Page 27 of Paradox
The mug is hot, but not so bad I can’t hold it.
It’s a cream of chicken Cup-a-Soup. My mother used to give the same one to me when I was sick in a pinch when she didn’t have time to make juk.
The memories of home make my nose tingle and I bite the tip of my tongue to distract myself from crying because I’m not supposed to be missing it. I shouldn't be thinking about how sweet my parents can be, or at least how sweet they were when I was young. When I still did as I was told, like a good boy. When living between two cultures didn’t tear at me.
Standing, I remain in front of the stove while I sip at the soup.
My clothes are hanging on the drying rack I had at the lake, but they are still dirty.
This man makes no sense to me.
Surely he could have taken just a little of the water he brought back with him to give them a quick wash. I know he’ll be having a shower with it tonight. A hot one. Something I’ve not had since being here. A washcloth and water heated on the stove is all I’ve had the luxury of.
But still, it’s not home.
Eden is the one doing me a favor, not the other way around.
Leaving the stove side, I look out the back window and see him in the distance, well into the tree line. Leaning on the back of the couch, I notice a wooden awning beneath the window that hadn’t been there when we left this morning.
I guess that means he made a trip inside my shack to get some more of the wood stacked in the beams. And I guess that also means there’ll be more dust in my bed.
After taking another sip of the soup, I put the mug on the dining table and head to the opposite side of the cabin. There’s a moderately sized flat screen on the wall, and a long, low cabinet beneath it. I'd been so terrified of Eden catching me yesterday snooping inside it instead of cleaning, but today I care a whole lot less.
Behind the first doors are piles of DVDs, maybe thirty on each side. The middle is stocked with board games, Uno, and packs of cards. The last holds a PlayStation 3 with a stack of games.
At least Eden will be occupied when the weather sets in.
I wonder if he'll let me charge my computer? It’s the least he can do.
Huh,I smirk to myself.Absolutely nothing, is the least he can do.
Figuring I probably shouldn’t be walking around in only a pair of boxer briefs, I close the cupboard and head to the clothes rack.
My charcoal sweatpants are so toasty and warm that I hug them to my face as well, but pull them away just as quickly when they don’t have the same comforting scent as Eden’s quilt. After pulling them on, and still equally as annoyed, I bundle up the quilt in my arms and throw it up onto his mattress—instantly regretting my decision as it half hangs off the banister.
Climbing the stairs midway, I pull it back down and fold it properly before reaching up to place it neatly on the end of his bed.
Back down again, I take the tub full of the washed pillow cases and dig to the bottom to find the sofa covers. They aren’t the nicest ones in the world but they are a far cry from the hideous corduroy that might just have more tears in its seams than the clothes Eden’s been wearing.
After dragging the left side of the sofa back into place, I take the first pillow from the stack on the small dining table, and put its cover back on while watching Eden.
He’s closer to the cabin now, moving from tree to tree, feeling their bark and looking each up and down.
After spending longer on one than the others, he walks towards the shack, and I duck out of view. The shack door slams closed, and I crawl towards the sofa; resting my elbows on the cushions, ready to peek back outside. And when I do, I see the axe in Eden’s hand.
Surely he’s not…
Pulling the axe back he swings it against the trunk of the tree.
Oh, hell no!
I don’t know much about nature, but environmental law was one of my prerequisite classes, and I know he can’t cut down any of these trees without a permit.
“Hey!” I yell, running for the door.
I’m already at the back of the cabin by the time I hear the screen close behind me.
“Do you have a permit?”
