‹ Prequel: Going Bush
Going Bush 2: Suburbia
63
“Sorry about that,” she broke the silence once they were safely inside.
Taylor silently made his way to his usual spot and knelt. She fetched a cloth from her desk and made her way over to him, tending to the wound on his forehead.
“Are you alright?” she asked, noting his silence.
Taylor nodded.
“Just shaken, Miss,” he admitted, closing his eyes as he absently rubbed his wrists.
“Carlos should know better,” she tutted, “your collar is golden for a reason.”
Taylor didn’t respond as he tried to quash the million questions running through his head. If he needed to know something, he would be told.
She sighed once she’d cleaned the blood away, retreating to her desk to find a bandage.
“May I ask a question, Miss?” he suddenly built up the courage to ask.
She paused a moment. He’d never asked anything like that before.
“By all means,” she responded, making her way back to him and securing the bandage to his forehead.
Taylor took a deep breath, trying to think of how to word it.
“Why do they do it?” he asked as he kept his eyes down.
“I’d like to say he’s trying to make a point,” the woman began snidely, “but Carlos likes his liquor. He tends to get carried away. He does it for fun.”
Taylor closed his eyes again as if processing what she’d said.
“Would they have killed me?” he asked.
“If I hadn’t been there? Quite possibly.”
He opened his eyes again as she finished up and stood in front of him.
“He also doesn’t like Americans,” she added, “unfortunately you stand out here.”
Taylor had noticed every morning that he was the only white man in the breakfast hall. Part of the reason he was glad to be hidden behind her on the floor.
“Why did you choose me?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t overstepping his boundaries by asking too much.
He looked up, but didn’t hold eye contact.
“Do you remember…” the woman leant forward slightly making him nervous, “the very first thing you ever said in my presence?”
Taylor frowned as he thought back.
“I wanted to know where my brother was,” he looked up curiously.
“Right,” she nodded, “for me, that showed protectiveness. You were more worried for your brother than you were for your own situation. I hoped that one day you would show the same concern for my children.”
Taylor blushed, lowering his eyes again.
“I spent a long time looking for someone like you,” she admitted, “over a year, in fact. I didn’t expect to have to go all the way to Dallas. But considering your progress with them over the last few days, I’m very glad that I did.”
“Thank you Miss,” Taylor said softly, his mind turned back to worrying for Zac all of a sudden.
“I’d like you to spend the night here,” she insisted, stooping to loop his chain around the leg of the desk, “Carlos won’t dare bother you while you’re here. In the morning, we’ll return to normal.”
Taylor just nodded, waiting until she walked out before awkwardly settling down onto the rug.
Taylor silently made his way to his usual spot and knelt. She fetched a cloth from her desk and made her way over to him, tending to the wound on his forehead.
“Are you alright?” she asked, noting his silence.
Taylor nodded.
“Just shaken, Miss,” he admitted, closing his eyes as he absently rubbed his wrists.
“Carlos should know better,” she tutted, “your collar is golden for a reason.”
Taylor didn’t respond as he tried to quash the million questions running through his head. If he needed to know something, he would be told.
She sighed once she’d cleaned the blood away, retreating to her desk to find a bandage.
“May I ask a question, Miss?” he suddenly built up the courage to ask.
She paused a moment. He’d never asked anything like that before.
“By all means,” she responded, making her way back to him and securing the bandage to his forehead.
Taylor took a deep breath, trying to think of how to word it.
“Why do they do it?” he asked as he kept his eyes down.
“I’d like to say he’s trying to make a point,” the woman began snidely, “but Carlos likes his liquor. He tends to get carried away. He does it for fun.”
Taylor closed his eyes again as if processing what she’d said.
“Would they have killed me?” he asked.
“If I hadn’t been there? Quite possibly.”
He opened his eyes again as she finished up and stood in front of him.
“He also doesn’t like Americans,” she added, “unfortunately you stand out here.”
Taylor had noticed every morning that he was the only white man in the breakfast hall. Part of the reason he was glad to be hidden behind her on the floor.
“Why did you choose me?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t overstepping his boundaries by asking too much.
He looked up, but didn’t hold eye contact.
“Do you remember…” the woman leant forward slightly making him nervous, “the very first thing you ever said in my presence?”
Taylor frowned as he thought back.
“I wanted to know where my brother was,” he looked up curiously.
“Right,” she nodded, “for me, that showed protectiveness. You were more worried for your brother than you were for your own situation. I hoped that one day you would show the same concern for my children.”
Taylor blushed, lowering his eyes again.
“I spent a long time looking for someone like you,” she admitted, “over a year, in fact. I didn’t expect to have to go all the way to Dallas. But considering your progress with them over the last few days, I’m very glad that I did.”
“Thank you Miss,” Taylor said softly, his mind turned back to worrying for Zac all of a sudden.
“I’d like you to spend the night here,” she insisted, stooping to loop his chain around the leg of the desk, “Carlos won’t dare bother you while you’re here. In the morning, we’ll return to normal.”
Taylor just nodded, waiting until she walked out before awkwardly settling down onto the rug.