Small Town

There are some things in life that Ben just doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand why his father left his mother when he was three, he doesn’t understand why he misses his old teddy his mother gave away when he was ten, he doesn’t understand why he started smoking when he was fifteen, and he doesn’t understand why he’s here now, in this strange room in this strange house and he can’t leave.

His head hurts and he’s very tired and right now; he’d do anything for a smoke.

Earlier this morning he had woken up, thinking that today would pretty normal. He’d go hang out with Maurice and bike around town. Boy, he was so wrong.

Instead, he’d called Maurice, who said his grumpy old grandmother was “bein’ a right bitch and needed to fuckin’ die right fuckin’ now,” (his words, not Ben’s. Obviously. He’d never call someone’s grand a “right bitch”, because that’s obviously rude) and that he couldn’t because, “she’s fussin’ about everything in the house,” and he can’t go out because “the house needed to be made up; the ladies are coming by tonight and every speck of dust needs to disappear, apparently.”

The ladies so happened to be her weekly book club. A group of very cantankerous old women who read one book a week and then came together to criticize the author so hard that the book looked like a child’s picture book.

So that ruled Maurice out. And since Ben talked to no one else at school, he’s on his own for the day.

And then he decided to bike around town, because that’s what he normally did. Consequently, he pulled an old sweater over his head, shoved his phone, wallet, and a pack of cigarettes in his back pocket and left the house. Ma was already at work, so it wasn’t like he had to ask her or anything. As long as he was home for supper.

Again, boy was he so, incredibly wrong.

But he went out anyways, and rode around.

And then he got to that weird part of town that everyone warned him not to go. Probably because of the mass amount of homeless people and crackheads roaming the streets. But that wasn’t really scary. Because Ben grew up around homeless people and crackheads anyways. Sure, where he lived was middle class (you could say), but before that, he was wandering around being asked for money or drugs or food when he was thirteen. So it wasn’t a big deal.

He was sure that with Maurice, he wouldn’t be there. Because Maurice was a hot shot in the community. His parents were these big lawyers, so he was just a bit spoiled. Okay, he was really spoiled, and his parents hated it when he hung out with Ben.

Ben’s mother worked at the supermarket.

So what?

He’d stopped when he’d ridden around for an hour or so to have a smoke. Some homeless man sitting on the ground next to the bench asked him for a cigarette. Ben handed one over, lit it for him, and then left.

He had biked a little further around before stopping at a massive looking house. It was creepy looking. It had vines growing all over the exterior, weeds all over the yard, trees everywhere- the whole shebang.

It was awesome.

So Ben being Ben decided that, since he had nothing better to do, he might as well have a look around. Maybe he’d find something cool that he could take home and add to his weird collection of stuff back at home. He parked his bike around the side in the alleyway, looked around for a place he could go in.

There was a broken window on the second floor.

Ben isn’t athletic, but if he wanted something, he got it. He found himself standing on the edge of a three story house on the second level, carefully edging into a broken window that hopefully he would get cut on.

He tumbled in a second later, barely missing his ear and ripping through his jeans. Good thing he wore them too. Otherwise that would’ve been a nasty cut. Ma would chew him out later for ripping jeans, but whatever.

He looked around. It was dark and musty. Only slivers of light filtered through the boarded up windows.

Ben blinked.

And then he sneezed.

All the left over furniture was covered. Just like in the movies.

He grinned.

He touched a few things and then moved on to the hallway. Except something was really fucking weird. The hallways were clean. No dust, nothing. It was even lighted. Electricity and all.

“Weird.”

There was a cough. It took a moment to realize that he wasn’t the one that coughed. Ben dug his fingernails into his left palm and slowly turned around.

There was a man standing in an open door, face half hidden in the shadows. And then he raised a hood and slipped it over his face and stepped out of the door and shut it.

“What are you doing here?”

And that voice shouldn’t have made his stomach squirm and heart feel like it was going to explode. In a good way? He should probably run screaming in the opposite direction and hurl himself out of the window and book the shit out of here.

“I should ask you the same question. And who the hell are you?”

Maurice always said he had a big mouth.

“I own this place. Trespassing, I think?”

Ben dropped his right hand from his left and shrugged. “It looked abandoned from the outside. I thought I’d just look around. I didn’t realize anyone was actually living in this dump.”

The man flinched. “It’s not a dump.”

“It is! And it’s smack-dab in the middle of shit-town.”

The man growled softly and Ben stepped back a little. “Er… Maybe I should leave.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “but maybe you don’t. Maybe you can’t.”

“You’re crazy.”

“And what if I am?”

“Then I should probably vault myself out the window and leave. We can pretend this never happened.”

“We could. But I don’t think I can.”

And that’s the last thing he remembers because something hits him hard in the back of the head.

That’s how it led up to here. Ben with a splitting headache and a dire need for a smoke. But his wallet, cigarettes, and phone are gone. On the brightside, he’s on a big plushy bed, and it looks and smells clean. But when he looks out the window, outside is black as night.

Ma is going to kill him when he gets home.

Standing up, he wobbles a bit on his feet before going for the door. It won’t open, so he jiggles the handle a few times, and then starts banging on it when he realizes that it’s locked.

“Someone want to let me out!?”

No one answers and he growls softly, turning around and going to the window. It’s locked as well and when he tries to smash it open, the chair just bounces off and hits him in the chest. He stares at the window. The glass looks thick as shit and bulletproof as hell.

“Great. This shit always happens. Held hostage by a loony,” he mutters, rubbing a hand across his face. He touches the back of his head where someone had hit him. There’s a large lump growing there and he winces when he presses two fingers to it. “I should start listening to people more often.”

Ben flops back on the bed on his back, arms spread. A second later, there’s a soft rap at the door. “Hello?”

He sits up and goes to the door and puts his mouth right up to the door and screams like a banshee and yells, “Let me the fuck go you crazy bastard!”

It sounds like the person’s hit their head on the door from surprise. And then a soft, “I’m sorry, but Master says you can’t leave and he requests that you join him for dinner.”

It’s a female voice, and she’s quiet for a moment and says, “I’m going to unlock the door. Promise you won’t do something stupid.”

Ben scowls. “I want to leave.”

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because Mast-”

Who the fuck has masters these days anyways? It’s probably some crackpot fool. “Blast “Master”. I want to leave. Ma’s going to kick my arse if I miss supper!”

“I can’t. Please. You have to believe me. He wants you to eat with him.”

Ben pauses and thinks about it. “If I eat with him, will he let me go?”

“He might. I don’t know what he thinks, ever.”

“Then no. I won’t do it. I want to leave! This is crazy!”

And then she says, “Then you can’t leave. I’m sorry.”

She’s gone and Ben’s alone again. He puts the chair that threw at the window upright and sits on it. “This is bullshit. Really.”

He looks around the room. There’s a vanity with lotion and makeup on it. Well… his skin is a little dry. He stands up and goes over and squirts some lotion on his hands and rubs it.

He sits back down.

Absolutely nothing to do.

Half an hour later, he’s falling asleep when there’s another knock at his door. This time it’s a man’s voice. “Hello? Are you there?”

Ben blinks at the ceiling and frowns, “Where else would I be? I can’t leave this stupid room.”

There’s a soft click and the door opens. A tall, lanky man stands in the open door and motions for him to come. “Master said you weren’t allowed to eat because you didn’t want to eat with him. But you must be starving.”

And as if his stomach was waiting for someone to say that, it growls angrily at him. Ben looks sheepishly at his stomach. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I don’t think that’s really fair. So come, let’s get you something to eat and Carl and I will give you a tour of the house. Okay?”

Ben stands up and stares suspiciously at him. “Can’t you let me leave?”

“Master Adam will know. I can let you have something to eat, but you can’t leave. I’m sorry.”

“That’s what everyone seems to be saying to me lately,” he mumbles and slowly drags himself out the door, past the man.

On the way to the kitchens, the man introduces himself as Lachlan and then starts pointing out rooms and their functions to Ben. Ben’s not really interested, but maybe it will help him when he’s trying to leave, so he listens.

When they reach the kitchen, Lachlan opens the door. The kitchen is enormous, and a round woman, a man, and a child are inside. When they hear the door open, everyone turns around. The round lady smiles widely at him and rushes over.

“Hello! I’m Mrs. Peters! This is my son Chase, and this is Steve, the cook.”

Then she shoves him in a chair and plops a mountain of food in front of him with some tea. She starts talking a mile a minute, and Chase asks him a ton of questions. He looks like he’s about nine.

Ben wonders what all these people are doing here, working for this man. “Master Adam”, Lachlan had called him.

A moment later, the door to the kitchen opens, and a plump man walks in. He’s frowning and looks stiff and strict. Lachlan grins and motions him over. “Carl! We were just about to-”

“This is a horrible idea. Master is going to know, and he’ll punish all of us. Just you wait and see.”

“Oh shut it. We can’t just let the poor guy starve to death. And it won’t hurt to show him around.”

Carl scowls and crosses his arms over his broad chest. “I still say it’s a bad idea.”

Lachlan ignores him and turns back around to talk to Mrs. Peters.

Chase is still asking questions, even if Ben isn’t answering any of them while he eats.

Carl looks over at Ben and snaps, “Are you finished? The sooner this “tour” is over, the better. I’d rather Master didn’t find out, otherwise he’ll-”

“BLAH,” yells Lachlan, “stop with the punishing. Who cares? We haven’t seen someone from the outside in a long time.”

“How long have you all worked here?” Ben asks through a mouthful of steak.

“As long as I can remember,” Steve says, vaguely, and goes back to working.

Descriptive.

Ben finishes up eating, and as soon as he puts his fork down, Lachlan is dragging him up by the elbow and leading him out the door. He starts jabbering away and pointing things out. Carl is behind them, scowling and giving input every couple rooms.

They get back to the side of the house that looks slightly familiar to where Ben first got in. Carl points to the door that he saw “Master” walk out of when he first met him, and said, “You never go in there without the Master’s permission. Ever.”

Ben nods and his mind is racing. He doesn’t know what’s behind the door and he really wants to know what’s behind the door. So while Carl and Lachlan argue about something like the lights, Ben steps back to the room.

He looks around before opening the door. It’s dark inside, so he switches the light on. The room seems normal enough, but there’s a large portrait on the right. It’s of a handsome young man with dark hair and dark eyes. He’s smiling and he looks like he was in the middle of laughing at something behind the painter.

Ben smiles slightly and reaches out to touch the picture.

A hand comes flying out of nowhere and grabs his and yanks it back. Startled, he pulls back and turns quickly. It’s Master Adam and his hood isn’t covering his face. It’s scarred and twisted and his eyes are wild.

And he starts to yell, spit flying from his mouth. Ben is so frightened, he stands there frozen while Master yells something about never coming into the room, how did he get out of his room, and what the hell did he think he was doing.

And then he runs. Ben runs as fast as he can, past Master and out the door, down the hallway, and looking for a place where he can leave. He tries the room where he first came in, but the door is locked, but he keeps trying for a place he can leave.

He finds an unlocked room downstairs and thank the maker that the window is unlocked. He tumbles head first out of the window. He makes a run for it out into the street. A block away, he bends over to catch his breath. Then he remembers he left his bike.

Blast.

It doesn’t matter. A lost bike is better than being kidnapped and held hostage by some psychopathic freak that looks like he’d been in a blender or something.

“Hey man, you think you could loan me a couple bucks?”

Ben turns to see a scraggly looking man walking towards him. He pats his back pocket and realizes that he’s left his wallet and phone back at the house too. He fumes and turns to the guy, “Sorry. I forgot my wallet. Maybe someone els-”

The man’s eyes turn dark under the lamplight and he’s eyebrows form a tight ‘v’ shape. He looks pissed.

“Uhh, look, I had a rough night, and I lost my wallet, I don’t have the money.”

He starts to turn to walk away, but someone else steps in front of him, “Really now?” a bigger guy asks, glaring down at him.

Ben swallows.

Well shit.

The big man starts pushing him towards an alley and Ben being shorter and less muscled than others (ma always said he had a “small bone structure”), has no choice but to be manhandled to the dark alley, the whole way howling and kicking.

The first guy covers his mouth and he bites down hard on the hand. The guy hollers and punches him in the stomach. Ben doubles over, wheezing and waiting for a second punch when the smaller of the two topples over.

Master Adam (this is getting ridiculous because he’s not Ben’s master. He decides to just call him Adam in his head.) stands in his place, a four by four piece of wood in his hand. He’s snarling and the bigger man yells and lets go of Ben and starts for Adam.

There’s a scuffle and grunts of pain for a good ten minutes before the crackhead topples over as well, joining his friend. Adam is panting heavily. He has the beginnings of a black eye forming on his left eye, a split lip, and a large gash on his forehead that’s letting a slow stream of blood out.

Ben stands up from his position next to the dumpster and blinks awkwardly, “Uh, thanks. I think.”

Adam nods stiffly and wipes at his forehead.

“We should probably take care of that before you bleed yourself out,” Ben mumbles.

Fuckin’ fuck. Now he has to help this guy out because he’s pretty sure he saved his life.

“Can you handle getting back? Or…”

Adam sniffs slightly and nods, “Think so.”

And starts to limp back in the direction of the house. He limps for exactly two minutes before he’s falling and Ben runs over and snatches him back up.

“Shit. I think I should help you. Come on.”

“Thanks,” Adam mumbles softly, turning his face away from Ben when he puts an arm around his shoulder.

Alright, so maybe the blender thing he said before was a bit over the top. The adrenaline was pumping, okay? He just looks like he’s had a few things burned off and had a bad skin graphing job. Like he paid ten bucks for a new face. Which wasn’t really new. Whatever.

They make it back to the house, and when Ben opens the door, everyone comes rushing forwards. Mrs. Peters has a first aid kit, Chase is holding a bucket of hot water, Lachlan has a towel, and Carl is just looking worried.

They all start talking at once, all the way up to the bathroom, and Adam winces and shooes them all away.

Ben stays behind.

He shuts the door and comes back over and starts wiping up blood and dirt from Adams face.

“I can do it,” Adam snaps, snatching the towel away, but grimaces when he reaches up for his face.

“No you can’t,” Ben snaps back, and takes the towel back and continues wiping at his face.

Adam doesn’t look at him the whole time.

Ben manages to clean him up and uses two butterfly stitches to close up the wound on Adam’s head. When he’s finished, he stands up and starts to clean up. Adam sits there quietly and when Ben starts for the door, Adam speaks up.

“I-I… I’m sorry I scared you earlier. I just… no one’s supposed to go in there. And… and thank you for you know… cleaning me up.”

Ben smiles slightly, regardless of the situation and turns slightly. “It’s alright. And thank you for helping me out back there. I’m not the biggest of guys.”

The sides of Adam’s lips twitch up slightly, and Ben leaves the bathroom to let Adam clean himself up.

Lachlan is standing outside of the bathroom, waiting.

He smiles when he sees Ben.

Ben smiles back and turns to go to the room he first woke up in.

Maybe one night. Ma shouldn’t be too worried. He can just say that he stayed over at Maurice’s, and that he forgot to phone.

He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.