The Jaguar and The Fawn

Chapter VIII: Communication

   I carried the wet blanket and pillow down the stairs and through the kitchen to a small room that held the washer and dryer, and I laid the blanket and pillow on top of them to dry. I walked back out of the room and as I passed the kitchen window, I glanced out of it.

   "Twilight."
   "What?" I looked at her in confusion,"What are you talking about?"
   "The time of day it is. Twilight."
   "Twilight is the description of the sun's light during evening."
   "No. It is more than just that. It is the time between evening and dusk. It is the time of day when the sun is golden and the trees are pitch black. That is twilight."
   "How very poetic, but what's your point of bringing it up?"
   "I don't know. I just thought you should know my favorite time of day."
   I chuckled as she smiled up at me. I stared at her as the wind picked up and swirled her hair. Her hair wasn't soft and golden that other blondes, but when her hair waved in the wind like it did now, it reminded me of peaceful fields of wheat and I felt at home.
I ran my fingers through her hair as I leaned in.

I blinked a few times as I shook my head. I snatched up my box of cigarettes and lighter from the counter and walked to the door.
   Once outside, I light a cigarette and leaned against the wall. I smoked as I listened to the wind rustle the dying leaves.
   "A walk always helps to clear my head," her voice echoed through my mind.
   I put the cigarette in between my teeth and began to walk a trail left behind by previous owners of the house.
                            ***
I sat up in bed to find the room dark.
"Of course I woke back up..." I stretched and looked to where I believed the door was,"I could use a glass of water. Is he asleep? Probably..."
I sat there wondering whether I should go or not. I finally decided my thirst trumped my fear, so I stood up and walked towards the door.
I felt around until my hand found the doorknob. I opened the door to poke to head out to peek out.
"The lights are still on downstairs," I took in a deep breath as I stepped out,"He won't hurt me... I... I won't let him hurt me... Yeah," I reassured myself as I walked downstairs.
As I reached the foot of the stairs, I checked around the corner. He wasn't in sight.
"He did say he had work, right?"
I spotted the kitchen and made my way to it. It seemed to be a small house, but it felt so open.
"It's actually kind of cozy."
The place wasn't very decorated and the cream colored walls were pretty plain, but I found myself smiling at the simplicity of it. My head began to fill of memories at home with my mom. Our house was simple as well with plain walls and almost no decorations, but it felt like home.
I pushed aside my nostalgic feelings and forced myself to focus on the task at hand. I searched the cabinets until I found the cups.
"Glass cups."
I picked out one to admire it. It was crystal clear and sparkled in the light. I turned the glass in my hand to watch the light shimmer off it. I looked at the bottom of it to find a floral design etched into the bottom. I traced my finger against a vine in the design.
"It's all so smooth and pretty..."
I stood there with all my attention on the glass until the sound of a door closing jolted my entire being. My hands leapt away from the glass and the sound of shattering glass frightened me. I felt my heart pound in my chest as I looked down at the glass.
"Oh no... No, no, no, no, no, no! I've broken it! I... I didn't mean to! He's... He's going to beat me... I... I always get a beating when I break a glass."
Why was I so scared now? Back at the club, I broke glasses all the time. I was used to this. Was it because I didn't know what he was capable of. That had to be it.
Tears streamed my face as my fear began to push me back,"Maybe... Maybe I can get away--"
"Stop."
His voice froze me in place and I glued my eyes shut. I heard footsteps come towards. I heard glass crunch as his presence drew nearer.
"This is it..." I braced myself for whatever beaten he had in store.
However, the beating never came. Instead, I was caught off guard as I was lifted up and set on the island beside us. I stared wide-eyed at him in my confusion.
"You're barefoot."
It was all he said before walking towards a closed door. I watched him open it as he took out a dust pan. He made his way back and I watched him kneel down as he began to sweep up the broken shards.
"I... I don't understand... I broke one of him glasses. I should be in trouble," I looked at the sparkling shards,"but instead of hurting me, he was worried about me getting hurt..."
   I continued to watch him sweep up the shards with my wide eyes. Then he stood up.
   "You could have cut open your foot, and I do not feel like cleaning up the blood."
   I was taken aback by his bluntness. Was that the only reason? Because of the blood? I felt my eyes start to water.
   "So he doesn't care and I am alone here. I thought I got stuck with just another cruel man," I sniffled,"A mean and blunt man."
   He may not have laid a hand on me, but who's to say he won't do it later. I hugged my arms around myself to try to give myself some security, but it only caused me to feel worse.
   "Momma! Momma, please show up! Somehow! Please! I miss you and I need you! I wanna go home!" My thoughts were screaming, but the only sounds I made were loud sobs.
                              ***
   She was crying. I dumped the glass into the trash bin, then I turned to look at her. She was beginning to cry uncontrollably, the kind filled with snotty sniffles and hiccups. I rubbed my face and sighed.
   "What now?" I thought to myself as I stared at her,"Is she just tired? Is this some weird aftermath to the glass breaking? No. Is it something I said?"
   "You are too blunt sometimes!" Her voice rang through my my head like a lost echo.
   "All I said was that I didn't want to clean up the blood."
   I walked towards her and picked her up. All she let out in return was a croaky "eh."
   "She hasn't spoke yet. Is she really mute?" I pondered,"I'll ask tomorrow. She's too emotional to even try to speak with right now."
   I walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs with her in hand. She had seemed to calm down some since I lifted her, but she still had a small cry and hiccup leftover. I walked into her room and set her on the bed. I turned to walk back out, but a tug on my shirt caused me to look back at her.
   "Eh..."
   There was that croaky sound again.
   "What?" I responded.
   I watched her look around then she lifted up the cup I had left in the room from earlier.
   "Do you want a drink? Is that it? That must've been why she was downstairs."
   She nodded her head in response.
I took the cup from her, and walked out and back to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and cracked some ice from the ice tray to filled the cup.
"So she is mute," I thought to myself as I filled the cup with water. If she wasn't mute, she wouldn't have to signal me with the cup. I made my way back upstairs.
When I entered back in the room, she sat there waiting. I walked to her and handed her the cup.
"Here."
***
I took the cup from him. The chill of the cup from the ice water felt nice in my hands. I took two big gulps. The chilled water felt even better going down my throat.
When I looked up from the cup he was exiting the room.
"No point of him staying," I looked down at the cup,"but it was nice of him to bring me a drink."
Maybe he really isn't as bad as my fears believed.