Cecilia dragged the boys by their collars, huffing it down the hall in quick, but small steps. When they approached the loosely hanging kitchen doors, Cecilia yanked Jabez in front of herself, shoving the door open. It didn't look like it hurt much more than his pride but things like this drove Cessair wild with rage.
She shoved the two boys forward into the war torn kitchen, "Get cleanin! I wanna see this place sparklin', dishes and all!" Cessair wanted to protest, the typical kitchen workload was collection, countertops and maybe the floor, but arguing wasn't going to do him any good, so he kept quiet which was not something he was very talented in.
"Ya better finish before dinner, or ya won't be gettin any." She squeezed in before going back to watch the others still eating. The kitchen staff had already left until they were needed again for dinner, but the mess they were left with could very well take until they get back or longer. The room seemed to grow in size every time the boys turned to another messy corner.
Beyond the mess created in the kitchen that spanned from wall to wall, the room itself was in need of massive repair. The once white tile floor had yellowed significantly, even the grout was discolored now. Many of the tiles were cracked, incomplete or completely missing, allowing the wet hot kitchen air to wreak havoc on the underlayment and woodwork. The fridge worked, but with a buzz that could be heard all the way down the hall. Many other appliances had reached their life expectancy years prior and had already begun breaking down, if not already broken and forever waiting to be replaced. The worst thing in the boys opinion was the broken ceiling fans, there was practically no air circulation in here and it's a miracle the kitchen staff don't die of heat stroke.
Cessair wanted to explode feeling overwhelmed with the workload and Cecilia's constant belittling. It was one thing to make them work to the bone, but to make Jabez miss not just one, but possibly two meals? This had crossed yet another line, not that it mattered, there was nothing he could do about it except clean. He felt so powerless and it only made him more frustrated. He stomped his way over to a pile of dishes and threw a handful of cheap plastic dinnerware into the utility sink causing a loud collection of 'thwung' sounds.
Jabez jumped, "Be quiet! She's going to come back." He whispered loudly through his teeth. Cessair took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down and began trying to take down the still growing pile of dishes. The dinnerware was stained by previous meals, there were grooves and cuts from cutlery that collected bits of discarded food. The quality of the dishware made it incredibly strenuous to clean.
Jabez gathered anything his friend might need, as well as any other dishes around the kitchen before starting his own task of clearing and cleaning the countertops. He could still sense his friends' anger and frustration, even across the room he couldn't ignore the thick tension in the room. Jabez occasionally looked over his shoulder to check up on his friend, he could tell Cessair was trying to repress his anger, to stay calm. On one hand it was a relief to see things hadn't spiraled out of control, but on the other he hated to see him having to bottle it all up in this place. He could talk to him once he was completely cooled off but he knew it wasn't enough to drain what had been collected.
They moved through tasks, unsure of what time it was but they were beginning to feel their stomachs growl, so dinner was probably drawing near. They cleared the floor of any debris together, Cessair would finish the fine details himself.
When it came time to mop, he went over to the little nook in the room that contained all the cleaning supplies. He returned the broom and took out the yellow bucket on wheels that contained the mop, on his way back he underestimated how high the handle was in the air and it knocked over a large glass bottle of some liquid, it smelled like apples. The glass shattered and liquid flooded over his thin shoes, he simply stood there looking down at the mess he created.
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Jabez began talking to him from behind, who was already aware what was about to take place, but Cessair couldn't hear him. He kept looking down at the broken pieces of glass; He couldn't stop thinking about the past. He felt almost as if caught in a flash back, he was his younger self, cleaning up the wine bottle he accidentally broke. He remembers the smell of alcohol burning his nose every time he sniffled from crying. The tiny cuts on his fingers from the smaller pieces of glass began to burn from the alcohol soaking through the rag. He remembers feeling so awful that he almost felt relieved when his father walked in, seeing how hard he was trying to rectify his mistake. Instead his father shoved his right knee out from underneath him and Cessair fell face first into the pile of shards. Alcohol and glass smeared his face, the trickles of blood lost in the wines coloring and falling into the puddle below. The worst of it, the bottom of the bottle which had come off looking like a large sharp scoop, had lodged itself just above his right eyebrow. The last thing he remembers is looking up at his father's expressionless face and blood filling his sight before passing out. His mother would take him to the hospital an hour or so later when she came home, he was dazed on the floor, covered in a cheap merlot, and upon closer inspection blood. The chunk of bottle had fallen out of his head leaving a sizable 'L' shaped gouge in its place. At the time she panicked and quickly rushed him to the emergency room; she knew his father likely had something to do with this.
When he awoke in a hospital bed and his family was let in to see him, his mother was first to ask insinuating questions like, "Why were you in our alcohol? How did it break? Why didn't you clean it up like your father asked?" Clearly his father had already spoken with her and he was too weak to protest and Cessair believed it was this moment when he broke, when he couldn't take it any longer. It was easier to be numb to the world, as this wasn't the last of it's lashings.
Cessair was shaking, gripping the handle of the mop so tight his knuckles were white.
"It's all right Cessair, take a step back." Jabez said, among other reassuring statements that blew by with seemingly no effect on his friend. When he finally reached his friend and could see his face, he saw that it was practically expressionless, despite his body radiating anger. He was nervous but he reached out and set his hand on Cessair's shoulder, which spooked him, a look of panic swept across his face. "It's all right, I'll help you and then we should be done." Jabez spoke calmly, which was rare for the younger of the two boys.
They took the time to safely clean the mess, it took longer than expected since the liquid had gotten into the grout of the floor and underneath one of the stoves. Cessair's shaking started to slow down while the boys talked and moved towards completion. As they were putting the last few dirty rags away, Cecilia burst into the kitchen with her usual unbridled bitterness, demanding the boys line up so she could examine their work.
The two stood up side by side, in front of their hard work, awaiting Cecilia's inevitably harsh evaluation. They knew deep down that they did a good job given the circumstances but in Cecilia's eyes, more could always be done.
She walked around the kitchen, looking over every crevice much like a drill sergeant going through the barracks on inspection day. She inspected clean dishes, lifted burners and even looked underneath most of the appliances.
"This was the best ya could do?" She said plainly after a painful silence. "I left ya here all day and this is what ya have to show fer it?"
Cessair was boiling over, Jabez squeezed his arm but it was already too late. "Better than you could ever do, ya hag!" He yelled but a bony hand was wracked across his face before he could continue, "If yous think ya can disrespect me like that, I'll make sure you live in this kitchen. Worthless child."
Jabez could sense that things could only escalate from here, he wished he had the power to physically drag his friend away. His wish would not be granted as Cessair had already begun to come closer to the awful caretaker. Before more could happen, there was a sudden knock on the front entry door just down the hall from the kitchen, causing Cecilia to immediately disengage, "I don’t have time to deal with you two, get out and get ready for dinner. You'll be cleaning the kitchen tomorrow as well, I'll make sure to save it just for you." She said as she hurried away to answer the door. Cessair wasn't speaking much but it was clear he was still reeling from the confrontation with Cecilia and his breakdown while cleaning. Jabez worried about his friend, he saw the deep hurt inside him but was clueless how to help him, for now he just stayed by his side and waited quietly for dinner.