"Mr. MacLeod, we are doing everything we can to find that boy," the officer
said patiently.
"It's been three months and you haven't gotten a single lead!"
"We have an APB out on the car and the suspects. I'm afraid we can't find them."
"Then look harder," Duncan growled leaning across the officer's desk. How dare this man be so calm? Richie was missing!
"Mr. MacLeod, we are looking, but there are cases we have to give our man power up to."
"More important ones?"
"Not more important, just." He stopped and started again. "Mr. MacLeod, there is every possibility that we may never find this boy."
"His name is Richie, Richie Ryan!"
"In most cases, if a child has been missing this long, they are never found. And if they are. it's not pretty."
"Richie is alive," he insisted.
"There's always the possibility, Mr. MacLeod."
"Richie is alive."
"Then maybe he just doesn't want to be found."
"He was kidnapped! I saw it with my own two eyes! He didn't want to leave! He wants to be found!"
"And we are doing everything we can to find him."
"Then why is he still missing?"
. . . . . .
Richie had no idea how long it had been. He had lost count weeks ago. But he still resisted. He refused to address his captor as 'Master' and was as difficult as he had the energy to be. He had figured out something a little unnerving during one of his long nights alone. As he remained crouched on the floor, chained into position, he had a lot of time to think. He replayed what had happened over and over in his head. He had been kidnapped, murdered, and locked in a small, cold room. But what stood out in his mind was that he had been murdered. He didn't know why but it took him a while to realize what had happened. He was immortal and the strange feeling he got when the slaves and Master were around him was the same feeling that Duncan got when other immortals were around. A deeper fear settled in his chest as he realized that not only did Duncan have no idea where he was, but he was going to be here forever. And by forever he meant forever. It was entirely possible that he would be kept in his little room for decades, centuries, or even millennia. It all depended on when Master decided to kill him. The sooner he gave in, the less likely he would die.
'No,' Richie told himself firmly. 'You are not giving in. Mac would never give in. He would fight this 'til the day he died. And that's what you're going to do. You've fantasized about this and now you have it. You're immortal and nothing they can do will hurt you. You'll heal. You'll be fine. And you will NOT give in.'
. . . . . .
It had been a year since Richie had disappeared. Duncan had searched every place he could think of. He told every immortal he ran into what Richie looked like and if they found him, to send him home. Conner, Fitz, Amanda, Darius and a slew of other immortal friends were on the lookout for the boy. Duncan depended on them to search in their travels while he stayed home with Tessa and tried to comfort her. More than once, they had been told to give up. They were told that if Richie hadn't come home by now, he was dead. They had to move on. Duncan and Tessa insisted that until they had solid proof that Richie was dead, they would believe he was alive and look for him.
Every morning, Duncan got up and checked the status of the missing person's report they had filed and checked for any leads on the missing person's websites they had posted Richie's pictures on. There was never anything. It was as if Richie had been taken to another planet. All they ever got was quick notes from well wishers promising to keep an eye out for him.
Tessa's art turned dark. Every sculpture was large, looming, and almost scary to look at. It sold surprisingly well.
While their day to day life seemed perfectly normal, both had an aching in their hearts over the lost boy. They still went out on dinner dates, went to parties and enjoyed themselves. But every time they went to bed, they had to pass the empty bedroom. The door was always kept open and nothing was changed. It was exactly as Richie had left it. There were clothes all over the floor, the bed was unmade, and a few drawers were hanging open.
"He'll come home," Tessa whispered looking into the room every night. "He has to."
Duncan had told her about Richie's immortality and they knew there was every possibility that Richie had been on his way home when he was stopped by another immortal who wanted an easy quickening. But they still kept up hope.
. . . . . .
Richie couldn't stop shivering. He couldn't remember ever being so cold. He had been shivering for so long, he didn't even notice anymore. He was still in his little room, but he was no longer chained in the submissive position he had been kept in for months, his leash was simply hooked to a ring imbedded in the wall. They had left him alone for a long time and he was starting to get worried. What if they had left him chained to a wall never to return? His hands were shackled in front of him and he was still gagged. He didn't dare reach up and untie the cloth for fear of being caught disobeying. The second he did something wrong was the second someone would come to check on him. He knew what happened when he did something he wasn't supposed to.
'Avoiding a beating isn't giving in,' he had been telling himself for a long time. 'It's playing it smart.'
A buzz interrupted his thoughts and the door to his room opened. Master walked in followed closely by Mamma. Richie remained up against the wall hugging his knees and just looked at them.
"I have a proposition for you, boy," Master said in a kind voice. He made Richie feel like a child being talked into something. "If you willingly show me proper respect, I will give you a big treat."
Mamma walked over to where Richie was huddled, knelt next to him, and untied his gag. "If boy behaves, Mamma will wash him, give him a big meal, and he may stay in a bed," she told him encouragingly.
"Just do as you should, boy," Master added. "You are punished for bad behavior, but you will be rewarded for good behavior. Give me a reason to reward you."
Richie just looked up at him. 'He's being too nice,' he thought.
"Let Mamma feed boy," the woman beside him encouraged. "Boy is getting too skinny. Boy is dehydrated; Mamma has water for him. Be a good boy."
"Yes, be a good boy, let me reward you."
Richie's resolve was fading. He was so hungry and thirsty; he was freezing; he could smell himself. His bottom lip started to shake.
"Be a good boy." They repeated over and over. Finally he couldn't take it anymore. He slowly unfolded his stiff limbs and crouched on the floor with his forehead to the ground.
"That's a good boy," Master told him petting his head. "Now you may be rewarded."
"What does boy say?" Mamma said gently as she rubbed Richie's back comfortingly.
"Thank you.M-m-. Master." There he said it. He gave in. He mentally kicked himself as Mamma praised his response. He had given in. He had cracked. He had given up. Duncan would have never given in. Richie might have pleased his captors, but he knew he had become a disappointment to Duncan. He stayed on the floor and let all the tears he had been fighting escape.
Master left. Richie sobbed, unable to control the despair, anger, humiliation, and loneliness that had been plaguing him for so long. Mamma stayed beside him, eventually sitting him up and holding him tightly, letting him cry into her blouse.
"Shh, boy is nearly grown; he mustn't cry. He has started a new life. He must be happy. No crying," she whispered as she began to rock him. "Be a big boy."
"I don't wanna be a big boy!" Richie sobbed. "I wanna be a baby and go home!"
"Boy is home."
"No!"
"Boy was very good for Master today. Mamma is proud."
"Proud?" Richie repeated, looking up at her, tears raining down his cheeks. "How can you be proud of that? I gave in! I'm a wimp!"
"No, boy is strong," Mamma told him with a motherly smile. "Mamma cannot remember a boy taking so long to obey."
"Can I take it back?" Richie asked. He knew it didn't make much sense, but he felt so guilty for having given up.
Mamma smiled at him. "Boy is special. There is something different about him."
Richie had never really stopped crying, but the words made him cry harder again. Tessa had told him that once. Not in such a serious manner; she had been joking when Angie had shown her a picture of Richie when he had cross-dressed one year for Halloween, but she had called him special.
"Boy must be good. He needs Master's protection from bad people."
"You mean other immortals?" Richie asked shifting his weight to look up at her, but not so much so she would have to let go. She was a practical stranger, but she was the nicest person he had run into.
"What does boy know?"
Richie sniffed and the tears picked up again. "Mac was immortal. I know all about it. The Gathering and the Quicken."
"Shh!" Mamma clamped a hand over his mouth. "Boy must never speak of what he knows. It is forbidden for the children to know such things. Master will be angry and punish boy." Richie looked up at her though his still watery eyes. "It must be boy's special secret. No one can know. Does boy understand Mamma?"
Richie nodded and she moved her hand and went back to rocking him. Richie hiccupped and continued crying. The tears had slowed down, but still came in a continuous flow. They sat there until Richie had run out of tears.
"Time for boy to be fed," Mamma announced. She let go of Richie and stood up, unhooked his leash, then helped him to his feet. She bent down and picked up the gag that had been in Richie's mouth since he had arrived. "If boy promises to behave, Mamma will not use this."
Richie looked at the gag. "I promise," he whispered.
"Good now, come with Mamma." She gave a gentle tug on the leash and began to walk out of the room, on shaky legs, Richie followed.
They went up a flight of stairs and into one of the oak paneled hallways. Richie looked around as he was led down one hall after another. He heard voices in front of him and looked to see who it was. Mamma stopped walking and gestured Richie to the wall. He knew the drill. He bowed his head and stayed still.
"Is he serving, yet?" a woman's voice asked. Richie faintly recognized it.
"No, boy is going to be fed. He obeyed for the first time today. He is being rewarded," Mamma answered.
"It's been over a year," a man said in surprise. Richie placed the voices. They were the couple that had asked about him the last time he had been out in the halls when he had just been purchased.
"Boy is stubborn," Mamma said with a smile in her voice. "But he has promised Mamma he will be good, hasn't he?"
It took Richie a second to realize he was supposed to respond. "Yes, ma'am," he finally whispered.
"Oh, he sounds so cute!" the woman squealed. She took his chin in her hands and lifted his head. "And those eyes, that bone structure, he will fetch a handsome price. Please call when your Master decides to auction him."
"Boy will not be for sale," Mamma said. "It is in his purchase contract."
"Then call when he is trained," the man said.
"Or in training," the woman amended looking at Richie's. manliness. "I will be more than happy to be his first guest."
"Mamma will tell Master."
"Good." She smiled at Richie and gave him a wink.
"Mamma must feed boy now," Mamma interrupted. "He has been well behaved and deserves a special treat."
"Yes, he does."
The woman's tone irritated Richie beyond all belief. He wanted nothing more than to jump on top of her and strangle her to death with his stupid leash. but on the other hand it was nice to be out of his little room and the promise of food was more than enough to keep him quiet and still. He didn't move until the couple had left and there was a gentle tug on his leash.
"Mamma meant what she said. Boy was very good and deserves something special." She gave him a smile, stroked his grimy, bloody cheek and led him further into the manor.
She opened a large oak door and took him into the kitchen. There were servants running around, cutting this, stirring that, and fetching things for others. For the first time in a long time, Richie remembered he was naked just as the other children were. Only they were clean, he was filthy. His skin was red and black, caked with dried blood, soil, and dust. His oily hair hung in his eyes. The short, blonde curls he had grown up with were dark and stringy and long enough to hook behind his ears. Just as when he had been led across the lawn, the children stopped and looked at him as he passed.
"Is that the boy that has been in Time Out, Mamma?" one girl asked, looking at Richie around a cabinet door.
"Yes. Boy obeyed for the first time today. Mamma has brought him to be rewarded."
"Is he going to sleep in our room, Mamma?" a boy asked, putting down the flour he had been sifting.
"Boy will stay in the nursery," Mamma answered. "He is not ready to sleep with the big boys."
"Nursery?" Richie repeated quietly.
"Boy will see," Mamma told him. "He will like it." She sat him down at a table in the corner and threaded his leash through a hole that had been carved into the wood. "Be a good boy and stay quiet. Mamma will get him dinner." Richie nodded. Less than a minute later she returned with a plate of macaroni and cheese, a bowl of strawberries and a cup of ice water with a lid on it. She sat next to him with the food in front of her. Richie looked at her for a second trying to figure out why he wasn't being given the food.
"Thank you," he tried.
She smiled at him. "Boy must say his prayers," she told him. "Repeat after Mamma. Holy Master."
"Holy Master."
"Thank you for the food."
"Thank you for the food," he repeated.
"Bless my Master." Richie hesitated. "Bless my Master," she said again.
"Bless my Master," he whispered.
"Bless my brothers."
"Bless my brothers."
"Bless my sisters."
"Bless my sisters."
"Bless Mamma."
"Bless Mamma."
"And help me to be a good boy."
"And help me to be a good boy," he choked over the words.
"Amen."
"Amen."
"Very good!" she praised him, picking up a spoon full of macaroni. She held it up to Richie. He paused for a moment then opened his mouth.
He took the time she was feeding him to process what was happening. He was going to stay in the nursery and was being fed. She had taught him a prayer. He was the baby. 'What no high chair?' he thought.
Once he had finished the food, he was given the water. He got to hold it himself. It gave him a strange sense of pride that it wasn't in a bottle. It was more of a teenager sized sippy cup. Once he was done, a girl came to collect his dishes. Then a boy came over with a plate of cookies. Mamma selected one and gave it to Richie.
While he was eating his cookie, Mamma unhooked his leash and led him through a different door. She took him down a long flight of stairs. He was worried she was taking him back to his little room. The one the girl had referred to as 'Time Out'. But then he remembered that Mamma had told the boy that Richie was to sleep in the nursery. Before he could wonder what it would be like, Mamma opened another door and he found out.
The room was decorated in pastel blues and pinks. There were two beds against either side wall. The wall the door faced was a big window that looked out over the lawn. In front of the window were two tubs.
"Time for boy to be washed," Mamma told him and took him to a large tub under the window. It had been filled with water and there was soap, sponges, shampoo, a comb and scissors sitting on small table beside it. "Does boy promise to be good?"
"Yes, ma'am," Richie answered. He was finally full and was getting tired. He didn't have the energy to resist what was going to happen.
To his surprise, Mamma unhooked the chains from the cuffs of his shackles, unhooked his leash from his collar and helped him step into the tub. The water was nice and warm. It felt good to the boy that had been cold for so long. She took a sponge and began to scrub at his back, then his arms, then his legs, then his neck, then his face. The off white sponge was black by the time she had finished. She put it on the table and soaped up a second sponge, repeated the process, and then again with a third. Richie fought the urge to ask for a rubber ducky to play with. She then helped him out of the first tub and into the second. It was a little longer and she had him lay down so she could wash his hair. She then took the comb and scissors and cut the long locks away until his hair was short and curly again. Then she had him stand up and wrapped him in a huge towel from the shelves in the corner. The towel hung loosely around his body down to his ankles. He felt like he was three all over again. 'If she puts a diaper on me. I swear.'
After drying him off she took him over to one of the beds. She drew back the covers and tucked him in.
"Boy has been very good today," she smiled down at him. "Mamma is very proud. Does boy remember his prayers?" she asked. Richie just looked at her. "Holy Master, bless my Master," she started and waited for him to repeat it. She then ran him through the entire prayer again. After he said his 'Amen' she kissed his forehead and went to turn out the light. "Time for boy to sleep," she told him. She then left the room closing the door on her way out.
Richie didn't even have to get up to know he was stuck. He had examined the window closely while sitting in the tub. There was no lock and it was double paned. He looked across the room and saw no handle on his side of the door and no lock to pick.
Instead of going straight to sleep, he looked out the window at the sun set. "God," he whispered. "I know I deserve this. And I have no right to ask you for anything. But please, help Mac and Tessa move on. Help them be happy. Tell them I'm grateful for all they did for me and I love them. I wish I had had time to repay them. And please, I beg you, help me forget. I don't want to remember. Help me to be good so I can live. Please. Amen." He closed his eyes and shortly after fell asleep.
"It's been three months and you haven't gotten a single lead!"
"We have an APB out on the car and the suspects. I'm afraid we can't find them."
"Then look harder," Duncan growled leaning across the officer's desk. How dare this man be so calm? Richie was missing!
"Mr. MacLeod, we are looking, but there are cases we have to give our man power up to."
"More important ones?"
"Not more important, just." He stopped and started again. "Mr. MacLeod, there is every possibility that we may never find this boy."
"His name is Richie, Richie Ryan!"
"In most cases, if a child has been missing this long, they are never found. And if they are. it's not pretty."
"Richie is alive," he insisted.
"There's always the possibility, Mr. MacLeod."
"Richie is alive."
"Then maybe he just doesn't want to be found."
"He was kidnapped! I saw it with my own two eyes! He didn't want to leave! He wants to be found!"
"And we are doing everything we can to find him."
"Then why is he still missing?"
. . . . . .
Richie had no idea how long it had been. He had lost count weeks ago. But he still resisted. He refused to address his captor as 'Master' and was as difficult as he had the energy to be. He had figured out something a little unnerving during one of his long nights alone. As he remained crouched on the floor, chained into position, he had a lot of time to think. He replayed what had happened over and over in his head. He had been kidnapped, murdered, and locked in a small, cold room. But what stood out in his mind was that he had been murdered. He didn't know why but it took him a while to realize what had happened. He was immortal and the strange feeling he got when the slaves and Master were around him was the same feeling that Duncan got when other immortals were around. A deeper fear settled in his chest as he realized that not only did Duncan have no idea where he was, but he was going to be here forever. And by forever he meant forever. It was entirely possible that he would be kept in his little room for decades, centuries, or even millennia. It all depended on when Master decided to kill him. The sooner he gave in, the less likely he would die.
'No,' Richie told himself firmly. 'You are not giving in. Mac would never give in. He would fight this 'til the day he died. And that's what you're going to do. You've fantasized about this and now you have it. You're immortal and nothing they can do will hurt you. You'll heal. You'll be fine. And you will NOT give in.'
. . . . . .
It had been a year since Richie had disappeared. Duncan had searched every place he could think of. He told every immortal he ran into what Richie looked like and if they found him, to send him home. Conner, Fitz, Amanda, Darius and a slew of other immortal friends were on the lookout for the boy. Duncan depended on them to search in their travels while he stayed home with Tessa and tried to comfort her. More than once, they had been told to give up. They were told that if Richie hadn't come home by now, he was dead. They had to move on. Duncan and Tessa insisted that until they had solid proof that Richie was dead, they would believe he was alive and look for him.
Every morning, Duncan got up and checked the status of the missing person's report they had filed and checked for any leads on the missing person's websites they had posted Richie's pictures on. There was never anything. It was as if Richie had been taken to another planet. All they ever got was quick notes from well wishers promising to keep an eye out for him.
Tessa's art turned dark. Every sculpture was large, looming, and almost scary to look at. It sold surprisingly well.
While their day to day life seemed perfectly normal, both had an aching in their hearts over the lost boy. They still went out on dinner dates, went to parties and enjoyed themselves. But every time they went to bed, they had to pass the empty bedroom. The door was always kept open and nothing was changed. It was exactly as Richie had left it. There were clothes all over the floor, the bed was unmade, and a few drawers were hanging open.
"He'll come home," Tessa whispered looking into the room every night. "He has to."
Duncan had told her about Richie's immortality and they knew there was every possibility that Richie had been on his way home when he was stopped by another immortal who wanted an easy quickening. But they still kept up hope.
. . . . . .
Richie couldn't stop shivering. He couldn't remember ever being so cold. He had been shivering for so long, he didn't even notice anymore. He was still in his little room, but he was no longer chained in the submissive position he had been kept in for months, his leash was simply hooked to a ring imbedded in the wall. They had left him alone for a long time and he was starting to get worried. What if they had left him chained to a wall never to return? His hands were shackled in front of him and he was still gagged. He didn't dare reach up and untie the cloth for fear of being caught disobeying. The second he did something wrong was the second someone would come to check on him. He knew what happened when he did something he wasn't supposed to.
'Avoiding a beating isn't giving in,' he had been telling himself for a long time. 'It's playing it smart.'
A buzz interrupted his thoughts and the door to his room opened. Master walked in followed closely by Mamma. Richie remained up against the wall hugging his knees and just looked at them.
"I have a proposition for you, boy," Master said in a kind voice. He made Richie feel like a child being talked into something. "If you willingly show me proper respect, I will give you a big treat."
Mamma walked over to where Richie was huddled, knelt next to him, and untied his gag. "If boy behaves, Mamma will wash him, give him a big meal, and he may stay in a bed," she told him encouragingly.
"Just do as you should, boy," Master added. "You are punished for bad behavior, but you will be rewarded for good behavior. Give me a reason to reward you."
Richie just looked up at him. 'He's being too nice,' he thought.
"Let Mamma feed boy," the woman beside him encouraged. "Boy is getting too skinny. Boy is dehydrated; Mamma has water for him. Be a good boy."
"Yes, be a good boy, let me reward you."
Richie's resolve was fading. He was so hungry and thirsty; he was freezing; he could smell himself. His bottom lip started to shake.
"Be a good boy." They repeated over and over. Finally he couldn't take it anymore. He slowly unfolded his stiff limbs and crouched on the floor with his forehead to the ground.
"That's a good boy," Master told him petting his head. "Now you may be rewarded."
"What does boy say?" Mamma said gently as she rubbed Richie's back comfortingly.
"Thank you.M-m-. Master." There he said it. He gave in. He mentally kicked himself as Mamma praised his response. He had given in. He had cracked. He had given up. Duncan would have never given in. Richie might have pleased his captors, but he knew he had become a disappointment to Duncan. He stayed on the floor and let all the tears he had been fighting escape.
Master left. Richie sobbed, unable to control the despair, anger, humiliation, and loneliness that had been plaguing him for so long. Mamma stayed beside him, eventually sitting him up and holding him tightly, letting him cry into her blouse.
"Shh, boy is nearly grown; he mustn't cry. He has started a new life. He must be happy. No crying," she whispered as she began to rock him. "Be a big boy."
"I don't wanna be a big boy!" Richie sobbed. "I wanna be a baby and go home!"
"Boy is home."
"No!"
"Boy was very good for Master today. Mamma is proud."
"Proud?" Richie repeated, looking up at her, tears raining down his cheeks. "How can you be proud of that? I gave in! I'm a wimp!"
"No, boy is strong," Mamma told him with a motherly smile. "Mamma cannot remember a boy taking so long to obey."
"Can I take it back?" Richie asked. He knew it didn't make much sense, but he felt so guilty for having given up.
Mamma smiled at him. "Boy is special. There is something different about him."
Richie had never really stopped crying, but the words made him cry harder again. Tessa had told him that once. Not in such a serious manner; she had been joking when Angie had shown her a picture of Richie when he had cross-dressed one year for Halloween, but she had called him special.
"Boy must be good. He needs Master's protection from bad people."
"You mean other immortals?" Richie asked shifting his weight to look up at her, but not so much so she would have to let go. She was a practical stranger, but she was the nicest person he had run into.
"What does boy know?"
Richie sniffed and the tears picked up again. "Mac was immortal. I know all about it. The Gathering and the Quicken."
"Shh!" Mamma clamped a hand over his mouth. "Boy must never speak of what he knows. It is forbidden for the children to know such things. Master will be angry and punish boy." Richie looked up at her though his still watery eyes. "It must be boy's special secret. No one can know. Does boy understand Mamma?"
Richie nodded and she moved her hand and went back to rocking him. Richie hiccupped and continued crying. The tears had slowed down, but still came in a continuous flow. They sat there until Richie had run out of tears.
"Time for boy to be fed," Mamma announced. She let go of Richie and stood up, unhooked his leash, then helped him to his feet. She bent down and picked up the gag that had been in Richie's mouth since he had arrived. "If boy promises to behave, Mamma will not use this."
Richie looked at the gag. "I promise," he whispered.
"Good now, come with Mamma." She gave a gentle tug on the leash and began to walk out of the room, on shaky legs, Richie followed.
They went up a flight of stairs and into one of the oak paneled hallways. Richie looked around as he was led down one hall after another. He heard voices in front of him and looked to see who it was. Mamma stopped walking and gestured Richie to the wall. He knew the drill. He bowed his head and stayed still.
"Is he serving, yet?" a woman's voice asked. Richie faintly recognized it.
"No, boy is going to be fed. He obeyed for the first time today. He is being rewarded," Mamma answered.
"It's been over a year," a man said in surprise. Richie placed the voices. They were the couple that had asked about him the last time he had been out in the halls when he had just been purchased.
"Boy is stubborn," Mamma said with a smile in her voice. "But he has promised Mamma he will be good, hasn't he?"
It took Richie a second to realize he was supposed to respond. "Yes, ma'am," he finally whispered.
"Oh, he sounds so cute!" the woman squealed. She took his chin in her hands and lifted his head. "And those eyes, that bone structure, he will fetch a handsome price. Please call when your Master decides to auction him."
"Boy will not be for sale," Mamma said. "It is in his purchase contract."
"Then call when he is trained," the man said.
"Or in training," the woman amended looking at Richie's. manliness. "I will be more than happy to be his first guest."
"Mamma will tell Master."
"Good." She smiled at Richie and gave him a wink.
"Mamma must feed boy now," Mamma interrupted. "He has been well behaved and deserves a special treat."
"Yes, he does."
The woman's tone irritated Richie beyond all belief. He wanted nothing more than to jump on top of her and strangle her to death with his stupid leash. but on the other hand it was nice to be out of his little room and the promise of food was more than enough to keep him quiet and still. He didn't move until the couple had left and there was a gentle tug on his leash.
"Mamma meant what she said. Boy was very good and deserves something special." She gave him a smile, stroked his grimy, bloody cheek and led him further into the manor.
She opened a large oak door and took him into the kitchen. There were servants running around, cutting this, stirring that, and fetching things for others. For the first time in a long time, Richie remembered he was naked just as the other children were. Only they were clean, he was filthy. His skin was red and black, caked with dried blood, soil, and dust. His oily hair hung in his eyes. The short, blonde curls he had grown up with were dark and stringy and long enough to hook behind his ears. Just as when he had been led across the lawn, the children stopped and looked at him as he passed.
"Is that the boy that has been in Time Out, Mamma?" one girl asked, looking at Richie around a cabinet door.
"Yes. Boy obeyed for the first time today. Mamma has brought him to be rewarded."
"Is he going to sleep in our room, Mamma?" a boy asked, putting down the flour he had been sifting.
"Boy will stay in the nursery," Mamma answered. "He is not ready to sleep with the big boys."
"Nursery?" Richie repeated quietly.
"Boy will see," Mamma told him. "He will like it." She sat him down at a table in the corner and threaded his leash through a hole that had been carved into the wood. "Be a good boy and stay quiet. Mamma will get him dinner." Richie nodded. Less than a minute later she returned with a plate of macaroni and cheese, a bowl of strawberries and a cup of ice water with a lid on it. She sat next to him with the food in front of her. Richie looked at her for a second trying to figure out why he wasn't being given the food.
"Thank you," he tried.
She smiled at him. "Boy must say his prayers," she told him. "Repeat after Mamma. Holy Master."
"Holy Master."
"Thank you for the food."
"Thank you for the food," he repeated.
"Bless my Master." Richie hesitated. "Bless my Master," she said again.
"Bless my Master," he whispered.
"Bless my brothers."
"Bless my brothers."
"Bless my sisters."
"Bless my sisters."
"Bless Mamma."
"Bless Mamma."
"And help me to be a good boy."
"And help me to be a good boy," he choked over the words.
"Amen."
"Amen."
"Very good!" she praised him, picking up a spoon full of macaroni. She held it up to Richie. He paused for a moment then opened his mouth.
He took the time she was feeding him to process what was happening. He was going to stay in the nursery and was being fed. She had taught him a prayer. He was the baby. 'What no high chair?' he thought.
Once he had finished the food, he was given the water. He got to hold it himself. It gave him a strange sense of pride that it wasn't in a bottle. It was more of a teenager sized sippy cup. Once he was done, a girl came to collect his dishes. Then a boy came over with a plate of cookies. Mamma selected one and gave it to Richie.
While he was eating his cookie, Mamma unhooked his leash and led him through a different door. She took him down a long flight of stairs. He was worried she was taking him back to his little room. The one the girl had referred to as 'Time Out'. But then he remembered that Mamma had told the boy that Richie was to sleep in the nursery. Before he could wonder what it would be like, Mamma opened another door and he found out.
The room was decorated in pastel blues and pinks. There were two beds against either side wall. The wall the door faced was a big window that looked out over the lawn. In front of the window were two tubs.
"Time for boy to be washed," Mamma told him and took him to a large tub under the window. It had been filled with water and there was soap, sponges, shampoo, a comb and scissors sitting on small table beside it. "Does boy promise to be good?"
"Yes, ma'am," Richie answered. He was finally full and was getting tired. He didn't have the energy to resist what was going to happen.
To his surprise, Mamma unhooked the chains from the cuffs of his shackles, unhooked his leash from his collar and helped him step into the tub. The water was nice and warm. It felt good to the boy that had been cold for so long. She took a sponge and began to scrub at his back, then his arms, then his legs, then his neck, then his face. The off white sponge was black by the time she had finished. She put it on the table and soaped up a second sponge, repeated the process, and then again with a third. Richie fought the urge to ask for a rubber ducky to play with. She then helped him out of the first tub and into the second. It was a little longer and she had him lay down so she could wash his hair. She then took the comb and scissors and cut the long locks away until his hair was short and curly again. Then she had him stand up and wrapped him in a huge towel from the shelves in the corner. The towel hung loosely around his body down to his ankles. He felt like he was three all over again. 'If she puts a diaper on me. I swear.'
After drying him off she took him over to one of the beds. She drew back the covers and tucked him in.
"Boy has been very good today," she smiled down at him. "Mamma is very proud. Does boy remember his prayers?" she asked. Richie just looked at her. "Holy Master, bless my Master," she started and waited for him to repeat it. She then ran him through the entire prayer again. After he said his 'Amen' she kissed his forehead and went to turn out the light. "Time for boy to sleep," she told him. She then left the room closing the door on her way out.
Richie didn't even have to get up to know he was stuck. He had examined the window closely while sitting in the tub. There was no lock and it was double paned. He looked across the room and saw no handle on his side of the door and no lock to pick.
Instead of going straight to sleep, he looked out the window at the sun set. "God," he whispered. "I know I deserve this. And I have no right to ask you for anything. But please, help Mac and Tessa move on. Help them be happy. Tell them I'm grateful for all they did for me and I love them. I wish I had had time to repay them. And please, I beg you, help me forget. I don't want to remember. Help me to be good so I can live. Please. Amen." He closed his eyes and shortly after fell asleep.