Author's note: If anyone reading is from Louisiana like MatureFetus and I, you'll get a little laugh at Charon trying to pronounce our food.

July 14, 2072

Chapter 2: Take a Look

The room I woke up in was quiet. Where were the kids fighting and playing? A moment later, I remembered Joel and I were bought. At least he kept us together. Most kids aren't that lucky, they usually get separated and never see each other again. I wonder why he bought both of us?

I heard a loud crash come from downstairs. I jumped out of bed and ran down the hall. I tripped halfway down the stairs and hit the floor.

My head was pounding. My back hurt and a woman was touching my arm, trying to help me maybe. I looked up at her. She looked Hispanic. She was pulling me off the floor. I sat up and shook her arm off. She said something in another language.

"Ay, get off the floor, doncha got any manners?" She had a thick Boston accent.

She reached out to me and I took her hand. I stood up and let her hand go before it got awkward.

"My name's Rosalyn. I'm the maid. If you came down 'cause of the crash, I just dropped some of Ripley's metal bowls. Those things are heavy as shit."

"Hey, I'm Nick. I'm the new whatever. I don't really know what he wants with me. Or my brother."

"He probably wants you as a delivery boy, ya know. Back in my hometown, they had a delivery boy for just about anything, but mostly pizza. I heard a lot of marriages were ruined 'cause of delivery boys." She looked at me, expecting a response.

"Well, I don't plan on being a homewrecker any time soon, although, I'm flattered you would think that highly of me." I grinned at her.

"You're pretty funny, ya know. I wish Mr. Ripley was more like you." She seemed to drop down a peg at the thought of the man.

"Were you from one of the camps, too?" Sympathy wasn't usually my thing.

She looked down for a moment. "Yeah, somethin' like that."

There was more to it, but I wasn't about to pressure her into talking about things the doesn't want to."

"I have to go, I need to clean up the mess in the kitchen before Ripley sees. I'll see ya later, Nick."

Rosalyn. Rosalyn. Rosalyn. I repeated her name in my head. It was a nice name.

I walked around the house to get a feel for the place. It was pretty big. And it screamed "rich". There was a ball room on the left side of the house. The foyer led to the office, the ball room and the kitchen on the other side of the house. A small bathroom sat in the corner of the kitchen. The upstairs was mainly just a hallway that led to everyone's rooms.

I walked outside into the courtyard. A large fountain was clearly the centerpiece, the driveway wrapped around it. A small round table with two chairs was placed off to the side near the house. The inside of the wrought-iron gate was lined with spiral bushes and statues. Flower gardens stretched around the outside of the gates.

After several minutes of walking around and taking in the sights, I realized why the courtyard was in the front. He just wanted everyone to see his shit. He wanted all the neighbors to know his luxuries.

I almost tripped on a raw hide bone. I didn't know he had a dog. At least I hope that's for a dog. I opened the front door and walked around until I found another door in the ballroom.

I opened it and stepped out onto a porch with a small table under an awning. The view was amazing. I could see a large pond surrounded by woods. I could barely make out ripples in the water from fish. A wooden dock led to a small boat. It was beautiful. Serene.

BARK BARK

I turned around in time to get a flash of a large St. Bernard before getting pinned to the ground. It was barking and drooling all over my face. This was such a lovely day.

"Hey, I see you've met the family pet. Aslan, heel!"

Mr. Ripley stood in a suit, smug as usual. The dog which I can assume is Aslan jumped off with a bark. I stood up and he bumped my leg with his nose.

"What is he doing?" I've never met a dog that wasn't a police dog before. This was completely new.

"He's sniffing you. Trying to see if I was right to call him off. He won't hurt you again."

I tried to clear my swimming head to get a clear thought out. "What do you need me and Joel for?"

"Well, I needed a new delivery boy since the old one quit. I needed one that couldn't quit. That's where you come in. I still don't know what I'll do with Joel. I think he'll just do the basic things Rosalyn doesn't have time for."

"Where is he?" I didn't think about it until know. I haven't seen him since we got here.

"He's actually helping Rosalyn at the moment. They're working on lunch."

I can't even imagine what kind of food we get to eat here. We always had stew for lunch and dinner at the camps. Every once in awhile, they would get someone from Louisiana who cooked something called jumble liar or gundo. They had really weird names for really good food. Sometimes we had fried chicken. But that was only very rare occasions and it was a "first come, first serve" thing.

"What's for lunch?" I didn't realize how hungry I was until now. Also part of my training.

I think we're having something Rosalyn ate when she was younger. She just makes what she feels like with what we have. It's usually things from her heritage. It's pretty good."

"Where's she from anyway? I would've asked but it seemed inappropriate."

"Her dad sold her to me. I really don't think she should be in that house anyway. I mean, who the hell sells their own child?"

I was shocked. Really, who would? Then I realized that that also means he bought her, and me, and Joel.

"Well, who would buy a person?" That seemed to strike a nerve.

"Watch your mouth, kid. Do you forget who you're talking to?"

Glaring at him, I spit out "no."

"Get the fuck inside." Yeah, he was pretty pissed.

Inside smelled like spices and fresh vegetables. It smelled like what I assume where Rosalyn grew up.

I could hear Joel in the kitchen. I followed their laughing. He was standing with two tomatoes up to his chest like breasts.

"Happy birthday, Mr. President, happy birthday to you." Joel was singing in a breathy voice.

"Holy shit, stop. I need those." Rosalyn had a very irritating laugh. One that was half snort, half groaning. It hurt my ears. But I wouldn't mind hearing more of it.

Joel started rubbing them and making kissing noises. I coughed and the noises faded.

"I was just helping her cook lunch." His face was as bright as the fruit.

"Alright, Tomato Tits, finish what your doing. I'm hungry."

He gingerly put them down.

"Do you have any fun?" Rosalyn snickered.

"I'm dick loads of fun."

"Bull shit" Joel whispered.

Lunch was ready in a matter of minutes and the rest of the afternoon was spent cleaning.

That night I walked into the office.

"Hey, I have..."

Mr. Ripley was touching Joel's arm. I really don't like seeing this. Something seemed very wrong about it. The lights were dim and they were alone. Joel looked very nervous.

"the mail." I finished.

Ripley turned, his hand withdrawing from Joel.

"Thank you, Nick." Ripley also looked like he was guilty.

This really doesn't sit right with me.

I don't know who the fuck you are, But I sure as will find out.