by Sahara Foley
Melissa screamed and spat the whole way, trying to break loose from the iron grip.
Cook jerked the door open and threw Melissa out onto the pavement, where she landed on her hands and knees.
The drowsy guard jumped to his feet, and with wide eyes, stared at the intimating woman.
"Guard, take this girl to the Master. She likes boys too much, and I don't want her worthless ass back here."
Hearing her fate, Melissa sprang to her feet. "Cook! No!" she blubbered as she clung desperately to the big woman's arm.
Cook stared down at the distraught girl as tears streamed down her face. Gritting her teeth, she pried the small fingers gripping her and shoved the girl at the guard.
With a savage grin, he backhanded the girl across the back of her head, causing her to fall on the ground in a heap.
As the guard dragged Melissa away, Cook hurried inside and slammed the door shut. She leaned against it, her chest heaving in ragged breathes. "My, God! What did I do? I'm no better than my sister or Warden."
But, she had no choice. Not if Karrin were to survive. So, she remained leaning against the door, heart pounding in her chest, hating herself until she no longer heard the guard laughing at the screaming, pleading Melissa.
Hands trembling, Cook strode to her table and picked up her ear-piece, then punched the button on her vid display.
A female she'd never seen before came on the screen. Where’s Mavis?
"This is Cook. I want Matron. NOW."
"Yes, ma'am, er, Cook, I'll go find her." The girl scampered out of sight.
Her sister's obese body came into view. "Yes, Cook?" she asked with an impatient toss of her head.
Cook took a deep breath. She had to do this right, otherwise, her conniving sister would suspect something.
"You palmed off one of your unwanted retards on me, today," she said with a scowl, pointing an accusatory finger at her sibling. "I want a copy of her file and tape sent down to me immediately.”
Matron's beady eyes narrowed as she scrutinized Cook. "This is an unusual request and outside standard procedures. The tapes and files never leave my office. Why the sudden interest in a half-wit?"
Cook shifted in her seat, needing to find a way to out-think her younger sister. "I had an incident earlier with one of the helpers Master sent over. Now, he's dead. If I had his records, I wouldn't have let him step a foot in my kitchen. So, from now on, I want the files and tapes on all my helpers. Don't argue with me on this, Matron. I want all the documentation for my workers."
Matron studied Cook for a few seconds. She turned away from the vid and with a stern look, shooed her new assistant and a guard out of her office. Turning back to Cook, her fat lips were pressed tightly together.
"You're treading on dangerous ground. Warden doesn't like demands, and neither will Master. Master also told me the boy died from one blow to his head. The guard told him he thought you killed him."
Matron shook her head. "No, you don't need any more information than what's on the sheets delivered with your helpers. If you persist with your demands, I'm sure Warden can send someone to speak with you. You could end up being relieved of your position. Do you understand? Is that what you want?"
A trail of sweat slid down the side of Cook’s face. She resisted the urge to wipe the thin layer of perspiration from her forehead. I can't show weakness. I hear the veiled threat in her words. If they can't trust me, they'll find a way for me to die from a convenient accident. If I died, what would happen to Karrin?
Cook swallowed several times. A desert had formed in her mouth, but she gave a curt nod. "Okay, Matron. You can keep your damn files. I don't need them anyway. Master's probably enjoying my helper, right now. I sent her to him as a gift for sending his boys to help out."
"You did WHAT?" Matron screamed, her triple chins quivering in anger. "She's an unwanted. I'm supposed to hold her for six months. Are you trying to get me into trouble?"
Cook jumped to her feet as she glared down at her sister. "Then, you better hope Master doesn't fuck her to death. She was useless to me. I need workers, not retards. So, the next time a hair gets up your ass about what to do with your unwanted twits, keep them away from my kitchen. Otherwise, I'll quit, and you can do the cooking yourself."
She punched the button and disconnected the call, her chest heaving from anger and fear. Did I overstep my bounds? Sis has my back. To a point. Still, when push comes to shove, and if Warden and Master start mistrusting me, her bank accounts will take precedence over me.
Cook strode into the helper's room and stared at the small form curled up into a ball, sleeping soundly on the pallet. Whatever happened to her, she still needed to protect Karrin. Reaching down, she roughly shook the slight figure. "Wake up, Karrin. You gotta come with me, now."
Grasping the groggy girl's hand, Cook dragged her to her feet and led her down the hallway until they reached her living quarters. She plopped the yawning child on a chair in front of a mirror and picked up a pair of scissors. Grabbing a hunk of hair, she started chopping off large clumps of her long, thick, curly hair.
"Listen up, Karrin," Cook instructed as she worked away, strands of hair falling to the floor. "From now on, you'll be known as Melissa. No more Karrin. You got that? When Matron or the Guards are around, part of the game will be me hollering at you. You understand? It's a game we're stuck in, now."
"Yes, Cook. I'll do my best to play along. Why are you helping me?" Karrin asked as she gazed at Cook.
The huge woman stopped hacking and stared into the mirror at the innocent, trusting eyes. Her own became misty with hot tears. She shook her head.
"Damn if I know, girl. But, it's too late to turn back now. What's done is done. From now on, you sleep in here with me. There's a cot in that, there, corner you can use. When I work, you work. I don't want you out of my sight. You hear?"
Cook sighed, hating herself for her upcoming role. "Whenever Matron or the guards are around, you gotta act afraid of me. I might even slap you from time-to-time, just to make it look believable. You understand? But, you don't have to be afraid of me. Right?"
"Yes, Cook," the little girl said solemnly, staring back at her in the mirror.
Cook's eyes grew misty, again. Hell, this girl ain't afraid of me. She ain't scared of nothin'. She cleared her throat as she started chopping hair. “Good, coz from now on you're Melissa Bell and you’re seven years old. The only time you’re Karrin is when we're alone. Understand?"
Stepping back, she surveyed her handiwork. "Hmph. Your hairs butchered so badly, ain't nobody gonna recognize you, now. I gotta work on menus, today, so you'll be a helpin' me with the writing. Just remember, you gotta act afraid of me, the guards, and every adult you see. Let's go."
Cook took Melissa to her kitchen table and sat the small girl down beside her. For the next several hours, they worked on menus and supply lists Cook had already finished. She glanced up when she saw the bulk of her sister striding through the kitchen door, followed by two girls who appeared to be thirteen and fourteen years of age. Hmph. Right on time.
Matron lumbered over to the table and pushed the two girls forward. "Here, these are yours," she said so sweetly Cook's teeth ached from all the sugar. "They ain't retards or unwanteds. They’ve been slated for the farms, but they need to learn to cook, so they can work the food lines. You ought to be grateful, Cook, as I had to pull them off their drug processing jobs in the sewers. I ain't got the extra help."
You would, if you had the body count you claimed for credits. Or, if they weren’t wasting away down in the filthy processing plant, Cook thought glumly. She glowered at the two girls. "You two. Go over there and help the boys with the corn shelling."
Shooting sideways looks at Matron, they said, "Yes, Cook," and hurried to the other side of the room.
Matron peered down at Karrin, a thoughtful frown crossing her face. "And, who's this little one?" She lightly ran her fingers through the freshly cropped hair.
"Why, t
hat's Melissa Bell. Dumb twat got to close to the fire and burned her hair. I had to cut it off as the stench was making my eyes water."
Cook leaned over to where she could see what Melissa was writing. "I told you peas and carrots, not corn. Now, do it right, damn you, or out you go." Open-handed, she whacked the girl on the back of the head.
Melissa cringed, her slumped shoulders quivered, looking as if she expected another blow.
Matron smirked at the cowering girl, her eyes gleaming with approval. She turned her attention back to her sister, an over-friendly smile creasing her fat face. "We got business to discuss, Cook. Get rid of her."
Here it comes, Cook thought with a sigh. She's acting too friendly, which means Warden and Master sent her to do their dirty work. Those cowards. They're too scared to face me themselves.
Cook pulled the cringing girl from her chair, snatched up the papers, and shoved them into her little hands. "Take these sheets to my room and copy them as I showed you. No lollygagging either, Mel. I need them done ASAP. Now, GO." She shoved the girl away from her, causing her to stumble a few times before she scurried off.
"Your room, Cook?" Matron asked with a cocked brow and a knowing grin.
Scowling, Cook faced her sister. "You understood me right. My room. Why can't I have some fun around here? You certainly do."
Matron threw back her head and let out a blubbering laugh.
Cook stared in shock. She hadn't heard her sister laugh in years. No one had.
With a twinkle in her piggy eyes, she leaned over the table. "Why, Claudia," she whispered, "I never knew. If you want a change of pace, I recommend the fifteen-year-old boys. They’re so full of spunk and vinegar. If you know what I mean." She snickered and winked.
Cook's stomach lurched with disgust. Spying one of her helpers nearby, she yelled, "You. Bring us coffee over here." Then, she narrowed her eyes at her sister. "Hmph. Paula, you're not here to discuss what I do with my old body. Park your ass, let's get to it."
Matron plopped her large bottom on the small seat and wiggled it a few times. Giving a loud sigh, she leaned forward and braced her numerous chins on her tented, pudgy hands. "Straight to the point, as always.”
She was interrupted by the serving girl, whose fingers were shaking as she deposited a mug of steaming, black coffee in front of Cook and Matron. When the girl withdrew her hand, she accidentally bumped the cup, sloshing hot coffee over the sides and onto the table. Matron gave her a withering look before shooing her away.
Picking up a nearby towel, Cook swiped at the spilled coffee and peered up at Matron through her bangs.
"Well, Claudia, we got us a problem. Warden and Master aren’t too thrilled over your request for your helper's records. Speaking of which, that retard you sent to Master never got there. It seems the guards had a little too much fun with the idiot, and she never made it out of their room." She gave an evil snicker.
Cook glared at her sister, guilt gnawing at her heart. Mel might've been lazy, but she didn't deserve to die that way. None of the girls do.
"Geez, Claudia," Matron grumbled, fat lips pouting. "No need to be upset. I'm sorry. I'll take care of the matter."
"Are you, Paula? Sorry, I mean? Are you ever sorry when one of the children dies or gets killed? How about the children walking around like zombies, mostly dead, from your chemical processing plant? Do you care about them more than you do your bank account?"
Matron took a loud sip of her coffee. "No, no, I'm not. Come on, Claudia, I only apologized cuz of how you act, sometimes.” She stared intently at her sister as she chewed on her lower lip. "Have you thought about retirement, Cook? Maybe it’s time for you to move on."
Cook narrowed her eyes at her conniving sister. "Actually, yes. Every day, it sounds like a better idea. Why?"
Matron set down her cup and glanced around. Not seeing anyone nearby, she leaned forward. "I thought as much. I know you don't have very many credits put away, so I asked Warden and Master if they'd be willing to help fund a retirement account for you. They agreed. Of course, I'll be transferring a few credits myself to help you, as well.
“It won't be much. If you don't go throwing your money on boy-toys," her eyes flicked in the direction Melissa disappeared, "or girl-toys, you should live comfortably for the rest of your life. If your expenses end up more than anticipated, I'll even add more credits into your account. All you need do is ask. So, what do you say, Cook? Ready to get outta this dump?"
Cook leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. "Am I being bought off, Paula?"
Matron rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Damn it, Claudia, I'm trying to save your life." She leaned her elbows on the table. "If you don't accept our offer, you'll meet your death in an unfortunate accident. Master already picked out the Guards to help do it. I'm sure it'll be excruciating and unpleasant. Do you want that?"
Cook reached behind her to a knife rack on the wall. She took down a two-foot-long, thin knife and scraped her thumb across the blade, testing the edge. "Hmph! Tell him to send his men. I'll have fun filleting them. Maybe we'll make Guard for dinner, tonight, Paula." She grinned at her sister.
Matron was leaning back in her chair, wide eyes glued on the intimidating knife in Cook's hand. Her fat neck quivered like jello when she swallowed. "Claudia, this isn't funny. Think, damn you. You know too much, and Warden’s very nervous. He's serious. His guards aren’t armed with just knives. They'll use stun guns. Even you can't defend yourself against them."
Smirking, Cook reached into a drawer and pulled out three stun guns and laid them on the table in front of Matron. "Tell Warden he can send his fucking men."
"Where'd you find those? They're illegal. Only coppers or Guards are allowed to use them."
"I have my sources, too, Paula."
"For God's sake, think, Claudia. You're an old, fat woman. You're no match for Warden's Guards."
Cook cocked a bushy brow at her sister. "I have, Paula. Long and hard. Why even give me the option to retire? Why not get rid of me?"
Matron fidgeted with her coffee cup and sighed. "Because, dear sister, I know you. I told Warden you have incriminating evidence squirreled away somewhere. Am I right?"
Cook snorted. "You bet your fat ass I do, enough to take every one of you down to the ground." She picked up the stun guns and put them back in the drawer. Now that the cards were on the table, she knew their implied threat was no longer needed.
Matron frowned at the insult. "That’s what I figured. You're not stupid, sis, but neither am I. Warden thinks he's invulnerable, which makes him an idiot. Still, if you don't go quietly, and quickly, he will make good on his threat. So, what will it be?"
Cook sipped her coffee and surveyed her domain, her kitchen. Tears stung the back of her eyes. As much as she loved her job, she found it harder and harder to excuse the abuse the children endured.
What about Karrin? The poor lass doesn’t belong here. Eventually, she’ll be eaten up and spit out by my inhumane sister and the Warden. The thought of Karrin raped and abused made Cook shudder. No, her time was over, once she protected the child.
Feeling like she aged ten years, she set down her cup. "As soon as you told me they were closing the kitchen in the Boys Home, I figured my time was over. Yes, Paula, I'll go." Cook sighed. "I'm more than ready. I'll take your payoff, as well. That ought to satisfy Warden and Master. Make them think I'm part of your sleazy team.
"I don't need much, but what I do want is a house. Oh, don't look so pained. It ain't got to be grand, something on the edge of town I can call my own.” Cook sighed and took another swig of her brew.
“When I find one, I'll let you know. I also need two or three girls to go with me as my permanent helpers. Even when they turn sixteen, I keep them. You shuffle the paperwork around so well, Paula, I'm sure you'll be able to handle it."
When Matron opened her mouth to protest, Cook held up her hand, glaring at her sister. "Wait. I ain't done, yet. I won't be stepping foot out of thi
s kitchen until you buy me my house. Until then, I better not see that fat, smelly old cook from the Boys Home sniffing around my kitchen or I'll kill him. You understand, Paula? I'm willing to leave, but only on my terms.
"And, in case Warden thinks he can eliminate his problem so fast, you tell him I got two wills set up, just for this purpose. They’ve been left with three different Solicitors. One will is marked for my death by natural causes. But, if I die from an accident, or murder, well, I'll let you guess what that means.”
With a snicker, Cook finished, “You better pray I don't die from an accident, sis, because I think I might’ve mentioned Q63BF499OH3, along with the credit accounts for Warden and Master."
Cook almost choked on her coffee from laughing at her sister as her face turned pale and her mouth dropped open. It took quite a bit of pulling some strings, but Cook finally found the ultra-secret, untraceable number to Matron's Bahamas bank account.
Matron scowled at her sister and clicked her fingernails against her coffee cup. Finally, she sighed in resignation. "Okay, Claudia. Take as many of the little bitches as you want. I'll take care of their paperwork. As for the house, find the one you want, and we'll buy it for you.”
Maron pursed her fat lips. “When did you become so conniving? How in the hell did you uncover our account numbers?"
Cook gave a sad smile. "It was simple. You have some mighty powerful enemies. Oh, they fear you, but they were more than willing to cough up any information they had if they thought it would get you in trouble.
“By the way, in case you have any ideas, one of my Solicitors is in America. Southern California, to be precise. His instructions are to release all the information to the American Press. You understand what that means, right?"
"Yeah, I do," Matron snarled. "If those bastards lay their hands on it, they'll turn it into a worldwide scandal. Claudia, you're a bitch."