Chapter III - In which I make mashed potatoes

My eyes were open, but mind lagged behind. Sunlight streamed upon my face from an open window. I was laying upon a bed. And had a terrible headache. Perhaps that’s why it was hard to think.

They burned my home.

It snapped me awake. I tried to rise, but my body wouldn’t respond. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat was rough and parched. Everything hurt. Where was I?

“It’s alright, Master Edward.” Jacob’s weathered face appeared in view. “I am here.” He reassured me.

“Waa…” I tried to speak, but was only able to wheeze. The air burned my throat. “Water, yes.” He lifted the pitcher above my head, and I drank greedily, sputtering at the end. Even breathing was a challenge.

“What… happen…” Somehow, I finally managed to say the words. But Jacob wouldn’t answer. I glared at him, but he refused to meet my eyes. A few minutes passed before I had the energy to ask again. “What… happened?” There was this strange mix of sorrow and pity on his face that was sickening to watch. But he still wouldn’t say anything.

“What happened?”

Why did I ask him when I already knew? Because a small part of me still denied everything. It was a dream. Everyone was still alive. My home hadn’t burned down. I hadn’t madly rushed into the flames. It was all a lie. But I needed him to say it.

So why didn’t he speak?

“Jacob.” I said.

“I am so sorry, Master Edward.” He burst into tears.

And then it all turned to black.

***

Memories were muddied water, sinking and rising as they pleased. I was sick. They burned it all. I couldn’t taste anything. Did she suffer? My skin flaked and fell off. They shut the doors and lit the flames and watched them scream. I couldn’t keep the food down. Nothing left but ashes. I was going to die. Just like the rest of them.

Sleep was the only time I felt at peace. The nightmares came when I was awake. They stared at me, the skin burning off their bones, the heat so terrible that I had to turn away. I couldn’t bear it. Darkness and light. You need to be patient, Edward. Her warm hands would embrace me. You’ll soon be here with us. And everything would burn, burn and burn.

I honestly would have died if he wasn’t for Jacob. Everytime I opened my eyes, he would be fussing over me. I am certain I told him I was ready to die, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He remained by my side at all times, propping me up when it was time to eat, sticking the spoon in my mouth, lifting me up like a ragdoll, flipping me over to changing clothes...

Eventually, I started to recover. The fever receded, the burns subsided, and I could finally move all limbs. Everything still hurt, but at least now I could eat on my own instead of being treated like a baby.

“It’s delicious.” Jacob, who was looking at me expectantly, gave a sigh of relief as he slumped into his chair. “You don’t have to repeat the question everyday, you know. It’s the same thing you made yesterday, and all the days before that.” I took another sip of the stew.

“I added some extra carrots today, so that’s why I...”

“I see.” I said. “Thanks, Jacob.” He watched me sip it slowly for the better part of an hour. I kept the bowl upon the table after I was finished. Then I took the blanket off, except that that I was slower than I snail and every muscle in my body seemed to ache from the effort… and there he was, holding me up.

Stolen novel; please report.

“I can walk by myself!” I said, my frustration increasing because I actually couldn’t. “Unhand me!” He didn’t, of course, although I am sure he was tempted. I acted like a petulant child nearly every day, but Jacob never lost his cool.

I spoke very little during that time. My mind was a maelstrom of emotions, breaking and joining as it pleased. It was tiresome, having a constant war in my own head. Over time, I grew numb. Sometimes, I could function a hour or two without thinking of all that had happened. Other times, I would sit in my chair, and let the questions wreck me over.

Could I have prevented it? Shouldn’t I have died with them? Why did it have to happen? What would I do now? Was there anything left for me? A variety of answers resounded in mind every day, but I didn’t have the strength to accept them. The innate belief of good and righteousness within me had shattered, and I couldn’t seem to put it back together. A purposeless, aimless husk, I simply existed, unable to face my future.

***

It was eerie, standing in the middle of the clearing where the manor had been. The ground was charred, and I would stumble upon something unrecognizable every few minutes. A table leg, a broken knob, a shard of glass; odd little pieces in the middle of nowhere. I remembered myself, rushing through the burning doors, screaming through the smoke… and now there was nothing. Everything was gone. I doubted if I would even recognize the place after a month.

“The fire burned it all. Lasted for a whole day, actually.” Jacob said. “Then there were the scavengers, looking for loot in the rubble. I’m sorry, Master Edward, but I don’t think you will find what you’re looking for.”

“I wasn’t looking for anything,” I explained. “I just needed to see it with own eyes again. Did they… what happened to their bodies?” I kept calm.

“We buried them all in the temple yard, sire. Held a funeral and everything. You were sick, so that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“Right, right.” I nodded. “Let’s go on then.” He walked back, but I had a difficult time leaving. We sat down, and went off in silence, nothing but the steady roll of the cart to break the monotony. It was unbearable, so I spoke up. “I was searching for a keepsake.” I said. “I thought I’d find something to remember her by.”

“Oh.” He said.

“I don’t why I thought of it. I mean, it’s not like I would forget her, but...”

“She asked me to pack a few books.” He said. “We have them at the cottage.”

The cart tumbled on while I thought how to respond to his sudden revelation. “Thank you, Jacob. For everything.” It wasn’t enough to convey the depth of gratitude that I felt, but it was all that I could say in the moment.

“Your welcome, Master Edward.” He turned towards me and smiled, and I knew he understood it anyway.

***

I had never quite realized it before, but potatoes were quite versatile ingredients. Almost everything we had potatoes in it. At present, I was watching them boil, after which they would be mashed and eaten with the gravy.

“The King’s cause is lost for now, and I don’t think anyone’s raising an army.” Jacob said to me. “There’s nothing you can do now, Master Edward.”

“I know.” I watched the bubbles rise and pop apart. It was strangely mesmerizing. “I’ll stay here until the right time arrives, or word from my father. Whichever is sooner.” The water grew turbid. “I’ll be patient.”

“Master Edward, if you don’t think -” He began hesistangingly, but I didn’t let him finish.

“”No, you’re right, Jacob.” He had been talking about the subject for a few weeks now. “I don’t like it, but if this is what I must do, I’ll do it.” Steam began to rise from the pot, and I quickly snatched it away. “Now enough of this. Did you cut the carrots yet?” I asked. Jacob heeded my request, and turned the conversation towards idle matters.

I had accepted the idea, but I had also been avoiding thinking about it. I didn’t quite realize it at that time, but I was afraid. My mind was a fragile place those days - I could conjure about a thousand fears if I thought about anything for too long. There was this constant feeling of unfathomable dread at the back of my mind; a undefeatable thought that wouldn’t stop screaming about everything was going to go wrong and how it would all be my fault. The only time it lessened was when I focused on something else; like peeling the skin of these smooth, soft potatoes.

So I distracted myself. Ran away from the future and mashed those potatoes. “What else do I have to do?” What else I could do?

“I think we’re all done, Master Edward.”

“I’ll set the plates then.”

Dinner was ready, and we sat around the table. Time. I was depending on time to save me, to show me the way. I wasn’t ready to face my fears, so I would delay the meeting. A coward’s way perhaps, but it was all that I had.

“Wait.” He said. “Do you hear that?”

I did. Men riding horses, who then dismounted. Boots upon the soil, and then the knock on the door. It was happening again.

“I’m Captain Berliz of the New Army, and I command you to open this door!”