leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. When the surprise of that attack startled him into dropping his hand, the man gave him the bacon anyway. “I know. Thank you.”
He knew his face was flaming hot—enough to fry the bacon a second time. He also knew that any attempt to cover it would only make it more obvious. “At least trade for it, asshole.” He pushed his tray over to Eli and watched the man pick up the banana and turn it over in his hand.
“I haven’t had one of these in forever.”
Embarrassed or not, he wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass him by. “Gay.”
Eli laughed. He was already peeling it, but instead of taking a bite he brought it up to his nose.
“Pretty sure that’s gayer.”
“Shut up. I’m savoring it.”
And Eli did savor it, eating it the way middle-aged white women enjoyed yogurt in tv commercials, closing his eyes and smiling and everything. He thought his heart would leap right out of his open mouth to see it. How could a banana bring the man so much happiness? He wanted to tell him he’d give him a thousand—a million bananas every day if only he’d keep smiling like that. Maybe others thought so too, because Bee stopped by their table and set his banana down on the table. “Stay good, doc.”
Samuel stared. Bee was the biggest guy in the prison. Bigger than big Tom. Bigger than anyone he’d ever seen. He’d never spoken to the man. He’d never had a reason to. Bee largely kept to himself. He was called Bee because he ate honey with everything.
Eli smiled at him. “Thank you, Finn.”
