by Rachel Burns
My travels and experiences all sounds amazing, but it made life less impressive. There comes a time when you have seen everything and nothing holds your interest or excites you.
If Britney and I had a baby, I would be able to see how precious life was. A child’s smile was something that melted my heart every time I saw it. Watching them live was a privilege.
I cared for Britney, helping her to get up and soak her sore feet in the tub. She was my child until we had a real one.
Chapter 8
Britney
Daddy stood in front of me, closing the buttons on my warm wool coat. He was going to take me out with him. He’d told me that he had to do some chores outside this morning. The sun wasn’t out yet.
When we got back home, he expected me to write an essay about our day together outside. I had to write an essay every other day. I was getting sick of them. He’d correct them, and then I had to rewrite them and draw a picture that fit with the story.
Daddy would smile and look at the picture and reread my essay to make sure it was perfect. If it wasn’t, I had to rewrite everything. If it was, he put it into a chest for safekeeping. The chest had been empty when I first came here, but now it was filling up with my masterpieces of nonsense, as I called them. Daddy thought of them as treasures.
I didn’t think much when Daddy grabbed his rifle. After all, he’d said that there were dangerous animals out in the woods.
We walked along, and he told me about the trees, telling me what made them special. I wasn’t good at tree identification, but Daddy was very patient with me. He gave me hints until I guess the right names. He was pleased when I got one right.
Suddenly, Daddy squatted down and aimed his rifle. He exhaled, and when he did, the rifle fired a shot.
He stood up and smiled at me. “I got it,” he announced.
“Got what?” I asked.
“A doe,” he replied. “Were going to have deer meat this winter.”
“A deer?” I repeated. “You killed an innocent deer?” The little kid’s movie where a young deer loses his mother was one that I couldn’t watch because I wasn’t tough enough.
The thoughts Man was in the forest popped into my head. We were ruining things here. What he had done was terrible, and he was proud of himself.
I shook my head to show that I wouldn’t have any part of eating the poor animal he killed mercilessly.
“I know you eat meat. This is how it’s done. All the meat you have ever eaten was once alive, and then someone had to kill it so you could eat it and grow,” he explained.
I turned away from him, feeling terribly sick. “I don’t want it. I wish you could make it alive again.”
“I can’t, but I do have to keep you alive. I hunt for food, and then we eat it. That’s how it’s always been, and that’s how it will always be.”
“Have I eaten deer before?” I asked him, aghast that I might have done something like that. He could have easily mixed it in with other food, and I wouldn’t have noticed it.
“No, but you will. It’s going to get cold soon, and you’ll need warm hardy meals. The doe probably wouldn’t have survived the cold winter. This is the circle of life. By eating the deer you can ensure that she will live on in you.”
I gagged and looked up to the treetops so I wouldn’t throw up.
“I have to see to our kill. Think about what I said, Britney.” He patted my back and went off to see to gutting the poor deer.
I couldn’t watch. I stayed near Daddy, but I didn’t look in his direction. I was glad that he didn’t make me watch.
He complained that I was fussing about nothing while he worked over the lifeless animal.
I refused to look at him as he carried the corpse home. He put it in the shed. He had several small buildings outside.
His homestead looked like an old-fashioned Christmas picture. Lots of people would come home for Christmas and celebrate at a charming place like this one.
Approaching the cottage from this side, I saw that the cottage was a lot bigger than I first thought. It was two stories, and I knew that the basement was finished. I wondered what the rest of the house looked like.
“Britney, go in and hang up your coat nicely. You can put your shoes under the heater so they dry. Put your mittens on the heater. After that, I want you to go down to your schoolroom and start your essay. Write about the trees. Do you hear me?”
I nodded in his direction without looking at him.
I went in and did what he’d told me to do, making sure the sleeves of my coat weren’t inside out, and that my shoes were facing the same way and placed properly under the heater. Daddy wanted the house to be kept perfectly clean.
When I was finished, I stepped forward and stood in front of the door the basement steps. I reached for the handle, but I didn’t touch it. Instead, I looked to my left and saw the living room. I saw the green leather sofa. It was a dark green, and it was positioned in front of the window. The window looked tiny on the outside, but they cleverly allowed a large amount of light into the room.
There were end tables on either side of the sofa. Each had a lamp with a cream-colored shade on it. I stepped into the room. I hadn’t noticed how elegant and cozy the room was.
There were artifacts and trinkets decorating the walls and the tables. I wandered around the corner, drinking up the things I saw. I felt like I was in a cozy museum.
I entered a dining room. It was modern and elegant. The table wasn’t rectangle. Instead, it had the natural form of a tree along with its curves, and it looked like it would have cost a fortune. Still, I figured that Daddy made it himself.
The chairs were leather.
Had he made those himself too?
Where had he learned to do all of this?
Then came a kitchen. It was open and huge. Daddy’s kitchen in the basement was big, but this looked like the sort of kitchen that a fancy restaurant would have. The countertops were marble, and the appliances were silver. It was spotless. I knew that he’d been cooking downstairs, but there wasn’t any dust here either. Daddy kept the house up perfectly.
I opened a door off of the kitchen. It was a huge pantry, stocked to bursting for the winter.
There was an open door in the pantry. It led to a laundry room. I saw the clothes that I wore yesterday hanging on the lines to dry. His things were in there too.
It was a big job, taking care of me.
I went back to the kitchen, and then I opened a door to a tiny bathroom. I closed the door and went back to the entryway. There was a door to the right. I opened it and saw Daddy’s workshop. It was huge and full of dollhouses. Some were finished, and some he was still working on.
He had a picture of a little girl clipped next to a lamp. There was a doll that looked like her on the middle of his workbench.
My first thought was that Daddy should charge more for his dollhouses.
My second thought was me, asking myself what Daddy couldn’t do. How could one person have accumulated so much knowledge and know-how at his age?
I left the room, not wanting to touch anything or upset things.
I was about to go down the stairs, but then I was back in the living room going up the stairs instead of going down to the basement. I opened doors and peeked inside. They were all bedrooms and linen closets. The last door at the end of the hall called to me. I walked towards it, knowing that it could answer some questions I had.
I opened a door to the bedroom. I figured this was his room. The sweater he wore yesterday was folded and hanging over the brass bed end. I stepped into the room and looked around.
There was a door that led to a cozy modern bathroom. It was simple and not overdone. Brown tiles, and the double sinks were made out of a single log. He must have carved it himself. It looked amazing, worthy of being in a catalog about modern homes.
There was also a matching wooden tub. The wood wasn’t completely dry. Daddy must have had a bath this morning.
There was anoth
er door. I opened it and saw his clothes. He had all sorts, even a tuxedo. I’d like to see Daddy wear that.
I went back to his bedroom and looked around. It wasn’t fancy, but it did have a fireplace.
There were pictures on the walls left and right of the fireplace. Most were black and white pictures. Daddy was in most of them.
He must have had some life. There were pictures of him everywhere in the world that I could think of. The odd thing was that they were all made to look like they were taken hundreds of years ago. In one picture, Daddy was wearing the clothes of a Buddhist monk and smiling. He was the only one who had hair in the pictures. Everyone was smiling. Daddy liked to smile, so I figured that he had fit in well with them.
There weren’t any pictures of Daddy as a child, but there were pictures of him with children. They looked like family pictures. The odd thing was that in some pictures, Daddy was standing behind a woman holding a baby, and other children surrounded them. The children got older.
They were clearly the same children, but Daddy stayed exactly the same.
It looked like they were taken downstairs in the living room. The furniture was different, but the room was the same. There was a wall between the living room and the dining room. It wasn’t there anymore.
There were three pictures of young men in uniforms. There weren’t any pictures showing them older. I had to wonder if they never returned home from the war.
The woman got older too, only Daddy stayed the same.
Why had he photo-shopped pictures to make them look like this?
The colored pictures showed another story. Daddy stayed the same, but the woman changed. She was a different woman. She got older. There were no pictures with her and children.
Then I saw pictures of me. Some showed me when I was a kid at the playground. One was of me sitting at my desk in my old room. All in all, he had five pictures of me, hanging on his wall.
A chill went down my spine. I shouldn’t be in here. I went downstairs and started my essay about the trees, not wanting to upset him. I wasn’t sure who I was dealing with.
Elias
I went up to my room to wash up before I went down to Britney. She had been very upset about the deer. She wasn’t used to hunting as a means of survival. Nowadays people hunted for their food with shopping carts.
I’d bet that once she tasted the nourishing healthy meat she would like it. I’d make a fine sauce to go with the roast I’d make this evening. She’d get used to it.
I got a funny feeling in my room. It was like someone had been in here. Nothing was moved, but I got a strong feeling that Britney had been in here. I could be wrong, but I was an old-fashioned man who trusted his instincts.
I changed into something comfortable. I would ask her if she had been in here. If she lied about it, I’d have to spank her.
I knew that she didn’t have a problem with lying, but it was my job to make sure that she never started with a nasty habit like that one.
I found her sitting at her desk in her classroom.
She lifted her pointer finger into the air to stop me from saying anything. Then she wrote something down. She laid down her pen and blew over the wet ink.
I pictured her blowing over the tip of my penis like that. I groaned inwardly.
“I’m finished.” She sat up straight and held out three pages to me.
I took it from her and glanced at it. She had worked hard on this essay, and she remembered the grammatical rules that I’d taught her.
“Do you know how I feel about little girls snooping through my things?” I asked.
“No, I don’t know,” she answered, as blood drained from her face. She was guilty. I’d been right to think that she had been in my room.
“Were you in my room?” I asked her.
She nodded at me. She didn’t hesitate for a second. My Britney was an honest child. “I’m sorry. I didn’t touch anything. I swear I kept my hands to myself.”
“I believe you. Thank you for being honest with me.” I went to my desk and sat down. “Get out your math book and look at page 104. Do the equations at the bottom of the page.” I wanted to read her essay and see if she had included anything about the deer.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, Britney?” I looked at her.
“Why do you have a bathtub out of wood?”
I grinned. If that was the only question she had, then I didn’t have anything to worry about. She’d keep her promise and stay with me until she died.
“I think it’s unique and practical.”
“Practical?”
“It works just fine. It doesn’t leak, and it looks warm and comfortable. You can’t slip as easily in it. You’ll like it.”
“Me?” She pointed to herself.
“Yes, when I know that I can trust you, you’ll move upstairs and live with me.”
She tilted her head to the side and looked at me. “Would I have more chores?” she finally asked. Children thought about the darnedest things.
“Yes, but I wouldn’t overwork you. Daddy is a strong man. He’ll take care of you. Now see to it that you finish your math. You want to graduate on time, don’t you?”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“You don’t want to graduate?” I leaned across my desk. I’d worked hard to get my education, and I wanted my wife to appreciate hers.
“What does it matter if I’m never going to leave this woods?”
I would have been mad, but she was serious.
“Don’t you want me to invite the family over to celebrate with you?”
“It’s not like I need a diploma to apply for a job.”
“You need it, so you know what you are capable of. It isn’t only a piece of paper, but a piece of evidence that you worked towards a goal and achieved it. You need it to feel proud of yourself. I know I’ll be proud of you when I hand it to you.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” I gave her a huge smile. She needed to hear how special she was to me. She needed to hear that I cared for her, and that I wouldn’t lose interest in her.
“Okay, then you can invite your family.”
“Thank you,” I said. She had given me permission like she could have stopped me. Britney was so cute.
I read her report while she worked. She had been especially interested in the squirrels I’d told her about.
This was such a good idea. Having her write an essay told me what she had listened to and what had interested her.
My Britney liked animals. She’d love her dog.
“Would you like to eat supper upstairs this evening?” I asked her.
“Don’t I get lunch?” She lifted her head and gave me a puzzled look.
“Of course you do.”
“Then, sure. Okay. Did you make the table yourself?”
“Yes, I did.”
“It’s nice. Can I sit on the side with the bench and the pillows?”
“Sure thing,” I promised her.
“Will you light the fireplace?”
“Of course, I will.” She was so easy to please.
“It will be romantic,” she declared.
I had to grin again. Britney was very good at getting me to smile. She was a happy child with an enormous appetite for sex. It was new and interesting, and she was curious about it. I was happy to indulge her.
After lunch, Britney had wanted to take a nap. Well, after lunch we had made love and she had fallen asleep. I used that time to start the meal I wanted to make for her. I even poured a little red wine into the sauce.
Tonight was going to be a special evening. It was the first time we’d eat upstairs together. I planned to take her to my room and make love to her in my bed after the meal.
Tomorrow morning I’d bathe her in my wooden tub, and she’d see how it worked.
Perhaps it was time to move her upstairs for good?
Chapter 9
Britney
Daddy quickly changed me into a pretty light blue dress
and did my hair. I could smell that he was cooking with wine. The whole house smelled yummy and slightly forbidden. This was going to be a like a date.
I was so excited. I wondered what he made for me.
“It smells good, Daddy.”
“I’m positive you’ll like it. I made it especially for you,” he told me.
“You make everything especially for me, Daddy.” I smiled at him. I loved having someone take care of me.
“That’s right.” He kissed the tip of my nose and led me up the stairs. The long table was already set for two, and there were candles on the table.
This was so fancy that I was scared to touch anything. There were even wine glasses on the table.
Would he let me drink alcohol?
“Put your napkin on your lap, darling. I’ll get the food out of the oven.”
“What are we having, Daddy?” I asked him.
“Why deer of course,” he answered, setting a tureen down on the table.
“I don’t … I don’t eat deer,” I stuttered.
“That’s because you haven’t tried it yet. Wait until you do.”
“I thought that dead animals have to hang upside down for a couple of weeks before you can eat them.”
He chuckled. “No, this is good meat. We aren’t going to sell it. It’s for us. I’ll preserve some for the upcoming winter, but this should be eaten fresh.” While he spoke, he carried potatoes to the table.
“Can I tempt you with a taste of wine?” He had a white cloth over his arm, and he looked like a waiter.
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried it before.”
“You can try it and see if you like it,” he suggested.
“I could do the same with the meat, and if I don’t like it, I don’t have to eat it.”
“What’s not to like?” He poured a little red wine in my glass.
“Is that the same wine as in the meat?” I asked him.
“No, The wine in the meat is especially for cooking. This wine is too expensive to be mixed with anything else.” After he’d poured his wine, he sat down next to me.