Uncivilized
Page 12
I snicker to myself because I’ve made her uncomfortable. This is no less than she deserves because from the moment I first laid eyes on this woman, she’s stolen every bit of comfort from me. If I can repay the favor, I’ll take every opportunity I can.
Moira busies herself at the stove, stirring whatever is in the pot. Then she takes two plates out of the cabinet and starts to ladle food on each one. Picking the plates up, she turns to me and says, “It’s not much, just Hamburger Helper, but I don’t have anything stocked up. We’ll have to go to the grocery store tomorrow.”
She sets the plate down in front of me. I inhale deeply as I look at the pile of unrecognizable food. Moira grabs two forks out of a drawer and sets one down beside my plate, which I ignore.
I don’t wait for her to sit at the table to eat, but immediately stick my fingers into the pile of steaming sustenance and try to pick up the squirmy mess. It slips out of my grasp and falls back to the plate.
When I look up at Moira, she primly takes her fork and scoops up some food, then puts it delicately in her mouth. After she chews and swallows, she says, “It’s a lot easier with the fork.”
I grunt at her in reply, merely picking up the plate and bringing it to my mouth. With my fingers, I start pushing the stuff into my open mouth, relishing in her look of stunned disbelief.
Putting the plate back down, I chew the mouthful, which is absolutely delicious, and give her a superior smile before I swallow.
“What is in this Hamburger Helper?” I ask.
“Some pasta noodles and sauce… ground beef. Did you ever have this as a kid?”
Shaking my head, I pick the plate up and push some more into my mouth. “Not that I remember,” I say with a full mouth. She actually grimaces at me, and that makes me happy.
We eat in silence, and I make quick work of my meal. When my plate is empty, I realize I’m still hungry. “I’ll have some more.”
She raises an eyebrow at me, and I see a spark of something I haven’t seen yet. Smiling at me, she says, “There’s plenty more on the stove. Help yourself.”
My eyes cut to the stove, and then back to Moira. Serve myself? Is she serious?
“Zach… I didn’t mind serving you the first portion because I was already up and getting my own plate, but you need to learn to serve yourself.”
I stare at her a moment, wondering how I can argue against her. My upbringing demands the woman serve me, but this I know is the way of things in my village because the men provide the food. Here… Moira not only provided the food, but she prepared it as well.
With a curt nod, I stand from the table, but not before licking my fingers clean, which rewards me with another grimace from her. I take my plate to the stove and scoop up some more of the cheese-and-beef concoction.
“Would you like some more?” I offer, and I am immediately shocked I would do such a thing. Thankfully, she says a quiet “no” so I help myself to the remainder.
More silence as I finish eating and Moira watches me. After I have scooped the last bit in my mouth and swallowed it, I actually get up from the table and wash my hands in the sink. While I am enjoying being a heathen at her table by refusing to use utensils and a napkin, I always washed my hands with water after a meal, so it seems natural for me to do so now.
I start to walk out of the kitchen when I’m done, but Moira’s voice stops me. “We need to talk, Zach.”
Ignoring her, I continue toward my bedroom, but her voice halts me. “Please… just five minutes.”
There’s something about her tone… it’s tired sounding… laced with frustration. While there is a part of me that relishes it, a small part doesn’t feel all that great because deep down, I know it was not her idea to bring me here. Her involvement is merely to help me, and I get that on some basic level. I decide to give her a tiny bit of something, so I turn around to look at her.
She stares me in the eye, not between my legs, so I know she’s serious. “We need to talk about the time you’ll be spending here. We need to set some ground rules.”
Sighing, I walk back to the chair I just vacated and sit down, spreading my legs wide, laughing on the inside as she struggles to maintain eye contact with me. I know if I were to reach down and stroke myself, she’d never be able to keep her gaze on my face, but I don’t do that. I’d rather just get this over with so I stare at her, waiting to see what bit of grief she’ll give me now.
“Zach… I know you don’t want to be here,” she says softly.
“At last… we agree on something.”
“But you are here. You promised Paraila and, while I fully expect that you will return to your home one day, the truth of the matter is we will be spending a lot of time together. You should take advantage of this unique opportunity before you.”
“An opportunity I did not want, nor do I want,” I affirm.
“Yes, I know. But I also have a job to do, and that is to help you get readjusted to life here in America. Maybe if you told me what you’d like to learn, we can start there. I’ll teach you anything you want to know.”
Her voice is filled with eagerness to get me on board, and I realize I have an opportunity of sorts facing me right now. She takes my lack of an immediate denial as permission to push forward.
“Anything you want. We’ll make it fun for you, and we can go slowly, or dive right in. Just let me know what you want to do, and I promise… we’ll do it. You’ll see… this can be an amazing experience if you just give it a chance.”
Moira busies herself at the stove, stirring whatever is in the pot. Then she takes two plates out of the cabinet and starts to ladle food on each one. Picking the plates up, she turns to me and says, “It’s not much, just Hamburger Helper, but I don’t have anything stocked up. We’ll have to go to the grocery store tomorrow.”
She sets the plate down in front of me. I inhale deeply as I look at the pile of unrecognizable food. Moira grabs two forks out of a drawer and sets one down beside my plate, which I ignore.
I don’t wait for her to sit at the table to eat, but immediately stick my fingers into the pile of steaming sustenance and try to pick up the squirmy mess. It slips out of my grasp and falls back to the plate.
When I look up at Moira, she primly takes her fork and scoops up some food, then puts it delicately in her mouth. After she chews and swallows, she says, “It’s a lot easier with the fork.”
I grunt at her in reply, merely picking up the plate and bringing it to my mouth. With my fingers, I start pushing the stuff into my open mouth, relishing in her look of stunned disbelief.
Putting the plate back down, I chew the mouthful, which is absolutely delicious, and give her a superior smile before I swallow.
“What is in this Hamburger Helper?” I ask.
“Some pasta noodles and sauce… ground beef. Did you ever have this as a kid?”
Shaking my head, I pick the plate up and push some more into my mouth. “Not that I remember,” I say with a full mouth. She actually grimaces at me, and that makes me happy.
We eat in silence, and I make quick work of my meal. When my plate is empty, I realize I’m still hungry. “I’ll have some more.”
She raises an eyebrow at me, and I see a spark of something I haven’t seen yet. Smiling at me, she says, “There’s plenty more on the stove. Help yourself.”
My eyes cut to the stove, and then back to Moira. Serve myself? Is she serious?
“Zach… I didn’t mind serving you the first portion because I was already up and getting my own plate, but you need to learn to serve yourself.”
I stare at her a moment, wondering how I can argue against her. My upbringing demands the woman serve me, but this I know is the way of things in my village because the men provide the food. Here… Moira not only provided the food, but she prepared it as well.
With a curt nod, I stand from the table, but not before licking my fingers clean, which rewards me with another grimace from her. I take my plate to the stove and scoop up some more of the cheese-and-beef concoction.
“Would you like some more?” I offer, and I am immediately shocked I would do such a thing. Thankfully, she says a quiet “no” so I help myself to the remainder.
More silence as I finish eating and Moira watches me. After I have scooped the last bit in my mouth and swallowed it, I actually get up from the table and wash my hands in the sink. While I am enjoying being a heathen at her table by refusing to use utensils and a napkin, I always washed my hands with water after a meal, so it seems natural for me to do so now.
I start to walk out of the kitchen when I’m done, but Moira’s voice stops me. “We need to talk, Zach.”
Ignoring her, I continue toward my bedroom, but her voice halts me. “Please… just five minutes.”
There’s something about her tone… it’s tired sounding… laced with frustration. While there is a part of me that relishes it, a small part doesn’t feel all that great because deep down, I know it was not her idea to bring me here. Her involvement is merely to help me, and I get that on some basic level. I decide to give her a tiny bit of something, so I turn around to look at her.
She stares me in the eye, not between my legs, so I know she’s serious. “We need to talk about the time you’ll be spending here. We need to set some ground rules.”
Sighing, I walk back to the chair I just vacated and sit down, spreading my legs wide, laughing on the inside as she struggles to maintain eye contact with me. I know if I were to reach down and stroke myself, she’d never be able to keep her gaze on my face, but I don’t do that. I’d rather just get this over with so I stare at her, waiting to see what bit of grief she’ll give me now.
“Zach… I know you don’t want to be here,” she says softly.
“At last… we agree on something.”
“But you are here. You promised Paraila and, while I fully expect that you will return to your home one day, the truth of the matter is we will be spending a lot of time together. You should take advantage of this unique opportunity before you.”
“An opportunity I did not want, nor do I want,” I affirm.
“Yes, I know. But I also have a job to do, and that is to help you get readjusted to life here in America. Maybe if you told me what you’d like to learn, we can start there. I’ll teach you anything you want to know.”
Her voice is filled with eagerness to get me on board, and I realize I have an opportunity of sorts facing me right now. She takes my lack of an immediate denial as permission to push forward.
“Anything you want. We’ll make it fun for you, and we can go slowly, or dive right in. Just let me know what you want to do, and I promise… we’ll do it. You’ll see… this can be an amazing experience if you just give it a chance.”
