Naomi Grim: Complete Novel (Parts 1-4) (The Silver Scythe Chronicles) (5 page)

My
heart sank into my stomach as we pulled up to the gate of Dunningham's massive
mansion.  The tall wrought iron gates opened on their own as the carriage
pulled onto the driveway.

     I'd
seen pictures of Dunningham's estate, but I'd never seen it in person, since
I'd never been allowed in the Upper Estates.

     The
ride through the city had shown me streets of identical-looking mansions sitting
on acres of lands. The homes looked like something out of a story book. Father
and Bram would have definitely loved it here.

     Once
again, I sat between Dunningham and Doyle. Another carriage would bring Colden
to the mansion as he waited for the lifestones he was supposed to take back to
the Outskirts. I shot Doyle dirty looks he tried to ignore. Dunningham's
mansion was astonishing. I'd never seen anything like it. I thought there was
enough room for everyone in Farrington to live inside.

     The
large Victorian house looked like a castle with its rooks and steeples. There
had to be at least fifty windows on the front of the house alone. I felt sorry
for whoever had to keep the house clean, then I remembered that would soon be
me.

      A
large courtyard surrounded the building. Perfectly pruned shrubs shaped like
skulls sat in each corner. The Grim emblem we each had branded on our shoulders,
was etched into the lawn in the middle of the yard. Two men were on their knees,
pulling weeds.

     The
driver took us around the circular driveway, where we stopped at the mansion's
entrance. Immediately a man in a three-piece suit opened the door on
Dunningham's side. I didn't even see where he had come from. I slid out after
him and looked at the ground, trying my best not to seem impressed by his
spectacular home.

     "Graham,
this is Naomi. She'll be joining the cleaning staff. Please fetch Hesper,"
he told the man.

     The
man nodded and headed up the stairs to the steel double doors.

     Another
man opened the door for us and ushered us inside. Doyle, Dunningham, and I
stepped in the humongous foyer, which was everything I had imagined and then
some. We stood on a beautiful marble floor filled with fancy designs and silver
swirls. The windows were covered with intricate black drapery. Plush black
leather furniture and expensive silver accessories filled the living room, or
whatever room we were in. I took note of a beautiful candelabra on the
fireplace's mantle.

     A
plump woman came down one side of the double staircases, proceeding delicately
onto each carpeted step. "Welcome back, Mr. Dunningham, sir. You called
for me?"

     "Yes,
Hesper. This is Naomi."  I hated how he pronounced by name. He always
called me Ni-o-me. It hadn't really bothered me until then. "Naomi, this
is Hesper. She's in charge of the cleaning staff. You'll do what she tells
you."

     I
met the woman's dark eyes and looked down. She was an older lady with gray hair
pulled back into a bun. I wondered what her deal was. Was she in her position
because she was being punished? Yes, I guessed. Her gray hair and hints of
aging weren't a good sign. I could sense her looking me up and down. Little did
she know, I wouldn't be doing anything. I had no intention of lifting a finger
to serve Dunningham.

     "Hesper,"
Dunningham continued. "Please be sure to give her a proper run-down of the
rules and procedures. This one here likes to do as she pleases."

     Hesper
gave me a look, and I rolled my eyes.

     "Naomi—"
Dunningham began.

     "What?"
I snapped.

     Both
Doyle and Hesper gasped.

     "I
mean, yes, Mr. Dunningham, sir." But there was still an edge of attitude
in my voice.

     Dunningham
paused for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not he would let that
slide. "Hesper will show you to your quarters and then she'll show you
where you will be assigned to work. You may speak to no one except for
Hesper."

     "Yes,
sir," I muttered.

     "This
way," Hesper said.

     I
followed her down the long corridor filled with closed doors and tall windows
that ran from the ceiling to the ground. Somewhere I heard a dog barking,
either Black or Blue, Dunningham's pit bull and bloodhound.

     Finally
we reached the end of the hallway. Hesper opened a door, and I followed her
down the flight of stairs. The dark, dank room reeked of mildew. When we got to
the bottom, I noticed two rows of twin-sized beds covered with gray sheets. I
counted about twenty.

     "These
are the maid's quarters. You can have the bed there against the wall."

     "That's
your uniform," Hesper said, pointing to a garment folded on the end of the
bed.

     I
unfolded the ugly black dress and a white smock. I'd much rather stay in my
jeans and hoodie. I tossed the uniform back on the bed.

     "Go
ahead and change," Hesper said, "and I'll show you where you'll be
stationed."

     "Stationed?"

     "Yes.
We can use more help in the kitchen."

     That's
about the last place I wanted to be. "I can't cook."

     "You'll
learn." Hesper began up the stairs. "Change.  I'll be back down in a
minute."

     I
sat on the bed, listening to the door close at the top of the stairs. There was
no reason for her to come back. I wasn't changing. I wasn't doing anything. I
refused to spend the rest of my years—I wasn't even sure how many I had left
anymore—being Dunningham's slave. I ran my hands over the coarse sheets that
covered the bed. At least it would be better than sleeping on the floor of a
shack.

     Hesper
came back down the stairs and sucked her teeth. "Why aren't you in your
uniform?"

     "I'm
not wearing it."

     "You
will wear it. It's not optional."

     I
stared at the ground and said nothing.

     Hesper
sighed. "Well, you can go explain to Mr. Dunningham why you won't do as
you're told."

     I
stood and folded my arms across my chest. "Fine, I'll do that."

     Hesper
looked at me as if I'd just said the dumbest thing she'd ever heard. "He's
in his study."

     I
followed her to Dunningham's study, an elaborate room off to the side of the
staircase. Hesper knocked on the door and looked at me sharply.

     "Yes?"
Doyle called.

     "We
have a problem with the new girl, sir," Hesper answered through the door.

     "Come
in," Dunningham called, sounding tired.

     Hesper
opened the door, and I entered. She closed the door behind me and went about
her business probably glad to be rid of me for the moment.

     Dunningham's
study was huge. Books lined shelves from floor to ceiling. He sat behind a
large marble desk while Doyle and Colden sat in two chairs in front of him.

     "What
is your problem?" Dunningham asked, taking a drink from a glass filled
with dark liquid.

     I
looked him dead in the eyes. "I'm not wearing that uniform, and I'm not
working in your kitchen," I said firmly.

     He
put his glass down and made a face, clearly frustrated with me. He closed his
eyes. "I can't win with you, can I? You and your mother should have been
killed when you were born, but I let you both live. Then despite your mixed
blood, I give you and your family an amazing opportunity and you blew it. Then
I overturned your death sentence, at Mr. Doyle's persistence, and gave you a
chance at life, and you won't put on your uniform. You're not leaving me very
many options."

     I
looked at Colden, who looked back and forth between Dunningham and I. What was Dunningham
up to? He was probably trying to negotiate with Colden over the lifestones.

     "I
don't want to work here," I whispered.

     Dunningham
sat back in his seat, stroking his chin. "So you peel a few vegetables and
wash some dishes. What's the big deal?"

     "I
don't want to spend the rest of my life working in your kitchen, that's the big
deal. I'd rather be dead!"

      Dunningham
glance at Doyle, who shook his head. I wanted to ask him why he was keeping me
alive. I knew what I was doing. Doyle was Dunningham's right-hand man and
biggest influence. He wouldn't let Dunningham kill me.

     "I
see," Dunningham said. "What if I let you have a visit from your
friends from time to time? Would that be better?"

     "You
would let my friends visit here?" I was confused. "Why?"

     "Whatever
I can do to make you happy, dear."

     "Let
me go home."

     "Besides
that," Dunningham answered. "Now go put your uniform on and find
Hesper. Either that or someone else has to pay your debt. You can work here, or
your mother can."

     "No!
I'll do it." I wouldn’t let my mother pay the price for me, even though I
knew she would do it in a heartbeat. "Can someone show me where the
kitchen is?" Doyle would have to, since Colden didn't know the house and
Dunningham never did anything.

     As
I expected, Doyle rose from his seat. "This way," he said, sounding
annoyed.

     I
followed him out. "What are you doing?" I whispered to him once we
were out of the room.

     "What
are
you
doing?" he asked back. "I'm trying to save your life
here."

     We
stopped in the foyer. "I know that," I said, "the question is
why."

     Doyle
sighed and looked around. "Dunstan needs you for something. Don't worry,
you won't be here for long. I just need you to play along and do your job. Stop
causing trouble. You're worse than your brother." He grabbed my arm and
pulled me toward the kitchen.

     "How
did you get Dunningham to change his mind? What did you tell him?"

     "I
showed him a way to get something he wants."

     "What
does he want?"

     "Don't
worry about it," he said, pushing the swinging doors open.  "Ladies,
here's some more help. Keep an eye on this one." Then he shoved me inside.

After
I steadied myself, I looked around the kitchen where two women worked quickly.
One was busy flattening a ball of dough with a rolling pin and the other
sprinkled spices on some meat.

     I
cleared my throat. They ignored me, so I just stood there.

     "So,
Mr. Doyle told me you've come to your senses," Hesper said, entering the
kitchen and shoving my uniform against my chest. "Follow me." She led
me to the largest refrigerator I'd ever seen where she removed a basket of
vegetables. "Today you'll chop the veggies for the salad and do anything
else Selima tells you to do. That's the only time you may speak to each other.
Selima's in charge of the kitchen. Do as she says. You may go into the storage
room and change," she said, pointing to a door off to the side, then left
me standing there with the basket of vegetables.

     I
looked around Dunningham's state-of-the-art kitchen. The entire first floor of
our house in Farrington could have fit in it. I'd heard rumors that this house
had two kitchens. What would anyone need two kitchens for?

     I
left the basket of vegetables on the counter and went to the storage room to
change. All sorts of food and supplies filled the room from top to bottom, like
a grocery store. I changed quickly from my jeans and hoodie to my hideous uniform.
I didn't know what to do with my clothes, so I folded them neatly and left them
on the floor.

     I
went back to the basket I’d left on the kitchen island and grabbed a carrot. As
I turned around to look for a knife, one almost cut my face.

     "Hey!"
I screamed in surprise.

     "Here,"
Selima said, handing me the knife. She placed a large bowl beside me and went
back to her business.

     I
spent what felt like forever chopping carrots, heads of lettuce, onions,
tomatoes, and cucumbers. Every now and then, I would steal glances at the two
women. They were young. I wondered how they felt about doing this day in and
day out for an eternity. They couldn't even hold conversations with each other
to help pass the time. I'd always felt sorry for Dunningham's servants, now I
was one of them.

     I
thought my salad looked horrible. The vegetables looked butchered and
unappetizing. Selima made a face at it, but said nothing. Leave it to me to
mess up a salad.

     Close
to dinner time, Selima showed me how to set the table. She told me they had to
set twelve places every night, but I wasn't sure why. Dunningham had no family.
He'd been married a few times, but his wives mysteriously disappeared. Of
course, there was no one to question this. He'd never had any children.
Probably because he didn’t want to pass down his position of power to anyone
else. I guess sometimes his assistants joined him for meals, I knew Doyle often
did.

     I
realized after a minute that Selima had been explaining to me what to do during
the dinner service. Which side of the chair to stand on when we served. How to
refill the glasses. We had to stand around and watch them eat until Dunningham
dismissed us, then we would eat, clean the dishes and the dining room and then
go to bed. What a life.

* * *

     When
dinner time came around, Selima placed the large salad bowl and a pair of tongs
on a cart. "Remember which way I told you to serve from." I didn't
remember. I just knew the salad plate was the smaller one.

     I
pushed the cart out to the dining area. Dunningham sat at the head of the
table. Doyle and Colden sat on either side of him. The thought of having to
serve Colden made me sick to my stomach. We made eye contact. He looked kind of
pissed, but then he always looked that way.

     I
went to Dunningham first, like Selima had told me to do earlier. Using the
tongs, I placed a clump of salad on his plate, but I wasn't very neat. A few
pieces of lettuce and a tomato landed on the tablecloth. Dunningham didn't say
anything, he simply placed the vegetables back on his plate. Selima had also
told me that he preferred Italian dressing. I held the ceramic container in my
hands.

     "Dressing,
sir?"

     Dunningham
nodded. "Just a splash."

     I
poured a drizzle onto his salad. I did the same with Doyle. I felt awkward when
I got to Colden. I put salad on his plate. "Dressing?" I asked, but I
refused to call him sir.

     "Yes,"
he answered. "But I like a lot. I'll tell you when to stop."

     I
poured the dressing on. It was way too much, enough to ruin the salad, but I
wouldn't stop until Colden told me to. He held his hand up, which I resented.

     I
wheeled the cart back into the kitchen, leaving the men to enjoy their salad.
The other girl who worked in the kitchen, Twila, took a basket of bread into
the dining room. Selima told me to help her fix the plates. Dinner was pot
roast and baby potatoes.

     My
mouth watered as I fixed the plates. As Salima cut the roast, I could tell how
tender it was by how easily the meat fell into slices. If she wasn't looking, I
would have stolen a pinch of meat. I didn't remember the last time I'd eaten,
and I couldn't wait to eat again. Selima placed silver covers over the plates
and then carried them into the dining room. She carried two while I carried
one. I made sure I put mine down in front of Doyle so she would have to serve
Colden. As they dug into their meal, Selima, Twila, and I stood off to the side
in case they needed anything.

     My
stomach growled, and I hoped no one else had heard it. Watching them eat while
I starved made me angry.

     Colden
cut into his pot roast. Although I couldn't stand him, I was happy that he got
to have a real hearty meal. I wondered if he had ever eaten meat before.

     "So
about the lifestones . . ." Colden’s voice trailed off.

     "Yes.
We'll take you to the Mill in the morning. Anything to help my people. I'll
have Hesper set you up in the guest room," Dunningham answered.

     Something
was very wrong with the way he said that. I didn't think he was planning on
turning over any lifestones period.

     "Don't
you think," Dunningham continued, "that it's a little unfair for you
all to charge us for medical care since you’re the ones who caused my people
injuries? After all, we wouldn’t need any of this, if it weren't for my brother
and your people."

     I
was afraid for Colden, the way Dunningham was looking at him.

     Colden
put his hands up. "Sir, I'm just the messenger."

     Dunningham
took a drink from his glass. "I shouldn't expect anything more from
Dunstan. My brother has never been a man of honor."  He put his glass down
and looked at me. "Naomi, what do you think?"

     I
cleared my throat. "About what?"

     "What
we just said."

     All
eyes were on me. Selima gave me a warning glance. "I think since the
Foragers caused this problem, they should be sending their doctors here to help
our Grims and not be expecting anything in return."

     Colden's
jaw clenched at my use of the word Foragers, but I was only telling Dunningham
what he wanted to hear. I didn't want him to change his mind about my friends
being allowed to come over.

     Dunningham
nodded. "I agree. I shall summon your friends tomorrow for a visit. Would
you like that?"

     "Yes.
Very much. Thank you, sir." I could sense Selima and Twila shooting
eye-daggers at me, probably wondering why I was being allowed visitors and they
weren't.

     "Ladies,
you are dismissed," Dunningham said.

     Finally,
we were allowed to eat a tiny portion of the leftovers, but I was grateful for
whatever little there was.

     That
night, I took a nice long shower. Hesper banged on the door, telling me I had
gone over my time but I ignored her. The warm water felt so nice, and it seemed
like so long since I'd had a real shower. The last one was in Gattica and that
one had been ice-cold.

     When
I got out, all the other maids were already in bed. Only Hesper sat up in hers.
Not one word was uttered.  I went to my bed to pull back the sheets.

     Hesper
walked over to me briskly and slapped me across my face. "I don't know who
you think you are, but you are not special," she said like she hated me,
then went back to her bed.

     I
held my cheek, feeling degraded. No one had ever slapped me like that before.

     The
next morning, I helped Selima and Twila make a large breakfast of scrambled
eggs, toast, bacon, sausage, and fruit. Breakfast was easy for me. Only
Dunningham and Colden were eating. Doyle was gone.

     Once
again we served them and then stood off to the side. Dunningham left the table
to take a call, and Selima told me to clear the table. As I reached for
Colden's plate, he grabbed my arm, pulling me close to him.

     "You
work in the kitchen,” he whispered. “I need you to grab a knife for you and a
knife for me. I would do it myself, but they're watching me like a hawk. We
need to get out of here."

     Before
I could ask him why, Selima came back and yelled at me for taking too long.
Colden left the dining room and retreated to the guest room.

* * *

     That
afternoon as we washed the lunch dishes, Hesper stuck her head in the kitchen.
"You have guests," she said bitterly, and we all knew she was talking
to me.

     I
didn't care how she felt. I was still angry about her slapping me. I put the
plate I was holding in the dishwasher and went out to the sitting room. Keira
and Chase sat on the couch, speaking to Dunningham. Their eyes lit up when they
saw me, and I realized how much I loved them.

     "Ahh,
there she is. I was just talking to your friends about this predicament with
the Foragers," Dunningham said.

     I
nodded, just wishing he'd leave. Why was he so happy about my friends coming?
He had even sent a car for them. An awkward silence hung in the air.

     "Well,
I'll leave you young Grims alone to talk. You may go out back if you wish."
Dunningham gestured to the French doors.

     We
did that. I didn't want Dunningham or anybody else in that house to hear what I
had to say.

     "Are
you okay?" Keira asked once we were outside. I shook my head and she
hugged me. "I'm sorry, Nay, I know this sucks."

     Chase
looked down at the ground. "I know this is hard for you. But I'd rather
you be here than dead. I don't think I could live with that."

     I
was on the verge of crying, but I willed myself not to. "Let's sit over
there," I said, pointing to a bench in the garden. The bench was concrete
with a mosaic-tile design on the seat. "I'm worried. I think something
really, really bad is going to happen in Nowhere."

     "What?"
Chase asked.

     I
looked around to make double-sure we were alone. "I don't think he's going
to give Colden those lifestones. If he was, he would have done it yesterday,
sent Colden on his way, and then the doctors would be here already."

     Keira
sighed. "That's true. That's really messed up. People are in pain, waiting
for that medical care. Evon, who lives next door to us, has an arrow sticking
out of his chest. He's just lying in bed in pain. Dunningham needs to do
whatever he has to do to get help for our people."

     The
fact that he was stalling showed just how little he actually cared for his
people.

     "Also,
earlier this morning Colden told me to get knives for us from the kitchen. I
didn't get a chance to ask him why, but what would make him say something like
that?" I asked.

     The
door opened and Hesper stepped out. "Ms. Keira. Mr. Dunningham would like
to see you."

     Keira
frowned. "Why does he want to see me?"

     Hesper
shrugged. "I have no idea."

      Keira
rose slowly and turned toward the house. "I'll be back, I guess."

     Chase
looked out at Dunningham's gigantic back yard. "So, what's the deal with
you and Colden?"

     "There
is no deal. He explained a lot of things to me in the Outskirts and walked me
back and forth between there and the wall, but that's it. We really don't get
along at all."

     "Huh,"
Chase said as if he didn't believe me. "So, I guess this is the part where
you secretly fall in love with the moody stranger who you've been at odds
with."

     I
looked at him from the corner of my eye. "I don't secretly love him. I
don't love him at all. I can't stand him actually. What's your problem?"

     "What
was the deal with that Hunter guy?" Chase demanded.

     I
tossed my hair over my shoulder and focused on a strange-looking plant I'd
never seen before. "There was no deal with him either. He was a nice guy,
but he lives there and I live here. We can't be."