Symposium of the Reaper: Volume 2

XIV

The Hunger…It Aches

"A re you certain this is the right place? Seems a bit too…quaint."

This is the address, Dorothy. He also gave me specific directions and said we couldn’t miss it.

Really, Danny, you should be more careful about mingling with strangers. What type of person invites someone over for supper after having just met them?

But Dorothy, you were the one that wanted to meet new people in the area, right?

Yeah, well…goodness, this is just a bit different than what we are used to, that’s all.

That’s what happens when you move from the city to a small town, Danny grins. There is bound to be an adjustment period, and I’m sure having a new friend will assist with that.

Maybe you’re right, I will try to keep an open mind. What is his name again?

Eugene. He’s a great chef, as well. He told me so when we met at the market.

I sure am hungry, Dorothy admits, lightly touching her stomach. I wonder how far away the next closest house is from here?

Dorothy continues walking gingerly down the dirt path, scanning the surrounding environment of crooked trees and misleading shadows. The wind blows lightly with an atmospheric whistle.

I’m excited, are you? You’re going to love him, I’m sure of it! Danny enthuses.

Is that his food I smell cooking? Wow… Dorothy stutter steps with her nose in the air, more excited over the prospect of finally eating than meeting Eugene. I’m sure he’s very nice.

Oh, he is. That must be the cottage right there, Danny points, picking up the pace in anticipation. Do you want to knock, or should I?

I…don’t care either way. You go ahead, he is your friend after all.

Yes, but after dinner, he is going to be OUR friend. Gosh, living in a small town is going to be so great for us.

Danny grins a bit too wide as he turns to knock on the door. He raps his knuckles three times on the wood as they both stand back with bated breath. Dorothy swallows hard, staring at the foreboding door apprehensively.

Danny, welcome! Eugene greets as he swings the door inward, placing a hand on Danny’s shoulder. And you must be Dorothy! Beautiful, just as described. Please, come in! Come in, come in, there are creatures out there just waiting to pounce. I kid, but really, let us get inside.

That is very kind, Eugene. You have a beautiful home and we can’t thank you enough for welcoming us, Dorothy offers.

Nonsense, just having you here is entirely my pleasure. I understand it must have been quite the trek for you both, so allow me to act as your servant for the evening. Host duties and the like, and I’m afraid I must insist.

Thank you. I couldn’t help but notice the wonderful smell of food cooking as we approached your house. May I ask what we are having tonight?

Well… Eugene grins, I typically prefer to keep that a surprise, but I will just say it is a stew, of sorts. No more telling!

It smells delicious, Eugene, Danny interjects. I’m not much of a cook, so I bet you Dorothy is just dying to eat a home cooked meal she didn’t have to slave over. His laughter is saccharine.

Do you enjoy beef stew, Dorothy?

Oh, goodness me, I do, she salivates.

Splendid. I am sure you will love your meal, in that case. Forgive my manners! Allow me to take your coats. Eugene grabs their clothing garments and lays them nonchalantly over the back of the sofa. Sit, please.

Dorothy flashes a meek grin and sits back against her coat, grimacing at the wrinkles she will have to iron out later. Danny plops down with a large, fascinated grin.

Eugene, I wanted Dorothy to be caught up by the time we arrived, so I told her all about you on our way here.

Good things, I hope! Only in jest, Dorothy, Eugene winks at her. Danny also told me quite a bit about you at the market. I couldn’t wait to meet you.

Yes, umm…likewise. I am very happy to be here. We just moved into town and it is always comforting to make new friends. Danny and I move often for work.

You know, Danny, in our very long conversation and all the things we discussed, I do not believe you ever told me what it is you do?

I-

Hold that thought for just a moment, I believe my egg timer is going off. Allow me to go check on the food and then we can continue from there.

Eugene scurries into the kitchen through the saloon-style door. Dorothy slowly swivels her head to stare directly at Danny.

What is it, dear?

I didn’t hear an egg timer…he’s very-

Isn’t he great? I can’t wait to come over here for dinner all the time! What do you think, maybe every Saturday night? Friday AND Saturday? Danny lights up.

Won’t that decision be at least partially up to him?

I need to learn how to cook! I can make the three of us supper just like we’re having here! Luckily, I know a great cook who can teach me.

Are you also going to cook for me if Eugene isn’t around? Dorothy mocks.

Danny sits perplexed, as if the thought had never crossed his mind.

But…you cook, so why would I also make food?

Eugene bursts through the swinging kitchen door like a tornado, beaming and holding a washcloth tightly around his left hand.

Not ready quite yet, but I can assure you, it is delicious! Couldn’t help myself, I had to take a sample. Naughty me, naughty indeed.

Is everything okay, Eugene? You’re bleeding, Dorothy notices with genuine concern.

Oh, you mean this? Just a scratch, that’s all.

Eugene adjusts his makeshift bandage, accidentally dropping it on the table with a sodden plop. Danny is too pre-occupied to notice, reveling in his surroundings.

Eugene…that’s a LOT of blood, let me help you. Did you accidentally cut off your fingertip?

He spreads his fingers apart and quickly gives them a flutter.

This? No, that happened long ago, however I opened the wound once again with a cheese grater. Clumsy me! he chuckles, covering his hand again.

He’s fine, dear. Don’t be rude, it’s unbecoming to bring attention to a deformity. No offense, Eugene.

But Dorothy is not as easily fooled as Danny, for on his other three fingers, Eugene is missing a knuckle or two as well. She is shocked that she did not notice this before.

None taken, Danny. You’re too kind, Dorothy. I am perfectly fine, and immensely enjoying the company this evening.

Blood drips from the washcloth onto the table, seemingly in conjunction with the grandfather clock beside them.

Eugene, Dorothy and I were thinking it might be fun to do this every weekend? Danny bubbles over. Dorothy is mortified.

That WOULD be fun, although maybe we should see how the night goes first, Eugene replies, grinning. Pardon me, just a moment.

Dorothy glares at Danny across the table as Eugene dashes back into the kitchen.

You didn’t tell me he was missing most of a hand! she chastises under her breath.

I…I guess I didn’t notice at the market. We were talking so much, I didn’t look at his fingers. What does it matter, anyway?

I could have not embarrassed myself had I known, Danny!

You’re fine, honey. He doesn’t seem upset in the slightest.

Eugene bursts through the door once again, frightening Dorothy and causing her to jump up and spin around to look behind her. She catches a glimpse of the kitchen each time the door swings back and forth like a pendulum. A gargantuan black cauldron hangs in a wood burning fireplace. How incredibly odd the countryside is.

Nosy, nosy! Trying to steal a peek at your supper? he teases. Eugene is now wearing a coat while carrying a tray with one hand. He places it down on the table gently and hands a wine glass to both Danny and Dorothy before taking his own, which is nearly overflowing. The left arm of the coat appears to be hanging entirely limp.

To new friends! Danny toasts, raising his glass.

To friends, Eugene echoes, downing his entire cup of wine in one go. Ah, delicious! What’s the matter, Dorothy? Don’t you like wine?

I do, but unfortunately I don’t tolerate it very well, so I just have to take my time. It is very tasty, though.

She’s a bit of a lightweight, Eugene.

Thanks for clarifying, Danny. Take all the time you need, my dear. After all, we are here for pleasure, are we not? No need to stress yourself on my account.

Eugene turns behind him and grabs an open bottle of wine, pouring another massive glass and gulping it down as if it is set to expire.

I will take a refill, as well! Danny exclaims, copying Eugene and cascading the wine down his throat.

Really, Danny, you should pace yourself. You wouldn’t want to get too sauced and not be able to take Dorothy home, right? Here, have another glass.

Thank you, just one more for me in that case.

Cheers, Eugene wishes him as he pours another. We wouldn’t want you going thirsty, either, not under my roof. Dinner is ALMOST done, just sit tight.

And with that, he vanishes as quickly as he ran into the room.

Danny, I don’t know how I feel about this anymore. Did you SEE his arm? It’s gone!

And where could it possibly have gone, Dorothy? Maybe he was cold and had it tucked inside his coat?

Doesn’t that just seem a bit strange like everything else so far tonight? she pleads. Why would he carry a tray of drinks with one hand while the other is tucked inside his shirt? I don’t like this.

You’ve lived in the city too long, sweetheart. The bright lights and taxi cabs have made you a distrusting person, but I have a feeling you will warm up to the country soon enough. I know I already am, he boasts, sipping wine.

Dorothy rolls her eyes in disdain, knowing in her gut that something isn’t right. The food, however, smells absolutely wonderful…the one sip of wine she took has her stomach grumbling even more than before. Perhaps it wouldn’t be horrible to at least sample the meal…

Ten minutes pass, then twenty, as Danny and Dorothy sit quietly at the table waiting for Eugene to return. Danny finished his glass of wine and snuck another from the bottle Eugene kept hidden in plain sight on the shelf.

Dinner is served! My sincerest apologies for the wait, but nothing good comes quickly. Here we have a plate of cheeses to pair with your wine. Dorothy, you didn’t finish your glass!

Yes, I mean no…I was waiting for my supper.

Here’s your supper. Finish your wine first.

Dorothy looks around uncomfortably and decides to down the rest of the glass. One quick course of dinner then they can be on their way. No use in arguing now.

There. What are we eating? she asks in return.

As I said, a cheese plate for starters. Dig in, he says, pouring another cup for Dorothy. I will bring in the second and third courses now. Eugene turns to walk away, but is obviously limping with a crutch under his arm and Dorothy sees it clear as day.

Um, Eugene?

Yes, my dear Dorothy? He turns to face her.

Are you alright? You’re limping now.

Eugene’s pant leg seems to be as hollow as his shirt sleeve, although with nowhere else to stuff the limb, as could be the case with his arm.

It looks like your leg is missing? Dorothy questions incredulously.

I have always been this way, Dorothy, nothing is wrong. Quite the opposite, really, he beams, downing another glass of wine.

Danny? Anything?

Danny looks back and forth between Dorothy and Eugene’s missing leg contemplatively. I would love another glass of wine!

Oh, alright, you big oaf. Knock yourself out.

Eugene fills Danny’s glass to the brim as Dorothy’s panic begins to crescendo. Her eyes dart around the room frantically seeking answers, yet finding nothing. A warming sensation crawls outward from her core, blanketing her