In His House
Free edition, Copyright 2011 by Marc Roman
Published by Smashwords.
Any semblance to real people, places, things, or events, is entirely coincidental.
I woke up early to a bright summer day, but didn't want to leave my bed. It's not
that I had had a rough sleep, but that I was content to just lie there, soaking in the
atmosphere of my surroundings. It was my final day at a bed and breakfast, in the heart of
the American countryside. Normally, I couldn't afford such a stay, for in my life I could
barely even make ends meet. I had little money to eat, let alone take a much needed
vacation. I had a cynical attitude towards life, but this place had left a pleasant effect
on me.
I had won this reprieve in a contest, one that I normally wouldn't have entered. I
was flipping through the newspaper, letting my eyes slide past most of it due to the
overstressing of bad news, when I noticed a tiny ad in the classified section. At first I
thought it was a joke, for why would anyone offer an all expenses paid vacation in such an
unnoticeable ad? I called the number listed, and was sent to an automated questionnaire
which felt more like a psychological examination. After completing it, I was prompted to
record my name and address. I did all of this without question, though I didn't know why.
I hung up the phone afterwards, and thought little more of it.
Three months later, I received a letter in the mail, telling me that I had won! I was
incredulous, for I wasn't expecting this, especially during a time of great distress. I
was unemployed and facing an eviction with no way out. I jumped on the opportunity, and
followed the instructions in the letter. Soon, everything had been arranged, including a
round trip flight, first class. In just a few days, I would be spending a week at an old-
fashioned bed and breakfast!
I arrived in a taxi late in the evening at the doorstep of an antique house with
garden, just a couple of miles outside a small country town. It was raining heavily, and
the raised voices I heard coming from inside further dampened my excitement about this
sojourn. I wasn't all that curious, but they were so loud I couldn't help but hear them.
" . . . and THAT'S why religion is important!" came an older man's voice.
"Oh, puh-leease!" came a dismissive younger man's voice.
"Would you two knock it off!" came a young woman's voice. "He can believe whatever he
wants!"
"Oh," said the older voice disdainfully, "you mean like you and that Qur'an of yours?"
"You leave my faith out of this!"
After hearing this, I was afraid to knock on the door, but did so anyway. No one
answered. I politely knocked again, but still received no notice. I started to worry that
I was in the wrong place when the door finally opened.
"Well, hello there!" said a wizened old man. He appeared quite cordial and disarming,
yet carried a strong presence. "You must be Thomas! We've been waiting for you!"
"We?" I asked, having been under the impression that I really wouldn't have to be
around anyone. I liked my solitude.
"Come, come!" said the man, ignoring my question. "You're just in time for a little
wine and cheese! Well, grape juice anyway."
Even a pessimist like myself couldn't resist a warm, dry place after being in the
rain, so I followed the old man inside.
Instantly, I felt like I had stepped back into the late 1800s. The interior of the
house was classically decorated and had a heartwarming feel. Returning to the present, I
found the old man helping to remove my rain gear. He offered clean, dry shoes, as well as
took my luggage to my room, just off of the opening hall.
"Guess who's here!" exclaimed the old man as I was escorted into a small dining room.
Three people looked up at us from a five person table.
"Hello!" they said in unison, pretending that they were enjoying themselves.
Oh boy, I thought. Some vacation this is going to be!
"Now that we're all here," said the old man, gesturing for me to take a seat, "I think
we should tell each other a little bit about ourselves. Any volunteers?"
There was a moment of silence, and then one person spoke up.
"I'm Maxwell Cunningham," said a middle aged man in a supercillious manner. "I run a
Christian television station a few cities away from here."
"I'm Lucinda Turval," said a young black woman wearing a Muslim headpiece. "I'm an
aspiring artist in New York." She seemed a bit withdrawn, almost guarded.
"I'm Sheng Tokugawa," said a fashionably dressed young asian man with a noticeable ego.
"I'm a consultant out in San Diego."
Everyone looked at me, for it was my turn.
"I'm," I stuttered, "I'm Thomas Dublin, from Florida, and am currently between jobs."
Everyone seemed to share some sort of consternation for each other, but I just tried
to let it pass.
"And I'm Thaddeus Godot," said the old man. "Owner of this bed and breakfast. It is
a pleasure having such a diverse group of people in my humble establishment! Now, how
about some refreshment?"
Thaddeus silently excused himself, and soon returned with the grape juice and cheese.
After laying things out, he offered prayer. Each of us did so as well, or simply faked it
in order not to disgrace our host. Everyone then savored a few bites and sips.
"Where did you get this cheese?" asked Sheng delightedly. "It's divine!"
"And the juice is as flavorful as wine would be!" conceded Lucinda.
Maxwell and I nodded in pleasant agreement. It really was delightful.
After all was consumed, Thaddeus cleared the table. Everyone was in better spirits,
but each was ready for some private time, and retired to their respective rooms.
"See you in the morning for breakfast!" said Thaddeus as he himself went to retire.
"Eight O'clock sharp!"
I went to my room, grateful for some time alone. I was too tired to unpack, even
though my whole life could fit into a weekender. I laid out only my night clothes, and
took a shower in my own private bathroom. It's interesting how one kind of downpour can be
preferable to another. After drying off with a particularly fluffy towel, I got into my
night gear and climbed into bed. I felt content, and thought that perhaps this would be a
nice vacation after all.
I awoke to the smell of a very promising breakfast. Excited, I quickly used the
facilities, changed into some fresh clothes, and headed towards the dining room. Thaddeus
was apparently still in the kitchen, even though the food was on the table. Sheng,
Lucinda, and Maxwell were already there, waiting.
"What took you so long?" asked Maxwell. "It's 8:15 already! God doesn't like
latecomers!"
"Sorry," I said apologetically, and sat down next to Sheng.
"I hope the food isn't cold," said Lucinda.
Sheng leaned towards me and whispered, "Thaddeus won't let us touch the food till
we've all said grace. He's a bit religious."
"Well," I responded, "we are in his house."
"You could use a little religion anyway, Sheng," Maxwell added.
"Oh, stop it!" said Sheng, loudly. "You and your overzealous . . ."
At that moment, Thaddeus entered the room and sat at the table. Sheng fell silent.
Maxwell just grinned. Thaddeus closed his eyes to lead grace. Sheng simply rolled his.
Soon, we were able to eat. Our breakfast had remained hot, and was nothing short of
heavenly.
"You are an excellent cook, Thaddeus!" exclaimed Maxwell.
"Best meal I've had in a long time!" I offered.
"Thank you," said Thaddeus. "I try my best."
Lucinda and Sheng simply nodded, for their mouths were full.
Of course, all good things must come to an end, and breakfast was soon over. Maxwell
left for the day in a Mercedes he had parked behind the house. Lucinda went to the
backyard with a mini easel and some paints. Sheng retired to his room, saying he was going
to catch up on some reading. I decided to return to my room as well, for after such a
pleasurable breakfast, I was in the mood for a little something private. I finally
unpacked all of my belongings, but what I was looking for was not there.
"Goddammit!" I exclaimed. "Of all the things to leave behind!"
Frustrated, I grabbed my wallet and left the house, planning to head into town.
I bumped into Thaddeus out in the front garden, watering some flowers.
"Heading into town?" asked Thaddeus. He wore a wide brimmed hat, for it was very hot
outside.
"Yeah," I said angrily. I really wasn't looking forward to hiking in the heat.
"I have a bicycle out back," offered Thaddeus. "It will make your trip easier."
"Nah," I said, "I couldn't take what isn't mine."
"Thou art not stealing," declared Thaddeus. "I'm simply letting you borrow it."
I decided to take him up on the offer, since the bike really would make my trip easier. It
had no lock to secure it, but I was told not to worry. Giving thanks, I prepared to leave,
but before I could, Thaddeus put his hand on my shoulder.
"Thomas," he said.
"Yes?"
"God does not damn. He only blesses. Remember that."
"I suppose so," I said. I must have cursed louder than I thought. He released his hand,
and I rode away.
The trip to town was actually quite pleasant. The smell of wildflowers filled the air
as grass swayed gently in a welcome breeze. Birds sang and butterflies flew. It was so
idyllic that my pessimism simply died away, and I temporarily forgot why I was going there
in the first place. Once I arrived, however, I sought a particular shop, the kind tucked
away so as not to be noticed by those not looking for it. I went inside, and purchased
some reading material. After that, I had lunch, and bought a few snacks to hold me until
the next day. I hurriedly rode back to the bed and breakfast.
The rest of my day was mostly uneventful, but enjoyable. I strolled through the
garden, admiring the scenery as well as Lucinda's painting. There was also a small study in the
house, filled with old books and a chess table. While gingerly perusing an antique
volume, I noticed Thaddeus enter the room.
"Hello," I said, not removing my eyes from the book in hand.
My greeting was met with silence. I turned my head, and found myself looking at a
powerfully raised eyebrow.
"You'll be forever lonely if you continue that way," said Thaddeus, strongly.
"Pardon?" I responded, not knowing what he was talking about.
Thaddeus simply turned and left. I felt a little disturbed, and returned to my room.
I found my door open, but could have sworn I had closed it when I had headed for the
garden. Volumes of a different sort sat in plain view on my bed. He must have seen them
while passing by! I was instantly embarrased.
I admit, I was addicted to adult movies and books. They were my only real vice, and
gave me pleasure in a life that had little in the way of fun and excitement. I had gone to
town to buy a couple of magazines, replacing what I had forgotten to bring. I felt so
awful that I grabbed them and threw them in the trash. I stayed in my room, afraid of
running into Thaddeus again.
Later that evening, there was a knock on my door. It was Sheng.
"Hello, Sheng," I said. "What is it?"
"Thaddeus has prepared us some pastries for an evening repast," said Sheng.
"This is starting to feel more like an inn than a B&B," I remarked.
"I wouldn't knock it, Thomas," said Sheng. "Even though Thaddeus is too religious for
my taste."
"How so?" I asked.
"I'm an atheist," said Sheng.
"Actually," I offered, "I'm an agnostic myself."
"A fence-sitter, eh?" said Sheng. "Well, at least you won't push religion on me like
Maxwell does."
"I'm just here to enjoy the vacation," I said, wanting to get over to the dining room
at this point.
"I concur," said Sheng. "Let's go."
I followed him to the dining room, where Lucinda and Maxwell were waiting. They were
staring at each other angrily.
What's the matter with these people? I asked myself. Can't they just have a good
time?
Shortly after Sheng and I sat down, Thaddeus entered with the pastries. They smelled
delicious. After prayer was offered, we ate them. They were so incredibly sweet, that Maxwell
and Lucinda could not keep their sour faces. Afterwards, as with previous meals, everyone was
ready to return to privacy, or so I thought.
"Thomas?" asked Sheng politely.
"Yes?" I responded.
"How about a nice game of chess?"
"I suppose I have the time," I said. I was never particularly good at the game, but
it was still enjoyable. I just hoped I could put on a good show, and not lose in the first
ten minutes.
We proceeded to the study, where the chess table stood. Sheng removed the pieces
from a drawer in the table and set up the board. He seemed to be a bit distracted as we
played, and soon spoke up.
"I'm so sick of Maxwell," said Sheng.
"Hmm?" I said.
"He's just so pushy!" Sheng exclaimed. "Next thing you know, he's going to damn me to
Hell for being homosexual!"
"He is excessive," I offered in response, ignoring Sheng's admission. To each
their own, that's my motto.
"And he's treating Lucinda like absolute garbage!" continued Sheng. "You should've
heard how he belittled her while you were out!"
I kept quiet and offered only my ear, for this seemed more like a monologue than a
conversation.
"You know," said Sheng at one point, "you're acting just like God!"
"I thought you didn't believe in him," I responded.
"Neither do you!" retorted Sheng.
"I don't think that's the point!" I said with a slightly raised voice. Sheng was
starting to get on my nerves. Why did life keep promoting negativity in me like this?
"If God is so real," proposed Sheng exasperatingly, "then why does he never speak to
us in plain English?!"
"I've often asked that myself," I said genuinely.
"Enough of this!" said Sheng in frustration. "I thought you'd understand!"
"Sorry for disappointing you," I said sarcastically.
"I'm sorry, too," said Sheng with sudden calm. "I guess I'm just tired, tired of too many
things. Excuse me."
Sheng got up and left. This was the first chess game that I ever won by default.
After cleaning away the game, I retired to my room. I landed on my back in the bed,
putting my hands behind my head. I stared at the ceiling, dimly visible in the moonlight.
This is more like a journey than a vacation!thought to myself. Damn Maxwell! He
seemed to be the main instigator here.
Perhaps I should confront him. Maybe tomorrow . . .
I awoke the next morning from a rather fitful sleep. I didn't feel as rested as I
should have. Story of my life, I thought. Not even a vacation seemed to help me get away from my
problems. I failed to notice any hint of mealtime aromas, and quickly looked at a travel
clock I had brought from home.
"10 O'Clock?!" I said aloud. I had missed breakfast!!!! I got dressed in a flash, and
planned to dash for the dining room, but before I could get there, a single sentence found
my ear from afar, and I stopped.
"If you don't repsect women," came Lucinda's infuriated voice, "then why do you marry
them?!"
She came quickly down the hall, nearly running right into me, and headed out the front
door. Maxwell casually came into view, and I was stuck with a choice. Do I confront
Maxwell now, as I had casually planned, or go after Lucinda? I didn't know what to do! I
looked at Maxwell, then at the open door. I repeated this once or twice, and on the final
time, I saw Thaddeus in the doorway. The light coming from outside gave him an aura that
was undeniable, and one look into his eyes told me what I needed to do.
"We'll discuss this later!" I told Maxwell, and headed outside.
I couldn't find Lucinda anywhere in the vicinity of the house. I grabbed the bicycle
I had borrowed before, thinking that she may have headed for town. It turned out that
I was right, for I could see her in the distance, also riding on a bicycle. She was
going flat out, and I couldn't quite catch up with her. She maintained a speed that any
casual rider could not, even if fueled by anger.
"Lucinda!" I cried out when I could spare the breath. "Slow down!"
She didn't hear me.
"LUCINDA!!!" I yelled, losing some of my speed.
"I don't respond to shouting men!" she exclaimed, and started to pedal even faster.
"Lucinda!" I continued. "It's Thomas! I overheard you and Maxwell! I just want to
talk!"
Somehow, this worked, and she started to slow down. Within a minute, I had caught up
with her. We pulled over to the side of the road. Lucinda sat on her bike, silent.
"Are you alright?" I asked, not knowing how else to start the conversation. I never
was good at talking with women.
"I," steamed Lucinda, "I'm fine."
"If you say so," I responded, though it was obvious she wasn't. "Look, I'm sorry
about Maxwell. He's been a pain to all of us."
"I don't want to talk about that!" she snapped.
"OK, OK!" I said disarmingly. All of a sudden, it hit me what I needed to say.
"How about we just get away from it all?" I offered. "That's what a vacation's for,
right?"
"I suppose so," said Lucinda.
"I had lunch yesterday at a nice little cafe in town," I said with surprising
confidence. "Care to go?"
"Ok, sure," Lucinda replied.
We resumed our riding, and eventually reached the cafe. After parking our bikes,
Lucinda insisted that we sit at an outside table. She ordered something light, while I
ordered something heavy. I had totally missed out on our host's scrumptious and free
breakfast. While we waited for our food, I figured I might as well speak up first, but Lucinda
beat me to it.
"Why are men such idioits?!" she complained.
"Not all of us," I said, not meaning to imply myself, especially after the fiasco with
the dirty books.
"They claim they love women," continued Lucinda in a fashion not unlike Sheng, "yet
they use and abuse them at every opportunity!"
"I know," I said, losing the confidence that had brought us to this point.
"Even the lands that gave birth to my faith treat women like trash!" she exclaimed.
"I sometimes wonder if God is even there at all!"
"Now don't get like Sheng!" I said, diffusingly. "You must keep up your spirits!"
"That's easy for you to say!" countered Lucinda, angrily. "Mister 'inbetween jobs'!"
"I didn't ask you to come here so I could be irrationally insulted!" I said with just
as much upset. "Look, if you don't want to be consoled, then I'll just head back. I'd
like a word or two with Maxwell anyway. He's ruining my vacation!"
"Then go," replied Lucinda with the calm of resignation. "I've been fine without men
before. I can be that way again."
"I don't doubt your strength, Lucinda," I said. "Goodbye."
I got up from the table, but felt compelled to pay for the meals that had even yet to
arrive. Lucinda noticed this, but said nothing. I mounted my bicycle, and headed back to
the bed and breakfast.
I was in a terrible mood. I had had nothing to eat, and had paid for two lunches I
never saw. After parking the bicycle, I thrust open the front door, entered, and then
slammed it behind me. Before I could head to my room, however, the smell of heavenly food
met my senses. I instinctively headed for the dining room. Maxwell was there, as if he
had been waiting for me. Two plates were in place, and I assumed that one was for me. I
approached, but only because I was starving. As much as I wanted to set Maxwell straight,
I was too tired from emotional exhaustion to do so.
Thaddeus was absent, but each of us offered prayer nonetheless. I quickly started to
eat afterwards. Absolutely scrumptious food, as expected. Maxwell, however, left his
untouched.
"I know you don't believe in what you just did," said Maxwell, referring to the
prayer, "but I want to thank you for respecting that practice."
I paused in my eating, stunned by his words.
"I however," said Maxwell, "have not been repsecting yours, nor those of the other two
for that matter. I am truly sorry."
"And what about Lucinda?" I asked, feeling renewed in my ability to set him straight.
"Alas," said Maxwell, "I cannot apologize to her. I'm too much of a coward to do
that."
"Would you like me to do so, then?" I offered unexpectedly. I still don't know why.
"That would be most welcome, yes," said Maxwell gratefully.
"Then it shall be done," I said, sealing the deal. Maxwell stood up.
"This is the last night that I'll be here," he said. "I'm going to stay away from
everyone, and leave in the morning before breakfast. Please do not tell the others we've
had this conversation."
"I won't," I promised. Maxwell left for his room.
I finished my food, and wondered if it would be alright to eat the other serving.
"Go ahead," said an old man's voice. "You've earned it."
It was Thaddeus. He had apparently entered the room unnoticed.
"What happened to Maxwell?" I asked while gratefully starting my next plate.
"We had a little talk," said Thaddeus.
"You must be one masterful speaker," I complimented.
"Not really," the old man said. "I just keep things simple. People need to learn to do
the same."
"I suppose so," I responded.
"I'll take my leave now," said Thaddeus. "And don't worry about the dishes. I'll
take care of them later." With this, he left.
I finished my food, but decided to do the cleanup for him. Even though I had missed
breakfast, I got to eat his perfect cooking after all. While washing the few dishes there
were, I was surprised to find Lucinda standing next to me.
"I'm sorry about earlier, Thomas," said Lucinda.
"Don't worry about it," I said genuinely.
"See you tomorrow, I guess," she said, and took her leave.
"This had better turn into a real vacation, really soon!" I said aloud but to myself.
I made sure I was awake for breakfast the next morning, for I didn't want to delay what my
stomach deserved. I went to the dining room. Lucinda and Sheng were there, but, true to his
word, Maxwell was not.
"Where's Maxwell?" asked Sheng genuinely, although I could sense a little gladness about
the situation.
"Did you talk with him?" asked Lucinda.
"Just a little," I said dismissively as I sat down.
Thaddeus soon entered, and took his place at the table. Sheng interrupted before prayer
could begin.
"Where's Maxwell?" he asked.
"Yesterday was his last day here," said Thaddeus.
"Wasn't he staying a week like the rest of us?" inquired Lucinda.
"He had an appointment to keep," I lied, "and had to cut his stay short."
Thaddeus gave me a quick glance, both admonishing and acknowledging my performance.
"I see," said Sheng, sounding somewhat disappointed.
Prayers were then offered, and each of us ate in silence. The food was delightful, but it
failed to uplift us this time. After eating, I asked Thaddeus if I could borrow his bicycle
again. He granted permission, and I took off for town. I just had to get away from these
people!
I took my time riding into town, enjoying the sights and smells of the American
countryside. Once there, I visited as many tourist spots as the town could offer. I was
determined to make this a vacation to remember, in the good sense. I avoided the adult store,
for Thaddeus's gaze had left an impression on me, and the more I thought about it, the more I
knew that he was right. It looked like my long held addiction was finally over.
I didn't return until well past nightfall. I smelled something coming from the kitchen.
Although I wasn't hungry, I went to the dining room anyway. Sheng and Lucinda were there,
arguing over something.
Will this ever cease? thought to myself.
"Ah, Thomas!" greeted Sheng as I took my seat. "Lucinda and I were just discussing the
importance of free will."
"I'm not entirely convinced of it," admitted Lucinda. "I like the idea, but sometimes I
feel as if we are being led to a predetermined fate."
"I believe," I offered, seing no way out of this conversation, "in what I call 'malleable
destiny'. Each of us has an assigned fate, but how we reach it, if we even choose to reach it,
is up to us."
"Sounds just like something a fence-sitter would say!" said Sheng sarcastically. "Always
coming up with a middle ground!"
"You're getting just as bad as Maxwell, Sheng," I said.
"But you lack commitment!" Sheng fired back. "At least he had some passion!"
"I'm not here for passion," I said. "I am here to have fun and relax!"
"Such passivity!" exclaimed Sheng. "No wonder you're 'inbetween jobs'! I bet you never
even completed High School!"
"ENOUGH!!!!!" I shouted, slamming my fists on the table, and raising myself to full
height. "I have had ENOUGH of the discord all of you have brought me! I came here all excited
about a reprieve from a purgatory existence, and what I end up with is HELL! GOOD NIGHT!"
I left the room in a huff, entered my own, and slammed the door defiantly.
What is IT with these people? I thought angrily. I'm AMAZED by how Thaddeus tolerates this
crap! I'd have driven these people FAR away from MY house the first day!
I was so angry that it took forever to fall asleep.
Another night, another day. The only thing I looked forward to was the food. I went to
the dining room, both with expectancy and apprehension. Only Lucinda was there.
"Where's Sheng?" I asked, surprised.
"He left for home," said Lucinda. "You must have really upset him."
"Please don't start anything," I asked politely. "You're the only one of us I actually
liked."
"Because I'm a woman?" asked Lucinda accusingly.
"No," I said, sitting down, "because you seemed stronger than them."
This was met with silence, but not the bad kind.
"Anyway," I continued, "about the other day. How were you able to maintain yourself so
well on that bicycle?"
"I used to be a bicycle courier," answered Lucinda. "That was before I found my true
calling."
"You mean painting?" I asked.
"Yes," said Lucinda. "I found contentment in expressing my thoughts and feelings on
canvas."
"Yet you are not content," I said observingly.
"You're one to talk," said Lucinda.
Just then, Thaddeus came into the room. He laid out breakfast, which was Belgian waffles
with strawberry sauce and full dairy whipped topping. We offered prayers and dug in. It was
absolutely scrumptious!
"There's an art festival in town today," said Thaddeus at one point. "I think the two of
you should go. It might prove interesting."
"Sure," I said, looking at Lucinda.
"Why not?" she responded.
After breakfast was cleared away, Lucinda and I got ready, and started to ride into town.
As we rode, with Lucinda going noticeably faster than me, I wondered about the miniature
odyssey of the past few days. The thing with travel is, it gives you time to think. Even if
it's a repeated route, a certain degree of metaphysical inquiry will surely find you. By the
time we reached town, I was feeling rather philosophical, but then such is not a bad thing when
about to view art.
The festival was small, taking place in the town square, but so densely packed that it
formed its own veritable community of soulful inquisition. Lucinda was happily lost in her
love, apparently forgetting all about me as she wandered off. Well, it's not like she and I
were an item anyway.
I randomly walked around the square, never having had much of an appreciation for art.
However, one particular painting caught my eye. It seemed somewhat humorous, but of course
someone would be offended by it. It was a picnic scene, featuring Jesus, Buddha, and Mohammed
seated around a nice afternoon's lunch in the shade of some merry green trees. The sun was
shining as bright in the painting as it was over my head.
"Interesting painting," I said to myself. "I wonder what it's called?"
"Harmony," said a voice beside me.
I was briefly startled, but relaxed when I saw that it was Lucinda.
"It's one of my old ones," she said. "I sold it to someone four years ago."
"What's it doing here?" I found myself asking.
"Maybe the current owner doesn't believe in it?" Lucinda responded. "Then again, neither
do I, anymore."
"That's too bad," I said. "It's really a nice idea."
"But impossible," said Lucinda with resignation.
"Too bad our little group couldn't have been more like this," I said, ignoring her
statement, but realizing I had just supported it. I never was too good at debate.
"I'm hungry," said Lucinda. "Let's go get something to eat."
There was food at the festival, and we each enjoyed a light lunch, ending it with a cone of
vanilla ice cream while seated by a fountain. Children passed by with toy guns, blissfully
unaware of what their play could symbolize if taken too seriously.
"Harmony, huh?" I asked myself. Lucinda simply stayed silent, but didn't seem as guarded
anymore.
We made the most of the rest of the day at the festival, returning to Thaddeus in time for
dinner. Things were fairly uneventful that evening, and I went to bed.
I awoke the next day to an alluring smell of chocolate tea. After using the bathroom and
doing some basic grooming, I started for the dining room, but for some reason found myself in
the kitchen. Thaddeus was there, pouring the tea into two plain beige mugs. A small folding
table and two chairs had been arranged, the sort you might see in a struggling college student's
apartment.
"Where's Lucinda?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"She left before dawn," said Thaddeus, turning to face me. "Wanted to catch an early
flight."
"Did I scare her away?" I asked, taking a seat at the table.
"Not at all," said Thaddeus as he sat down. "She simply felt ready to go home."
"Oh," I said as I gracefully accepted a mug from him. The aroma was intoxicating, but I
dared not taste it, for I felt as if Thaddeus was seeing into my soul.
"Do you believe in God, Thomas?" asked Thaddeus as he took a sip of his own tea. He said
it so simply, so honestly, that I found I could not lie.
"I do not," I said, "but yet I doubt my own conviction."
"I see why you clashed with the others," said Thaddeus, taking another sip.
"I mean," I said, not hearing him, "look at all the wrong-doing that's been done in God's
name!"
"That doesn't mean he sanctioned it," said Thaddeus, setting down his cup.
"But he never tells us anything directly!" I exclaimed. "That's also why I have trouble
believing in him."
"He does," countered Thaddeus, "but most don't listen. Oh, they may claim to, but they're
deluding themselves."
"Is this how you talked to Maxwell?" I inquired.
"Perhaps," said Thaddeus. "Perhaps not."
"You know, Thaddeus," I said attackingly, "you're almost as enigmatic as God himself!"
"I've been told that," said Thaddeus, staring at wisps of steam coming from his mug.
"And what about Sheng?" I asked. "Did you have this sort of conversation with him as
well?"
"Yes," said Thaddeus a little more directly, "but he wasn't ready to listen."
"I'm not surprised," I said, blowing on my mug.
"The thing about a fence-sitter," said Thaddeus abruptly, "is that they can see both sides
of things."
"But the world is not so polarized," I countered, finally partaking of the chocolate tea.
"True," said Thaddeus as I fluttered back down from liquid Heaven, "but the example still
proves my point."
"What point?" I asked, crash-landing back into reality.
"That your eyes, Thomas, are not so closed, if one can just get you to look."
"Is this what this trip is all about?" I asked a bit angrily. "A deceptively pleasant way
to seek converts?"
"Not at all!" said Thaddeus. "This is just my personal conviction that I share with all of
my guests."
"Well, it's not mine!" I exclaimed, rising from my seat. "Look Thaddeus, you've been a
superior host, but I came here to get away from it all, not be thrown back into it!"
"You never left it," said Thaddeus matter of factly, drinking more tea.
"Oh, but I have!" I said emphatically, "at least temporarily, anyway."
"Then please enjoy your final day," said Thaddeus, "for tomorrow you are due to leave."
If anyone else had uttered that sentence, I would have taken it to be mean and sarcastic.
Coming from Thaddeus, though, it simply wasn't.
There was no breakfast that day, but I did finish the chocolate tea. I spent my time
staring out at the woods behind the house, ignoring the passage of time. It was the greatest
escape I had had all week.
There was indeed a dinner, and I felt like such a hypocrite as I offered grace, but was
relieved to find the meal just as enjoyable as the others had been.
Apparently Thaddeus held no grudges.
I thanked him while doing my best to hide embarrasment, then went to my room, calling it an early night.
I woke up early to a bright summer day, but didn't want to leave my bed. It's not that I
had had a rough sleep, but that I was content to just lie there, soaking in the atmosphere of my
surroundings. It was my final day, if it could be considerd such, for my plane was scheduled to
leave in just a few hours. I took care of morning preparations, and then slowly went to
the dining room. Breakfast was set, but Thaddeus was not there! On my plate was a note, which
I did not hesitate to read:
"Dear Thomas,
I know it's been an interesting week, but I hope you have enjoyed your stay at my
establishment as much as I have enjoyed having you here. Alas, I am rather tired from
the week's activities, and must consider this a day of rest. Please, help yourself to breakfast.
Don't worry about cleaning up or any other niceties. Just relax until your taxi comes.
Farewell, and God Bless!
Thaddeus"
Setting the note aside, I ate breakfast, which was nothing more than scrambled eggs and
toast, but it tasted like the other meals had, heavenly and with no equal. I actually offered prayer for some reason.
All too soon, the taxi came. I felt as if I had been abandoned as I left the house and
entered the cab. The ride to the airport was shorter than it should have been, shorter than I
remember it taking to reach the house in the beginning. The wait for my flight was uneventful
in spite of the 'bussling around me. I felt melancholy as reality seemed to return in full
force, telling me my vacation was over. It hadn't been the best vacation, but it had its
good moments, especially the meals. I really didn't miss any of the people, though, except
maybe Thaddeus.
Heaven knows why, I thought to myself as I boarded my plane and took my seat. After a
while in the air, food was provided, but it was an insult to my taste buds after what I had
eaten for much of the week. Losing my appetite, I slipped on some headphones that were
provided, and randomly tuned into some in-flight music. Just my luck, it was a religious
selection.
"Why does God never speak to me directly and in plain English?!" I asked myself in
aggravation, throwing off the headphones.
It was then, on the flight home, that my eyes were no longer so closed.