They all lined up in single file and marched after the old man. Edward became quite agitated. Did these soldiers even have names? Hell, he didn't even know the principal's name! Except for the female soldier, Martel, not one of them even uttered a moniker. He was tired of calling the men by simple names, his vocabulary wasn't exceptionally wide.
He was one of the first in line, not wanting to be trailing along behind. Figuring he really had nothing to lose, he asked, "So, what do we call you?"
The heavy man stopped abruptly, and the boys collided into one another, bumping heads. The old man turned Edward's way, staring at him with dark eyes. An uncomfortable silence fell.
"Roa."
He started walking again and they all hastened to catch up.
Roa, huh? A last name, a first, a nickname? Well, two names down... and so many more to go.
Even occupied with his thoughts, he still managed to memorize the way to the chow hall from the barracks. Roa shoved open another pair of heavy doors, revealing a long room filled with wooden tables that had benches attached to them. They split into two and made their way down to the end where the smell of cooked food came, and he gestured for them to stand at attention.
The other group of boys that had followed the small man came up behind them, and the girls led by Martel brought up the rear.
They stood there for quite some time, Edward guessed until it actually turned seven o'clock. Every minute that passed made him more and more agitated. He was starving. Circumstances being what they were, him and Alphonse hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, and they had arrived here at noon. Apparently they weren't the only ones-the boy on the other side of the table from him, Russell, grumbled something inaudibly. The smell of food, whatever it was, wasn't helping matters any.
Finally, the principal walked in. Some of the boys, the younger ones, unconsciously stood up taller. The man walked down the isle next to Edward and then to the front, to stand before them all.
"This is the chow hall. I trust you memorized the way, because there won't be anyone to escort you here tomorrow morning but yourselves. You are expected here promptly after morning activities, at 0700. Lunch is at 1300. Dinner is at 1900. The morning and evening meals last one hour, lunchtime for a half. After dinner, you are to return swiftly to your barracks. Revelry is at 0500. Get plenty of rest." He nodded at them. "I'd suggest eating everything, even if you don't feel hungry."
The principal then left the same way he came, and Roa, Martel, and the short man all saluted him. When he was gone, Martel took his place. "Those of you on the left side, you will get your rations first. Where you stand now won't necessarily be where you sit. Go through the line and then back to the table, standing in the furthest spot you can. Place your plates on the table and wait until everyone has their own, and then I will give the signal to sit. Talking will be kept at a minimum. Understood?"
"Yes," said a few boys, but mostly girls.
"I'm sorry?" she said, pretending to look troubled. She held up a hand to her ear as if to magnify the sound. "What did you say?"
"Yes, ma'am!" they all more or less shouted, the girls louder than the rest.
"That's... adequate. Okay, left side, go on up."
The food was, to put it politely, square. There was a square block of white stuff, square biscuits that looked squishy, a small square of what might have been meat, and a few smaller squares of green and orange. Even the juicebox was square.
When they were all supplied with rations and were standing at the table, Martel gestured for them to sit, and they sat. Edward looked around as he unfolded the napkin that held a single spoon. He was satisfied inside to see the green-haired boy stare in revulsion at the cubes on his plate.
His mood elevated, Ed dug his spoon into the block of what could have been meat and stuck a portion in his mouth. It was pretty much tasteless, with a hint of hamburger. The small orange and green cubes turned out to be carrots and peas, and the white one was potatoes. The biscuits were really biscuits, and they were indeed squishy. The juice was plain orange juice.
He was glad the food was pretty much lacking in flavor, instead of tasting like utter crap, like the way it looked. It made eating it that much easier. Sitting across from him, again, Russell nudged his younger brother, who was still staring at the cubes. He took a hesitant bite, and, realizing his hunger, started shoveling it into his mouth.
Alphonse, sitting next to his brother, was the first to finish. He had never been picky about food, and he wasn't about to start now.
Chatter was kept to a minimum, whether intentional or not. They were still wary of each other, barely more than strangers. The girls were a bit louder than the boys. Edward was somewhat envious of their ability to adapt easier.
He surreptitiously glanced down the line towards the girls. With about five other boys in his way, he couldn't see any of them clearly, but the first girl was a blonde with long hair pulled back in a ponytail. She had her elbows on the table and was spacing out. The girl across from her, a dark-skinned girl with dark hair said something, perhaps the blonde's name, and she looked up and then smiled.
Even though he'd seen Martel, he still couldn't believe women were in the military. Martel looked strong, able to take care of herself, but what he saw of these girls... they didn't seem to be able to hold their own if they were ever sent to the battlefield. Were they here by choice, or were they obligated to come here, like him and his brother?
He hadn't known he was staring until Alphonse elbowed him in the side. He choked on his spoon in surprise, looking at him. "What?"
"Martel just told us we have fifteen minutes left."
For the next quarter of an hour Edward half-listened to Fletcher and Alphonse holding a whispered conversation. The two had become friends quite easily. He found it uncanny how much they looked alike, aside from the different-colored hair and eyes. Flax and honey, sun and ocean.
"Alright," said the short man whose name he hadn't heard yet. "In the same way as you went up to the serving counter, go to the trashcan, and then back to the counter to drop off your tray."
When they had finished that and had made their way back to the table to stand, three men came into the cafeteria. All three of them were heavy with muscle, although one of them just looked plain fat. His face was mean, his skin dark like the one girl, his black hair in dreadlocks. A pale man with slicked-back blonde hair and a formidible mustache was the leaner of the three. The other was tanned with an impressive set of sideburns.
"Martel," said the fat one. "You are relieved from duty."
"Jelso," she said, nodding.
The others did the same. The small man was called Dolcetto. The pale blonde was Heinkel and the sideburned one was Darius.
Mentally noting them all in his mind, Edward followed the line as it took off behind Darius. Heinkel took the other eleven boys, and Jelso led the girls. The first door on the right side of the barracks corridor was where the other eleven went. The girls were in the second door on the left, right across from Edward's room. He noticed that Jelso did not go inside the room, being male.
"I'd suggest going to bed," said Darius. "That five o'clock revelry will be here sooner than you think." He left, shutting the door loudly behind him. Once more Edward felt a sense of being caged in.
As he took off his shoes and stuffed them on the shelf and climbed into the bottom-most bunk in his column, he wondered what tomorrow had in store for them.