Itcheetoe

Darkness is one of the trickiest labyrinths ever created. It’s a maze with no walls but a path still must be followed. No guarantee that continuing forward will deliver you to your destination, but what choice do you have?

None other than to stumble and wait with wide eyes trying to grasp just a slither of light. Then, exactly that appears.

He reaches out and feels a wall in front of him. Desperately he feels the side of the wall up and down. He calls out desperately, but his voice is muted from the screaming he had gone through just hours before.

Something round is at the base of his fingertips. Cold and metalic. He grasps it with both hands shaking it violently; that is until it pulls away from him.

Daylight floods the young man’s vision causing his eyes to instinctively squint. As they slowly adjust a figure can be seen with the sunlight cascading off his sides.

A tall man with greying hair stands in the doorway. His clean pressed work shirt rivals the young man’s tattered brown clothing. As the sun dims behind the man, his smile is what shines brightest.

The two look at each other for a moment in silence. The younger man was afraid but optimistic the older man, patient.

“You look hungry, son.” The older man finally says.

The young man nods, cautiously.

The older man smiles and moves aside. “Well, you better come in before your supper gets cold.”

At first, the young man looks confused. As he looks back behind him, he sees that the darkness that once enveloped him is gone. To his back was another door with a number on it and to his side was a hallway with even more doors.

Although he’s not entirely sure how he got here, he definitely did not walk in a straight line. The path he followed here was gone.

His stomach growling silences his thoughts. Then, despite his better judgment, he walks inside.

Past the door, the space was quite quaint. A small living space with plenty of windows comfortable furnishings and a little kitchenette off to the side.

“Could you please close the door? I don’t want the warm air to get out.” The older man calls from the kitchenette.

“Ah yes, right sorry.” The young man apologized while obliging the request. As he closes the door he seals in the aroma of food. “What is that smell?”

“Turkey thighs.” The older man stated. “Manager’s special down at the market. Also got some fresh asparagus.” He said with a smile. “Go on sit! Sit!”

Beside the younger man was a soft secondhand couch. Quickly, he took his seat.

The older man approached with a small off-white folding tray in his arms. He reaches underneath to fully extend it to form a tabletop. Then he assembles another on the opposite side of the couch.

The young man runs his hands over the finished wood and puts a little pressure on the top. Despite its flimsy appearance it holds strong.

“Hot food! Watch your hands!” The older man announced coming back with a plate of food.

The younger man retracts his hands just in time as the older man places a plate of hot turkey and gravy with roasted asparagus on the side. Then he places one on the other tray and takes a position behind it and starts digging in. Although the young man can’t get a feeling out of his stomach.

“I’m sorry I don’t have the money to pay for this.”

“Oh, that’s alright.” The older man says between swallows. “Only cost for supper is the company. That reminds me- what’s your name, son?”

“Fischer. John Fischer.” The young man says.

“Well Mr. Fischer, my name is Phillip Blacksten. Welcome to our little supper club.” The old man says.

“Our?” John asks. “There are more people here?”

“Not right now no.” Phillip corrects. “People come, stay as long as they need to, and then they’re on their way.”

“And what about you?”

“Me? I live here. This is my home.”

“And… where is this?”

“Harpers Ferry, West Virginia.”

John furrows his brow. “Come again?”

Phillip laughs heartily. “Didn’t figure you would know it. You’re probably pretty far from home right now. Where are you from, son?”

“The Kingdom of Plear.”

“Oh, that’s a new one. I don’t think I’ve heard of there before.” Phillip says as he takes a few more bites of his turkey.

John stares blankly at his plate. “Is- this a different world?”

“I think so. Or at least different from the world you came from.”

John goes quiet for a moment. “Am I dead?”

“No!” John asserts. “Nothing like that. Just a little lost that’s all. Folks always find their way back eventually. But so long as you’re lost, at least you get a hot meal along the way. And that’s why people show up at my door and that’s why I’ve started cooking more than myself.”

Phillip looks over and sees John sitting stone-faced.

“What’s on your mind, son?” Phillip asks as he continues to work on his plate.

“It’s just I’m so confused. There are so many things I don’t understand.” John exasperates. “Just why-.”

“Before you go on and ask your questions let me ask you one.” Phillip interrupts. “Does it really matter? Will it help you along your journey? And even if you think it will unfortunately, for a majority of your questions, I don’t know the answer. So, why worry yourself?”

John thinks to himself silently. “I’m just scared.”

“What are you scared of son?”

“Going home. Not much is waiting for me there. Truth be told… I don’t know when the next hot meal like this is going to be.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I don’t have any money.” John whispers shamefully.

“What’s that?”

“Cause I’m broke! Alright? I don’t have any money.” John snapped.

Phillip’s patient gaze stares through John. He recollects himself.

“Sorry.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of.” Phillip returns with a smile. “Any reason why that is?”

“Can’t work.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I steal.”

“And why is that?”

John doesn’t speak.

“It’s alright. Why is that?”

“…because I’m hungry.”

“And then that brings us to our original problem.”

Phillip rubs his greying whiskers before standing up. “Come here I want to show you something.”

Phillip leads John over to the kitchenette where a crock pot sits idly on the counter. Steam billows out as the lid is removed to reveal several pounds of gravy-covered pork chops.

“If I got you an ice chest with these and the veggies how long do you think it could last you?”

John stares at the pot with eyes wide. “I- um- two weeks? Probably a week. At least.” He stumbles.

“A week? Do you think you can make a good amount of money in that time? Enough money to buy next week’s food?”

“Uh- yes, most likely.” John confirms. “But you’re not really going to give me all of that for free… are you?”

“Only on one condition. You go back over to your plate, and you finish every scrap on there and while you do think about what you’d want for dessert. I have left over apple pie that was given to me by a neighbor and I have a slice of coconut cake from the firehall.”

John waits for Phillip’s expression to waver, but it never does. Just a kind smile making a genuine offer. “I’d like that a lot, sir.”

“Oh, none of that now, please just Phillip. We eat at the same supper club after all.” He says with a laugh. “Now come on before your food really gets cold.”

John smiles and returns to his seat. His eyes anxiously trace over the utensils. His hands grasp them carefully as he slowly moves them toward his plate. He cuts into the tip of the porkchop, and it comes to tender shreds as soon as the knife makes contact with it. The fork is unable to scoop up all the shreds, but John is more than determined. Gravy cascades off the meat and plops back down to the plate. He raises the fork to his mouth and embraces it.

It’s delicious.

Hastily he scoops up the gravy with the tips of the asparagus and swallows it in one gulp.

“Easy, son.” Phillip calls from the kitchen. “It sits easier if you eat it slow.”

“Sorry it’s just really good!”

“Well, I’m certainly glad.” Phillip replies with a smile.

“Are you sure you don’t want anymore?” John asks with a mouthful of pork.

“I’m sure but thank you. Afterall, I got to get your food packed up.”

Phillip reaches into the top shelf of the pantry closet and pulls out a dull red cooler with cuts and scrapes all up the side. As the weight is shifted onto his shoulders the cooler is quick to fall to the floor.

“What’s that?” John called.

“This is the cooler I was telling you about.” Phillip answered. “I’m going to fill it up with ice and it’ll let the food stay fresh for- well at least a little while.”

“You’re just going to give me that?”

“Sure! I’m due for a new one anyways.” Phillip justified. “Besides I think having a reminder of our talk today will be good for you.”

Phillip reaches into the freezer and pulls out all the ice trays inside and starts dumping them into the ice bucket. It barely fills the bottom given how wide it is but it’ll do.

He then loads up the ice box with all the leftovers of today’s meal making it quite heavy.

Around that time John finishes his meal; even going so far as to lick the plate clean.

“I take it you enjoyed?” Phillip jests.

“I don’t say it lightly when I say this was the best meal of my life.”

“Well, that’s very high praise, Mr. Fischer.”

“It’s cause, I mean it seriously.”

Just then John starts to wince in pain and covers his ears. “Do you hear that?” He asks.

Phillip just looks back at him and smiles. Then slowly he raises his hand and points at the door.

As John turns, he sees a glowing white outline where the door used to be.

“Do you see that?” John asks.

“Nope. Just a door.” Phillip returns. “But that means it’s time for you to go.” Phillip bends over and picks up the cooler. and hands it carefully to John. “Now I’m not sure where you can get ice where you’re from but every now and then top it off so you can keep more food in there.”

John looks down at the cooler in delight. “Thank you so much for everything, Phillip. But uh- before I go… what’s Lovie?”

“Come again?”

“Lovie. It says on the cooler ‘Phillip and Lovie’ written in blank ink.”

“Oh! I didn’t realize how old it was.” Phillip says surprised. “Lovie is the name of a really good friend. We used to share that cooler together.” He says choosing his words very carefully.

“And you’re sure it’s alright for me to keep?”

“Poisitve.” Phillip said. “She’d want you to have it.”

“Well tell her I said thanks.” John said with a smile. “Will I see you again?”

“Most likely not. But if you know how to write, send me a letter sometime. Mail has the strangest way of finding its way to me.”

“Alright I will. Often. Take care, Phillip.”

“You as well, John.”

John smiles and turns his back to Phillip as he walks towards the door.

“Watch out for any critters on your way back and tell your folks I say hi!”

“What’s that?” John shouts quite loudly.

Phillip just waves his hand and tells him to just keep going.

John nods and with that he walks through the door itself, dissolving into transparency.

Phillip lets out a sigh of relief, grateful that tonight’s dinner cleanup was going to be easy. Nonetheless, the dishes weren’t going to start themselves. So, he turned his attention to the sink.

He rolled up his sleeves and started the water.

“…he was nice don’t you think? I think he’s going to do just fine. He seems like the type that just needed a helping hand when they’re in a tough spot. He’ll pull through. I know you always thought I had too much faith in people. You were probably more grateful I finally got rid of that cooler more than anything.” Phillip sighed. “Although it was good seeing it again.”

The conversation goes on for a little while longer before Phillip’s thoughts start to trail off.

“What do you figure I should cook for our guests tomorrow, Lovie?”