Odyssey of a Prodigal Stepson Chapeter 10 (rewrite)

Recap: In part 9, Jamie found Koromaru lying dead on the Radcliffe lawn. Being the only one there when Catarina came home she jumped to the wrong conclusion and accused him of poisoning it. After an intense and hurtful confrontation over diner, Jamie as kicked out of the Radcliffe household and told never to return.

Upset and hurt he rode his bike to a local park where he encountered whom he thought to be an emphatic woman. She suggests he call his stepparent and try sort things out so he can come back home again. When he tells her that his cell phone had run out of charge she offers to let him recharge it on her partner’s charger. He follows her to her partner’s van and is shocked when she suddenly forces him in and the door shut. The van starts up and drives off. He struggles to get away but the woman holds a rag of coliform to his mouth and he passes out.

It is now the following morning.  

-Pancakes in Captivity-

Jamie woke to the twittering of birds and scanned his unfamiliar surrounds. He was in an average sized room. The walls covered by sickly yellow wallpaper with dark grid-like patterns. A faded azure carpet covered the floor. Hanging from this was a series of framed abstract art paintings and an ashen ticking wall clock.

There was a set of shelves toward the middle of the eastern wall, housing a handful of comics and paperback novels.  Below it was a 1970’s school desk, with a hole for an ink bottle. The accompanying chair also looked from the same era.

Adjacent this room was a small bathroom. It had a sink and toilet, but no bath or shower. The main door remained secured with double cylinder deadbolts. Both rooms had windows, fitted with metal bars like that of a jail cell.

The previous night’s bitterness, regarding his stepparents was now spent. He wondered what, if any impact his disappearance had on them. Were they sick with worry or still in denial; confident he was going to make his way back home sometime today? Maybe they were happy to finally rid themselves of such a problematic brat, and alleged dog-murderer. Maybe, but more than likely not; he knew how much they loved him.

His thoughts were disturbed by the sound of footsteps, coming down a set the stairs. They approached then came to a halt. Keys rattled in the lock and the door inched open. The woman that had forced him into the van entered and smiled at him. She wore a grey hoodie and dark track pants.  Her hair looked shorter and was now, what Melissa sometimes referred to as a strawberry blonde hue.

 “Hello darling, did you have a good sleep?” she said.

“I guess,” said Jamie. “I would have rather slept in my own bed, in my own room.”

“I’m afraid you’re just going to get used to the one you’re on, until we negotiate a ransom with your stepparents.”

“I already told you, they kicked me out of their house. They’re hardly going to give you money to return me?” 

“Give them a few days for reality and panic to set in and they’ll be willing to sell their soul to the devil to get you back.”

“A few days?”

“Think of it as a break, from the everyday expectations and stresses of family life. It will also give your stepparents time to reflect on how they’ve been treating you.”

 “I’m not really sure that I wanna like hurt them, like that.”

“Be that as it may, you’ll be spending the next few days here. As long as you behave yourself and do as you’re told, time will fly. You can call me Aunty Del, if you like. Now, would you like some breakfast. There’s some pancakes being made as we speak with your name on them; that’s if you like pancakes.”

“Of course; who doesn’t?”  

“No everyone eats eggs or dairy products. Stay in bed if you want, I’ll bring them to you in a few minutes.”

She smiled at him for a few seconds then turned and left the room, closing the door behind her. He felt uneasy at the sound of the snipping lock, and her receding footsteps. It was the same despair he imagined criminals experience, when their cell door was secured for the first time. He scanned the room for vulnerabilities, but escape seemed impossible.

He closed his eyes and thought about the family. Images of his beloved Koromaru also flashed in and out of this mind. He thought fondly of about his arrival at the Radcliffe household and how friendly everyone was to him. It did not take long before the honeymoon settling-in period ended, and expectations with consequences began.

 Jamie found it hard to adjust to a whole new set of rules, some of which contradicted the ones he was used to obeying. What had previously been deemed naughty was considered acceptable and acceptable now naughty. Inconsistency led to bitterness, motivating conflict, begetting punishment.  By the end of the first month, he was so acrimonious, he ran away from home. 

The police escorted him back later that night. Contrary to his expectations of severe punishment, he was embraced instead. His stepparents listened without judgement, as he poured his heart out regarding his struggles to fit in. They promised to be more patient with him, in the future.  He promised in turn to behave himself, and try his best to make them proud. Their pact lasted less than a fortnight. One afternoon whilst skylarking, he accidently broke a valuable porcelain figurine. Catarina suspended his Wi-Fi privileges. Jamie threw a hissy-fit.

His chain of thought was once again interrupted by the jingling of keys. The door opened and Aunty Del entered carrying a wooden tray, which she set on a small coffee table beside his bed. He stared down at a plate of steaming pancakes. To the left of the plate was a knife and fork, wrapped in a napkin; whilst on the right was a bottle of golden syrup and a saucer full of raspberry jam. There was also a tall glass of orange juice toward the upper centre of the tray.

 “I’m afraid we’re out of icing sugar and whipped cream at present,” she said. “You’ll just have to make do with jam and syrup.”

“No worries, Aunty Del.” he said with a smirk then added. “I really appreciate you going to the trouble of making this for me.  It’s really kind of you.”

“Try to remember; the Pancakes go in your mouth, not on your PJ’s or bed.”

“I’ll be careful,”

“I do hope so, for your sake.”

Aunty Del gave him a warning scowl before leaving the room. Jamie studied the pancakes and was gripped with mischievous inklings. He wondered what would happen if he lifted up the tray and upended its contents all over his pyjamas and the bedspread. Perhaps squirt her in the face with the golden syrup when she re-entered.  Her wrath was still very much an unknown quantity. Would she yell at him? Spank him? Beat him within an inch of his life? Maybe she would simply cry, leaving him to the mercy of his conscience. Whatever the consequence, it seemed criminally irresponsible to waste good pancakes on such an inane experiment. 

“I do not think a prudent one, will ever aim too high,” he mumbled. “A cockroach seldom whips a dog, and seldom should he try.”

It was a quote from one of his favourite books: The Annotated Archy and Mehitabel by Don Marquis. He was very much the cockroach, and Aunty Del the savage dog. If he was to get through the next few days unharmed, then complicity seemed his safest option. He unfolded the cutlery, stabbed one end of a pancake with a fork, and shovelled it into his mouth. 

-To be continued-