No Strings Attached

Chapter 9

No Strings Attached

IX

It took a good minute or so but Pudge managed to collect himself. He muttered a quiet, "Thanks," and then pulled away from Miranda. That movement seemed to get Isaiah, Carrie, and Thomas to move, also. Soon all five of them were on their feet and ready to continue their seemingly pointless struggle.

Isaiah noticed Pudge's fresh wound and inquired about it. When the story of how it came about was relayed to him, Isaiah's memory banks flashed the moment when he shot the gun. It had hit a toy being held by that mysterious marionette. That toy did look suspiciously like Pudge, although without his glasses Isaiah couldn't be sure. Instead of admitting to this, Isaiah kept his mouth shut. If he revealed that bit of information, it might have caused a fight. They definitely didn't need that.

Isaiah checked his watch. "We've been running around for almost a full day. We should try and find some place to rest. If we can find our way back to the kitchen, there might be food," he said.

No one argued. Isaiah kept an arm around Carrie as he led them out of that bedroom. Everyone was tired and hungry, although they had been so busy trying to stay alive they hadn't realized it. Now it was catching up to them, washing over their entire bodies in waves so strong it was difficult to make that journey to the door. Once they opened the door they were surprised to find themselves staring into the exact room they were going to search for.

There was no desire to be the first to step into the kitchen, just in case it was another illusion or an animal crawled from the fridge. Thomas was the first. He bounded in jubilantly, absolutely aware of where they were and what he wanted from it. Swiftly he scrambled to the fridge, where he pulled out a full gallon of milk. It was a tad heavy for him and it took both hands a lot of effort to put it on the island, the surface of which was above his head. He climbed a bar stool and demanded, "I want cereal!"

"Uh, alright…" Miranda complied, although still unsure.

Pudge whispered, "Needy brat." Then he followed them inside, taking in the sights of this room he had yet to see. Isaiah and Carrie were right behind him. Once inside, the door closed behind them and faded from existence. By this point, they were too used to strange things and too tired to take note of it.

Miranda searched through the cupboards until she found a bowl and a box of Crunchy Munchy Flakes. On her search for a spoon, she found the correct location on the first try, surprised to find it in the exact same location it was kept in her own home. Automatically she went through the motions of pouring the cereal and the milk as she had done for her little brothers so many times. In fact, she even knew the proper milk-to-cereal ratio, a feat she was quite proud of.

Thomas was smiling more than she had ever seen from him before. Once the bowl was handed over to him, he chowed down faster than she thought humanly possible. Somehow, he managed not to spill a drop or milk or a crumb of cereal. The sight made her smile, as well, and she relaxed for a moment. The knowledge that Thomas was happy was enough for her.

"I love Crunchy Munchy! I've eaten it every day and it never gets old!" he declared. Bits of food flew from his mouth.

"Tommy, don't talk with your mouth full," she calmly instructed. Despite the lecture she still ruffled his hair. He never acknowledged her command, and instead focused on eating once more.

Pudge felt his own stomach grumble. Hungry, he went for the fridge as well, curious to see what else they could choose from besides sugary cereal. Inside he found nothing aside from a half-empty ketchup bottle, a couple of drinks, an apple, and some rotting cottage cheese. He grabbed the cottage cheese, mold peeking out from the lid. "This is it? Really?" he muttered, not happy.

Miranda and Isaiah both looked over his shoulder. "What do you mean, 'this is it?' There's like a dozen things to choose from!" she said. Indeed, there was a dozen eggs, bread, lunch meat, some left over pizza, juice, salad… it seemed endless.

"Yeah, if last night's baked potato and left over fast food is your thing," Isaiah said. To him, he saw about half a dozen take out bags and a few bits of food wrapped in tin foil. The smell wasn't too appealing, either.

"Babies. I'll make you some eggs," she said with an eye roll. She pulled out the eggs, and was confused when Pudge jumped back and Isaiah inspected the eggs as though it were part of a magic trick. All she could do was blink back and forth between them as they each shouted and hollered over what they had witnessed. "You guys must be starving. You're eyes are playing tricks on you," she lamely joked.

Carrie spoke for the first time in quite a while when she explained, "It's whatever was in your fridge when you were taken here. I can see my mom's pasta and part of her key lime pie."

The thought of the lovely taste made both her and Isaiah nostalgic. That sweet homemade sauce and spicy meatballs was the most delectable food Isaiah had ever eaten. He licked his lips remembering the cool key lime and whipped topping. Quietly, Isaiah said, "We should have some of that. I miss her cooking."

Carrie was happy to reach in and grab the dish covered in clear wrap. Isaiah was practically drooling as she placed some on a paper plate pulled from a stack near the microwave. Once inside the small appliance it took only thirty seconds before it was good to eat. As she handed it to Isaiah, the steam rising from the reheated food, he nearly dropped it when he snatched it from her. He retreated to the island with Thomas and the two boys eagerly ate.

Pudge frowned and turned to Miranda. "I'll just take eggs," he said before he, too, sat at the island. Pudge poured himself a glass of milk and downed the entire thing in a single gulp. The sound of him slamming the glass on the counter caused Thomas and Isaiah to stop eating and stare at him, but only for a brief moment.

"I'll help you, if that's okay," Carrie offered. She seemed so timid, not even daring to make eye contact. Miranda was just happy she was talking and participating.

With a smile, Miranda said, "Of course."

The two went to work, diligently focused and silent. Even the boys' eating wasn't very loud, the lull of action and chaos welcomed. Thomas finished his cereal and asked Pudge to pour him some more, which the older boy hesitantly accepted and awkwardly executed. Isaiah warmed himself another plate of pasta and grabbed the entire remaining portion of pie. For a moment everyone relaxed.

Over the sizzle of the pan, Miranda asked Carrie, "I don't mean to pry, but how do you and Isaiah know each other?"

Carrie was happy to answer, "He's my cousin. After his dad passed away, he lived with us for a few months. Do you like him?"

It was a direct question not requiring a direct answer. Miranda said, "He's a good guy." Then she went back to work, focused on ensuring there was just the right amount of salt and pepper added to the fried egg that was near completion. After it was done, she placed it on a plate and cracked open another. The whole process was familiar and comforting. She asked, "Are you guys the same age?"

"He's a bit older. I'm twelve," Carrie said. It was nice to have such a normal conversation for her, after spending months in this living hell. Miranda seemed like an extremely nice girl, and Isaiah certainly got along with her. Even if this moment wasn't going to last, it was nice to have it regardless. This chance to be normal, to pretend like the atrocities of the past hadn't happened, and to perhaps make a new friend wouldn't go to waste. Though, it would be unfortunate if Miranda were to die like the others had…

"Oh, I'm twelve, too! Well, I'll be thirteen in…" Miranda stopped and her eyes went to the clock. "Tomorrow. I'll be thirteen tomorrow. Wow, that's crazy. Never thought I'd be spending my thirteenth birthday in a funhouse!" she said with a laugh. It was tough to find the humor of the situation but she had to.

"Hopefully you don't have to," Carrie said. Her tone was hushed but sincere. "But I don't think time is normal here. Thomas has been here for a long time but he hasn't aged at all. I've been here for a few months but my hair hasn't grown even centimeter. It's felt like… years, rather than months."

"Maybe with another girl around it won't be so bad. Can you imagine being stuck with those three guys?" she said, a quick nod in their direction. Pudge has passed out waiting for his food; Thomas was trying to pour himself another bowl and splashing it everywhere; Isaiah was too busy downing his own glass of milk to bother helping with the boy.

"I'm glad you're here. And I'm glad Isaiah is. And that Thomas is still okay."

Miranda raised a brow when Pudge was left out. "And Pudge?" she asked.

Carrie froze for just a beat, her face red as she said, "It's awkward between us. I'd rather not talk about it right now."

Miranda lightly touched Carrie's arm and said, "Well, when you want to talk about it, just let me know."

Carrie said thanks but Miranda didn't hear it. She was already shuffling toward Pudge with the plate of eggs. For at least a few hours, the five of them were going to enjoy the endless supply of food, fresh water, and relax in each other's company. Who knew what kind of hell would soon arrive?