Slave Girl

She hadn’t once said it was his father, not once. Did it make it right?

The sound of the door opening to her apartment filled the air, and she tensed up. He didn’t say anything about guests, or what to do if it just opened. She didn’t have to worry though. He appeared, carrying a brown paper bag.

“Afternoon, sweetheart,” he said.

He never called her Useless. He kept on demanding she find a name for herself.

“Hello,” she said.

“Do you have a new name yet?”

She shook her head.

“Maybe next time I ask.” He winked at her. “Want to come and see what I got?”

She nodded. It would be rude to tell him she was bored and didn’t have a single clue what to do. Did people ever get bored? Her life was all about cleaning, being ordered to do work. She was only ever allowed to rest at night, if her Master didn’t want her.

It was strange how fast her life had changed in only a day or two.

Raphael put the bag down and began to pull out vegetables and cans of food.

“I’m thinking a noodle stir-fry. What do you think?” he asked. “I also have some ice cream for dessert.” He placed the tub down and she couldn’t stop smiling.

“I’ve never tried ice cream before.” Nor a noodle dish, or rice, or most things. She had the same meal all the time. Stew. A vegetable stew and bread were all she was allowed. Sometimes baked apples if there was an abundance she’d collected.

“You’ve never tried ice cream? Well, I have to rectify that situation immediately.” He grabbed a spoon, opened up the carton. “This is a vanilla and chocolate mix. I forbid you to not love it.”

She chuckled as he presented a heaping spoon to her lips. She took it into her mouth, shocked by how cold it was.

Vanilla and chocolate melted on her tongue and she groaned, closing her eyes. “Wow,” she said.

“Yes, wow. Another scoop for you, and then we’ll save the rest for dessert.” He pressed the spoon to her lips and she opened up for more.

He placed the lid on top, cleared his throat, and put the tub in the freezer.

“So, what did you do today?” He unpacked more food and she sat down at the counter, lifting some of the peppers and fruits. All of them looked delicious. He clearly had a keen eye for food.

“Do you enjoy cooking?” she asked.

“Yes, I do. What did you do today?” he repeated.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t have anything to do.” She shrugged. “What did you do today?”

“How did you not have anything to do?”

She looked up at him. Did he know she couldn’t read or write? Instead of being nervous, she told him. “There’s nothing for me to do. I cleaned, though. I wiped all the dust away that had accumulated, and I made your bed.” It hadn’t taken her long.

“You literally sat on the sofa and waited for me?”

“I picked a book out, looked at it, and I also stared out of the window. I used the bathroom.” She smiled.

“I’ll get you something to teach you to read and write.”

“If it’s not too much trouble or anything.”

“I’ll help you. Let me help you.”

“What did you do today?” she asked, seconds later, not wanting him to get angry with her.

“I went to deal with my father. The fallout from the shooting is massive. He’s accounted all of his dead.”

She noticed he clenched his jaw. “He knows I’m gone?”

“He knows you’re missing. There’s a chance you were caught in the crossfire and someone took you,” he said. “That’s all I know so far. I don’t think he’s wasting any additional resources to look for your body. If you were taken, then we’re not going to find you.”

“And I’m not worth being found.”

He took her hand. “Only by my father. I got you here, and you can trust me.”

“What if you get in trouble?”

“I won’t. I was careful. No one knows you’re with me. You’re going to be safe with me. Now, I refuse to call you the name you seem adamant to keep. What else can I call you?” he asked. He winked at her and she couldn’t help but smile at his brightened mood.

“I don’t know.”

“How about I give you a few names and you pick?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Clara?”

She shook her head.

“Whitney? No, I don’t think you’re a Whitney either. Melanie, nah, I don’t think it’s right.”

She smiled as he got started chopping some vegetables. It was weird to see him in the kitchen, but it was his domain, at least the way he was, he owned this part of the apartment.

“Emma … Elaine … how about Elenore?”

“I like that name.”

“Elenore?”

“Yes, I like it.”

“Elenore it is.” He held his hand out. “It’s nice to meet you, Elenore, I’m Raphael.”