27 pale buckets of water. That’s how long it took to be able to see past muck covering my eyes and get about half the tomato grime off me. I’d given up on making the stench go away. I’d need industrial cleaning supplies and I doubted this world had any.
Arthur laughed. “The smell’ll dry up once you’ve got sun on ya.”
I wanted to smash his face in.
We got to the fields and I started work. About twenty others were here just in this one field. Arthur was in charge of this one, while other field officers managed others just like this one around the village.
Since I’d done a good job with the hoe, better than the other delinquents the day prior, Arthur felt I should keep doing it. If I’d known hard work would only be rewarded with more work, I’d have slacked off.
The sun was no less merciless than yesterday. The wetness of my clothes from just having dumped pales of water only kept me cool for about five minutes before it all evaporated.
My hands were also covered in blisters from gripping the hoe so much. The only thing that kept me going was the voluptuous body of the girl in front of me, who bent over occasionally. Voluptuous was a bit generous. She was pretty fat. Okay, yeah. I was sexually frustrated. It had been almost four days without sex, so sue me.
When she turned around, I caught a glimpse of her face and was mildly disappointed. Her assets were nice and she had long golden-brown hair, but her buck teeth and huge nose nearly gave me a heart attack. She really was a butter face. I’m sure I had a shot with her even in Alster’s body. I parted my hair, straightened out my shirt collar and went up to her while Arthur was busy yelling at someone else.
“Hey,” I tapped her back. She turned around. “What’s a beauty like you doing in a dump like this?”
“Working?”
I forced a laugh to ease the tension. Why was she so cold with me?
“Haha, yeah. It sucks, right? Say, after we get off, do you want to come to the lake? There’s a really cool spot where—”
She put a hand to my face. “Um, no thanks, tomato boy. I’m not going to get caught being seen with the village loser. Also you stink, so could you please not talk to me?”
Village loser…?
I gritted my teeth.
This horse-faced, buck-toothed gorilla is talking down to me?
I sucked it up and just waved and returned to my station.
I started to think of just how much I’d lost since being put inside this body. I’d lost my scholarship to my dream school, my dream body that I’d put so much work in, my dad’s money, my chance at going pro and making millions playing football—everything. And now I’d lost my dignity.
Think, Joey.
There has to be some way I can rise in this new world. I’m not going to spend every day of my life killing my back under the sun.
After a few minutes of ruminating, I recalled the magic I’d seen. The man who used it stopped me from moving with just a few words.
Hmm. That could be useful. But I need more than that.
Spellcards, huh?
Are there other ones with different effects? Oh, hey. Didn’t the chief also have one? He said he was going to get rid of it, but I think he was lying. I bet he still has it.
A grin formed on my face.
It looked like he was struggling to figure out how it worked. I bet I could. I’ve seen magic spells in movies. And once I do, why stop at one? I’ll get others.
And while I’m at it, we’ll have a nice, long talk. I’ll make him cough up what he knows about me.
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* * *
After ten hours, I survived my second day on the job. Arthur wasn’t nearly as much of a hardass when I told him I hadn’t eaten anything in two days and was still working hard. He told me I was a real man for that—letting the maids have my portions ‘cause I know the village ain’t got enough till we start producin’ more for next tax season and yadda yadda.
That’s right, Arthur. I’m a model citizen now.
I had come up with a plan. I couldn’t just ransack the chief’s house, since according to Trent, his wife was a stay-at-home mom. Therefore, I would need a more sophisticated plan to get me and the chief alone.
But all of it hinged on Trent’s trust of me. Right now, it was rock bottom. So I planned to turn that around by becoming the perfect son. Once I’d gained his trust, I’d ask him more about spellcards. With any luck, he might know how to use them, given that he seemed to know a lot back there when he confronted the chief. Then I’d get the chief to lend me his, since I’d say I’ll teach him how it works. Then I’d take control of the village.
It was the perfect plan. And now that work was over, it was time to rein in phase 1 of my plan: worming into Trent’s heart.
When I got back to Trent’s house, I briefly knocked on the door. It was unlocked so I let myself in. No one seemed to be home, so I went straight to Trent’s room hoping we could have a father-to-son. Well, he wasn’t home. But the maids were.
They were in bed, apparently very sick. And that was when I learned something interesting.
“Master Alster,” the maid in her thirties said. My head was too scrambled to notice last night, but even while sick, this lady was a total baddie. Her face was wrinkle-less, her cherry-red hair neatly combed, her facial features radiating youthfulness, and her twin peaks towering underneath her covers almost covered her face from my viewing angle at the door.
“Maid,” I said.
“Matilda. Please, Master Alster. I thought we were closer than that.”
She coughed.
“Sorry. Matilda. What happened to you?”
“I—think I might have caught what you had.”
What I had? I was just nauseous because of all the shit that happened to me.
“How long have you been in bed?”
“Shortly after you left for the fields, my symptoms kicked in.”
“And what are you feeling?”
“My head is burning up. And I’m coming down with a bad cold. I have also… thrown up. Please be careful where you step. I promise to clean it later.”
Burning up? Bad cold? I didn’t have that.
Was it possible I’d caught some nasty shit when I swam in the lake? That lake did seem surprisingly empty. I thought villagers made a habit of bathing and drinking out of water sources like that. Or was that a well? Oh, wait. There was a well in the workers district. Oh, well.
If they were avoiding it, then maybe there was bacteria or a virus that made me sick. And I spread it to the maids. Trent might get sick later, too.
“That sucks, Matilda. I hope you feel better. I don’t feel sick anymore so it must have been a weak sickness.”
She smiled. “I believe you just have a very powerful response against illness. Your mother was the same way.”
I offered to take care of her while I was there.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t possibly allow—”
“Shh,” I said with a finger to my lips. “I’ll make you soup.”
“Oh, my.”
To be clear, this was not out of the goodness of my heart, but I was hungry, too. Starving. I added Matilda to the list of people I would spare when I took over the village. As a bonus, I’d just learned I had superhuman immunity.
I went to check on the other maid. She was an older lady in her early sixties with greying hair and wrinkles. She reminded of my grandma. She had a similar story to Matilda, falling ill shortly after I left. I told her I was going to make soup.
“Bless your heart, Master Alster. Master Trent will be pleased with your behavior.”
Damn right he will.
I went to the kitchen to get to work.
Making soup was a lot harder than I thought. We had meat that was salted to preserve, vegetables like cucumbers, lettuce, peppers and a few others in brine jars; some herbs like thyme and parsley, among others; large canteens of water, and other good stuff. It looked like I had everything I needed. It looks like Trent even owned a range to cook with. It was one of those that had a hatch to open and put firewood in.
I proceeded to make broth after I heated up some water in a pot they had lying around. First I boiled it, ‘cause who knows what nasty shit grows in these unsanitary conditions. I brought the water to be a bit cooler and added some of everything I mentioned before and let the juices simmer. Truth be told, I had no idea how to make soup. But this seemed right.
Oh, we have potatoes. This might turn out well after all.
I reached for some and started chopping with a kitchen knife on a wooden counter.
I spent about an hour making the soup. By the time I was done, I did a test taste.
Hmm, not bad. The only flavor comes from the herbs, but hey the meat’s tender. I just needed seasoning.
Whatever. They were maids, right? They’d eat whatever I gave them.
I knocked on Matilda’s door and walked in, proudly holding up a bowl of soup. Her face lit up.
“Thank you, Master Alster.”
I detected a bit of reservation in her face. Did she think I’d poison it? I don’t know what this Alster guy must have been like, but even I wouldn’t go that far.
To ease her fears, I grabbed the wooden spoon from her hand and tried the soup myself.
“It’s perfectly good. I promise. Please, have some.”
She seemed relieved. “I will.”
I brought soup to granny Eleonore. Somehow her toothless smile didn’t hit me like Matilda’s had.
With all that out of the way, I sat down and poured myself some soup. Slurp. The first food I’d had in forever. It felt good to make it with my own two hands. We had a personal chef because mother refused to learn how to cook, saying it was beneath her. Even at Syracuse, I had an unlimited pass to the mess hall. This was the first time I’d ever cooked something for myself.
The first bite of the meat was not bad. I was so hungry I overlooked the lack of seasoning.
Yep.
Not bad.
Not bad at all.