Deprivation- The Feast and the Famine

Chapter 3- Little Slippers, Big Questions

Still facing the severed hand, Claudia slipped from the chair to the ground. She stood and then, unsure, took a step. Still fearing traps, she held her breath and her eyes slammed shut. The floor stayed firm beneath her feet. In the end, hunger wasn't as easy to stoically ignore as she had imagined. Her legs were sore from being still so long. Her back was stiff and had begun to complain. She decided it was better to take her chances with the room.  

The food over on the table looked sublime, and perhaps something useful would be written on the slip of paper. Claudia almost convinced herself that it might give her some clue of how to break free. It was a pleasant thing to believe, and it hurt no one for her to foster such elusive dreams.  

So Claudia moved with tiny, frightened steps as if by not moving her feet too far apart she would trick the floor. She stopped and removed her shoes. An urge drove her to feel the floor. She held her brand new slippers in her hand and took two more steps. Her fingers opened and released the shoes to the floor. Her eyes were wide as a gazelle's, and she poised to run as they hit the ground. But it had occurred to her that she might need both hands free, so she let the shoes fall. Then, even as they tumbled, it occurred to her they might set something off. 

They didn't. 

Her eyes brushed the door-frame where an hour before she had noticed claw marks. They remained, and something that looked suspiciously like a fingernail was protruding from the woodwork halfway down one of the desperate scratches.  

As painful as all the cuts and bruises covering her, a memory surfaced. Julien's voice echoed from the soft, secret places of her mind. "Your hands are so dirty! Mother's going to be mad."

"Soon, I'll be out of this house, and Mother won't be able to touch me. Is there water in the basin?"

"Were you digging for worms?"

Claudia took two more steps. She stopped. Perhaps she would need her shoes. There were any number of things that would slice her feet if she ran over them. The two steps back to the shoes were daunting. Claudia found she could not make up her mind. 

How was she supposed to decide what was more likely to kill her-- being barefoot or wearing shoes? How to solve that sort of dilemma was not included in her education. She didn't know where to begin. Just the attempt to think about survival already had her so confused she was worse off than when she began.  

She gave up on the shoes, and told herself she wouldn't regret it. Too bad she knew herself to be a liar. Claudia took the remaining three steps to the table. She grabbed the bread and brought it up to her mouth. Then she paused, questioning her earlier conviction that it wasn't poisoned. Perhaps nothing deadly but something painful. She lowered the loaf, and tears sprang again to her eyes. I can do anything I want but it's all far too likely to lead to my death. 

Claudia thrust a shaking hand at the note, and she picked it up, and opened it.

"Welcome, feel free to eat what you like and to explore the town. Unlike the others, you will encounter this need not be a permanent residence for you. I've told you the lesson I require you to absorb. Enjoy your vacation, my love. I will come for you when you've proved you possess the obedience proper in a woman."

Claudia stared down at the neat print, and then with a cry of rage, she threw it across the room.  

The bravery of anger gave her the strength to devour the bread, a handful of grapes, a pungent country cheese and the glass of water. She would need vigor to escape. How she was going to get out of this place was vague and blurry. Also, blurry was where she would go after her miraculous escape. The only thing that was clear in her vision was the look of horror on his face when he realized she had flown his trap.