CHICORY

“Okay,” said Angelica, “Now imagine something to eat.”

I stared at the empty silver plate and tried to imagine a slice of bread; nothing happened.

“Oh,” said Angelica, bringing her jaws closer to my left cheek, her reflection mixing with mine on the plate in front of me, “You need to close your eyes at the same time. Give it a try.”

I closed my eyes and tried thinking about sliced bread again. Angelica’s hand rested on my shoulder and squeezed suddenly.

“Well done!” she said.

Opening my eyes I gasped at the sight of a simple slice of bread atop the silver plate.

Angelica gave a throaty laugh.

“You can imagine something better than a bread slice!”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“It’s fine, Chicory. You can eat whatever you want.”

“But,” I said, “I can’t think of anything else.”

“Would you mind if I recommend something?” she said.

“Okay,” I said.

Angelica’s clawed hands rested atop the table.

“Close your eyes,” she said, and I did as I was told.

After a moment she said, “Now open them.”

When I opened my eyes a feast laid spread across the table, filling all the plates and bowls that were empty before. There was more than I could hope to eat in days: a huge roasted chicken dominated the middle of the table; and there was a bowl of steaming carrots, and another of fresh peas, and roasted potatoes with gravy, and little tomatoes; and it all smelled mouth-wateringly delicious!

“Can I?” I said.

“Of course,” said Angelica.

Using a large spoon she scooped up helpings from the feast and put them on the plate in front of me.

Usually any food I ate was dry, or damp, or mildly warm; but never, ever piping hot.

Once I started to eat I had about as much self-control as a wild animal.

Angelica cupped her hands beneath her huge jaws.

I made an attempt to ask if she was going to eat anything too, but my cheeks were bulging with food.

“Manners, Chicory,” said Angelica, sitting herself upright.

I nodded and kept chewing and soon lost myself in eating again.

When I couldn’t eat another bite I sat back in the tall chair completely glutted.

“Erm,” I said, “I have a question.”

Angelica’s white eyes were fixed hungrily on the feast before her, saliva dripping like rainwater from her mouth.

“Angelica?” I said, trying again to get her attention.

“Yes?” she said.

“Where can I go pee?” I said.

She cocked her head to one side.

“Do you need to go?”

“No,” I said, “I just want to know for when I do.”

Angelica’s mouth opened and for a second I saw her large tongue, and the dripping saliva clinging like bowstrings from her top and bottom teeth.

“You don’t need to go whilst you’re in the tower,” she said, “The others, particularly Hress, Albian, and Guy have talked exhaustively on this; in fact they spent a whole day testing to find out the nature of this-” She took a moment to grumble and roll her eyes “-delightful subject. One of the things we quickly noticed about the tower is there aren’t any latrines on any of the floors. But even after eating the food from the tower, or real food, they found the need to alleviate their bowels never arrived. It simply isn’t a concern whilst you’re in the tower.”

I had done my best to follow along with what she was saying, but she had spoken too fast, and had said too many big words. Seeing this, she offered a simpler answer.

“You don’t need to poo or pee in the tower,” she said.

I let out a giggle.

“I suppose it is a little funny,” she said, “But I’ve said as much as I care to on the matter.”

When we returned to the ground floor it was quiet like last time.

Guy and Suzuki were continuing their games of chess sat in chairs by the fireplace.

I stretched feeling fat in the tummy. After checking Angelica was doing the same, I sat in one of the empty armchairs.

Guy and Suzuki erupted into giggles they could hardly contain.

“Is something funny?” said Angelica.

Guy and Suzuki stopped giggling abruptly, managing to fix their attention from my new outfit and back to their game’s progress.

Guy coughed into his closed skeletal fist, and then said, “Your move.”

“Yes,” said Suzuki, sitting forward and searching the board for an answer to her current problem.

She moved one of her middle pieces with great care.

Guy then took one of her pieces with his and said, “Checkmate.”

“Ah!” Suzuki whined, gripping her hair in frustration.

“How many games have you played?” said Angelica.

“Seven,” said Guy, shifting in his seat with a dry papery cracking noise, “I’ve won them all but that’s to be expected. She’s getting better each game.”

“Erm,” I said, “What does everyone do all day?”

Guy twined his fingers together and cracked them loud enough to make me wonder if he’d broken them, though he didn’t look in any pain.

“In the morning,” said Guy, “one of us checks the traps we set. If we catch anything there’s some skinning involved, cooking, and salting for preservation. Besides that there’s nothing else to do except to find ways not to be bored.”

“But,” I said, “Why is everyone here?”

What little lines remained that were Guy’s thin lips pulled back into a skeletal grin.

“That,” he said, “Is a question that has a very long answer, so let’s go with the short version: we’re here because we’re waiting for someone.”

“Who?” I said.

Like some kind of game, Angelica, Guy, and Suzuki looked from one to the other.

“Better leave it,” said Guy, “We’ll tell you some other time.”

Suzuki’s shoes clopped twice as she took them off and let them drop to the floor.

“I would like to play again,” she said.

“Really?” said Guy, “We’ve played seven already.”

“I am very much enjoying the game,” said Suzuki, “I would like to play again.”

They arranged their pieces to their original positions and began their eighth game.

I sat watching them play whilst enjoying the stupor I was in from overeating.

Hours passed.

During their eleventh game Suzuki managed to place one of her smaller pieces to the other end of the board.

“Oh!” said Guy, “I forgot a rule!”

Suzuki became a little angry all of a sudden, “We have played eleven games and now you tell me about new rule?”

“I didn’t invent the game, you know,” said Guy, but then the dry blue skin around his cheeks pulled tightly upwards as he smiled.

“You’ll find this rule a little ironic. See your pawn?”

“The soldier, yes?” said Suzuki, tapping the head of the piece with her black-nailed forefinger.

“When it reaches this back line on the board it becomes a Queen,” said Guy.

“Really?!” said Suzuki, looking at the piece as if it might suddenly change before her eyes.

“Yeah,” said Guy, “I took your Queen earlier so you can use it to replace this pawn.”

Guy swapped the pieces out.

“And now your pawn can do anything the Queen could do.”

Suzuki laughed lightly into her palm.

“Yes. Ironic. Very ironic,” she said.

Their game continued but ended with Guy yet again saying, “Checkmate.”

“Again”, said Suzuki.

“This is getting a bit ridiculous,” said Guy.

“Do you have something else you would like to do?”

“Good point. Aren’t you tired though?”

“Hai,” said Suzuki, “But I want to play again.”

“Why don’t you eat something at least?” said Guy.

Suzuki moved from her armchair to a trunk set against the wall a short distance from the fireplace. From it she produced a thick strip of dried meat before returning to her seat. There was wildness to Suzuki that hadn’t been there yesterday; she bit a thick wad from the meat in her grip- not caring much for the greasy residue- and looked forward whilst chewing; ready to continue yet another game against Guy.

“Your turn,” she said after forcing the hardly chewed meat down her throat.

I couldn’t help but notice how Guy stared at Suzuki whilst she took a bite of that meat.

“Are you hungry, Guy?” I said.

“Sadly no,” said Guy, “With my body like this I don’t get hungry. Even if I ate something I wouldn’t be able to taste it.”

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh after seeing me flinch, “What I wouldn’t do for a soft-drink, double cheeseburger, and salty fries.”

He moved his chess piece.

“What’s a soft drink?” I said.

“Something from my world,” said Guy, “It’s fizzy and has bubbles in it.”

“Okay,” I said, not really understanding at all what he meant.

“I’ll show you what a soft drink is in the dining room sometime if you like?” he said.

I smiled and gave a nod, happy to see Guy was also being as nice as Hress, Red, Angelica, and Suzuki.

Their latest game lasted for an hour and still hadn’t finished.

Suzuki moved her piece.

“Check,” she said.

Guy slowly realized the trap she had set up for him.

“Crap,” he mumbled, and after some thought he moved the piece which looked like a horse to defend his King.

“Yatta!” Suzuki cried.

She moved her little soldier piece forward one square on the board.

Guy let himself take stock over every inch of the board before conceding.

“Yeah, that’s checkmate,” he said, “Good game.”

They shook hands, Suzuki looking absolutely delighted for having won her first game.

“One more?” said Guy.

“No,” said Suzuki, tiredly, “I’m done.”

She stood and stretched.

“That was fun,” she said.

“Want to play again tomorrow?” said Guy.

“No,” said Suzuki in a sing-song tone. She then gave a bow, “Thank you for teaching me how to play. I am very tired and will go to sleep now. Goodnight.”

She walked over to a vacant armchair close by and took the blanket draped over the top, sat herself down, and closed her eyes ready for sleep.

It was then heavy bootsteps echoed throughout the tower. Angelica, Guy, Suzuki, and me looked to see Hress emerging into view at the stairs.

“Chicory,” he said, “Amaryllis’s ready to see you now.”

Feeling a knot in my stomach I wondered why he said it as if it were a bad thing.