Sweat pours down our faces and coats our skin. It looks as if we’ve showered in perspiration. I’m learning bigger words thanks to the encyclopedia and old school books our father brought home the other day. I’m up to second grade nowaccording to them. I don’t know where he found them but I’m determined to not sound stupid and uneducated, even though I am, when we’re finally dismissed from Father’s custody and I start looking for a job. I’ve learned some of the bigger words thanks to our television, but looking up the definitions has helped us both understand the vocabulary and how to tie them into sentences.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that when Two pokes me and says, “I think he’s gone now,” I jump and toss my hand over my racing heart.
“Are you sure?” I inquire. “What if it’s a test?”
“We should wait,” she acknowledges, nodding her head.
The heat put us both to sleep, and when we wake up, we decide to take our chances and crawl our way out. Since I’m the oldest, I slither over her and make sure I’m the first one to surface, just in case he’s standing on the other side waiting for us.
“Is he still here?” Two asks, her tone so low that you could hear crickets chirping over her volume.
I glance back at her and shake my head. I continue moving forward on my hands and knees, praying the entire time that I won’t be ripped from the ground by the roots of my hair. “I think he’s really gone.”
When I stand upright, my legs are shaky, having a hard time holding up my weight after being confined and constricted the way they were for however long we were stuck in there. The onething we haven’t taught ourselves yet is how to tell time. Even if we had a clock, we wouldn’t understand how to read it.
Limping over to the wall where water bottles are stacked, I grab one for us both and walk hers over to her. “Don’t swallow it in one gulp or you’ll get sick.”
“I know,” she whispers as she uncaps it. “It’s getting cold, One.”
“We’ll have to get into our cold clothes soon,” I mutter. “I’ll wash them with this weeks’ laundry so they’re ready for us.”
“I’ll help, One. Father’s not here so we can help each other with our chores and won’t have to hide it.”
“I still don’t understand why us helping each other makes him grumpy,” I admit. “All it does is get them done faster.”
“I think–” she starts, licking her dry and chapped lips. “I think he just likes to find a reason to hit us.” She realizes what she’s said, her eyes widen as she glances around the room checking to make sure he’s not hiding from us.
That’s a real fear of ours.
Bad mouthing him and getting caught. The thought of him catching us mocking him in any way makes our stomachs drop. We’ve learned from prior experience that it’s in our best interest to only sing his praises when he’s within hearing range.
“Let’s get our chores done and laundry sorted so we can take a bath. We both stink from being in the pit,” I suggest.
“I’ll start heating the water,” she says, rushing over to our two burner counter stove. It takes an hour for the water to warm enough to add to our tub. We only use two pots and the rest is filled using water from the hose.
“Don’t put it on high, we don’t want it to stop working,” I state. It’s on its last leg and Father says we have to make it last until he finds another one he can afford. Everything he gives us is used and doesn’t work right but we make do, it’s the only thing we can do.
I grab the broom and dust pan and begin sweeping the floor. It gets dusty down here and if we don’t stay on top of it, we spend most of our days and nights sneezing.
With us combining our forces, it doesn’t take long until we’re done with our chores and filling the tub. It’s my turn to get clean first, but Two looks miserable as she tests the water temperature. “I’m not done sorting the laundry, so you should go first, sister.”
She looks up at me with both longing and humiliation in her eyes and says, “That’s not fair, One. You’re always making me go first when it’s your turn.”
“I don’t mind cold water, you do,” I point out. “You get sick easier than I do. Don’t argue, sister, and hop in the bath.”
“You’re bossy, One.”
“I’m older, that’s my right,” I assert. “The sooner you get in and get washed, the quicker I can get in. Who knows, maybe there’ll still be some warm water when I get in.”
“I’ll be quick,” she says, nodding her head as if she’s made up her mind that this will be the fastest bath she’s ever taken.
“That’d be nice,” I tell her as I head to the dryer and pull out a warm towel. We share everything, even clothes and hygienic supplies. We’re only allotted so many things per week to use andif we go over that amount, we see the other side of Father’s belt. “Make sure you get out quickly so you don’t catch a chill.”
“Yes, sister.”
She kept her word and in what feels like no time, she’s hopping out and I’m sinking in. It has a little warmth left to it so I ball up my body and dunk my head. I wash my body from head to toe as if I’m in a race to the finish line. Once we’re both dressed, I take the towel we used to dry off and start working on our hair. Both of us have never had so much as a trim so our hair falls past our knees. We take turns getting the gnarls and tangles out with a comb before I heat us up a can of Spaghetti O’s.
It’s dented and marked as clearance since it’s outdated, but to us, this is a treat no matter how little it costs.
