Chapter Nineteen
Kris
Kris stretched languidly. The night before had been both frightening and exhilarating. At first, he’d been terrified as he was hooded and then made blind and deaf before being suspended. Once he calmed down, though, and managed to assess the reality he found himself in, it had been quite pleasant. It had reminded him of the darkness he saw behind his lids as he closed them at night. The darkness of the room wrapping him in restfulness, the caress of the blankets as they cocooned him, it had all been there along with the random streaks of colour making random shapes, in a personal aurora borealis sort of way. Usually, he only registered their presence for mere moments before he became unaware, sliding into slumber.
Okay, sure, this time, the darkness was thanks to the hood, and I was naked, but Ishmael’s hands and the sling were there, cradling me, making me feel safe. And the light show once I gave in, just, wow.
He blushed, remembering clutching at Ishmael as he came to, now free of the swing and cradled within Ishmael’s arms. Ishmael had been so tender, so...
Loving. He was loving. I think he really does care about me in his own way. Who knows why? I don’t. But he does. I can always count on that and him doing exactly what he says he will. He might be crazy but he’s consistent.
Kris let out a soft sigh. Ishmael had kissed him on the head softly this morning, urging him to return to sleep as he got up to begin his own morning. Kris had been happy to oblige, his muscles aching from the unaccustomed strain he’d put them through the morning and evening before. He moaned in discomfort. He pushed himself up. A warm shower would do him a power of good, he decided.
And since I douched yesterday and he said it was only a once a week thing, I can skip that today.
He smiled as he clambered out of bed. Douching was the only thing he’d be skipping. Every hair Ishmael didn’t want to there would be gone, not a single bristle to remind of its existence. His hair would be freshly washed and styled, his nails cleaned, his teeth brushed and water flossed, then rinsed with the fluoride mouthwash. Kris mentally ran down the checklist he’d been given, resolute in his determination to please Ishmael.
Showered and moisturised, teeth cleaned, and hair styled, he picked up after himself in the bathroom and bedroom, even stopping to remake the bed before wandering into the main room.
“Good morning,” said the bodyguard he found there. Kris racked his mind for the man’s name. “I’m Bob, and I’m your daytime security for today. “
“Uh, hi.”
“The boss left your breakfast in the fridge for you. He said to tell you that you may sit at the table, in one of the side chairs, to eat it.”
Kris nodded. He understood that Ishmael was withholding the head of the table and its symbolism from him. That was fine. It felt…right. He pulled the chair to the left out and sat down. It was on the same side as his cushion usually was on the floor and it called to him. This was his place, and he gratefully claimed it while Bob went into the kitchen, returning with a jar of overnight oats. He stared at it, wondering when Ishmael had made it. Had he done it while Kris hung int he study under the watchful eye of Crichton, before returning for him? Or had Crichton made it before he left, while Ishmael had brought him back from the sea of nothingness?
He dipped his spoon in. It was good and as the food reached his stomach, he suddenly became acutely aware of how hungry he was.
“Boss said to remind you to eat slow. That’s been enriched with extra fibre, and you don’t wanna give yourself indigestion or nothing.”
Kris forced himself to slow down.
“I’ve gotta make the smoothie you’re supposed to drink with it. You gotta drink the whole thing. It’s got stuff you need in it.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
Bob nodded at him then turned and walked back into the kitchen. He rummaged in the freezer, adding things to the blender on the countertop from bags he found inside there. He then added powders and a few droppers full of liquids from containers already on the counter. After using them, he placed them in an overhead cabinet.
Vitamins and protein powder, I suppose. Health food crap. I hope it tastes good.
Kris ate another spoonful of oats, chewing the sultanas and sunflower seeds he found in it. He watched as Bob opened the fridge and took out a carton of what appeared to be a non-dairy milk substitute. Made from coconuts if the picture he could see on the carton was anything to go by. Bob poured in some of the milk then replaced the plastic cap on it and returned it the fridge. Then he placed the lid on the blender jug and turned it to lock it into place before switching it on.
When it was finished, Bob poured him a glass and brought it to the table. Kris eyed it doubtfully.
“It’s green,” he said.
“Yeah, it’s a green smoothie. Avocado, kale, lime, mint, pineapple, chia seeds, and shit like that.”
Kris reached a hesitant hand out, knowing he had to drink it. If he didn’t, he’d disappoint Ishmael again. He took a cautious sip, his eyes widening in surprise. “This is good,” he admitted to Bob.
“Yeah, well, I’m glad you like it. I added a little stevia to it to make it a little sweeter. I think it brings out the lime and pineapple more.”
“It really does, thanks.”
Bob grinned. “Okay, well, there’s more in the jug. I’ll put it in the fridge and you can have some more later when you want it. There’s enough for a few more glassfuls.’
“Aren’t you going to have any?”
