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It had become more apparent than ever that I needed to ingratiate myself to the Loths if I meant to survive.
I fully grasped how swift and brutal the Loths’ punishments could be. Kimber had told me that Gacy had been fed to the King for accidentally tossing a cowpie onto Bly’s foot, and I had been beaten for leaving Alma alone in an environment she kept insisting was safe. I had also come to understand why Avril had made so many mistakes.
After weeks of licking plates clean for sustenance, and working myself to the bone from dawn until into the night, and sleeping in straw in a cold stable, while also taking the occasional beating or backhand, my body was in worse shape than ever before.
All of my joints hurt, weakening my grip, and my skin was blistered and torn, which lead to dropping things with increasing frequency. The brand was still painful at times, slowing my movements, and the constant hunger left me in a fog. Sometimes, I wouldn’t even notice right away when Elmyra or Tallulah were talking to me.
Since my work performance could no longer be counted on to earn favor with the Loths, I had to hope that Elmyra and Waylon would be fond enough of me to spare me from the worst punishments. At least until Kimber and I figured out a way to escape.
A few afternoons after the King had killed Gacy, I found Elmyra relaxing in the sitting room for once, working on a cross stitch. I had only just dusted the room the day before, so I grabbed a broom and went in under the guise of sweeping. She didn’t look up from her stitching, and I floundered to find a way to start a conversation with her.
There were pictures all over the walls, old photographs and paintings of family members. What better way to cozy up to Elmyra than pretending to value her family legacy as much as she did?
“Who is that?” I asked, and when she looked up, I pointed at an old sepia colored photograph of a man with a handlebar moustache and top hat.
“Oh, that’s my grandfather, Waylon Weargham,” she said, smiling at the pleasant interruption. “As the Master of Ceremony for the Wonderful Wearghams, he was an amazing showman and kept the family together, even when business was winding down.”
“He must’ve been very special to you if you named Waylon after him,” I commented.
“He was.” Elmyra set aside her cross stitch, and she leaned on the arm of her chair as she eyed me up. “And you’ve been growing special to my Waylon, haven’t you? I’ve noticed how long he takes to escort you to your room at night.”
Every evening, when he walked me back to the stable, he talked to me about his day. I mostly just listened, but I knew better than to do anything that would upset him.
“He is kind to me, and I’ve tried to be kind in return. Did I do something wrong?”
“On the contrary,” she said. “You’ve excelled in your position since Avril’s absence, and you’ve made life on the ranch better for the family. Aside from a few mistakes here and there, you’ve been a welcome addition.”
“Thank you, Elmyra. It means so much to me to know that you feel that way,” I said and turned my attention back to sweeping.
“Have you ever birthed a baby?” Elmyra asked.
I looked back at her in bewilderment and growing terror. “I-I have never been pregnant.”
She laughed warmly at that. “No, of course, you haven’t. You’re much too young for that sort of thing. I meant, have you ever assisted in any births? My daughter Mercy is growing closer to her due date, and I was hoping to have more experienced hands on deck, aside from myself and Alma.”
I smiled in relief and shook my head. “No, I haven’t ever even really known any pregnant women. I was my mother’s only child.”
“Hmm.” She scowled a bit at that, likely judging my mother for not spawning a lineage the way that Elmyra had. “You and Tallulah will have to do then. You can bring water and towels as good as anyone I suppose, and Mercy won’t be the first woman to give birth in this home.”
“I will do my best,” I assured her, and this time, I did mean it. While I wasn’t a fan of any of the Loths, Mercy’s unborn baby certainly shouldn’t be punished for their failings. “It must be such an exciting time for you all.”
“Another grandbaby is always a joyous occasion,” Elmyra agreed, but she didn’t sound like she really meant it.
“Is… the father excited?” I asked carefully, since I realized that I had no idea who the baby’s father might be.
Elmyra let out a humorless laugh. “Your guess is as good as mine on that one.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She looked over at me, as if suddenly aware that she was sharing family secrets with the servants, but then she sighed. “There’s no one for you to gossip with, so it doesn’t matter what I say to you. We don’t know who the father of Mercy’s baby is. She won’t tell us.”
The puzzlement must’ve been written all over my face, because Elmyra went on, “You’re thinking what I did. Surely, there can’t be that many options? Not her brothers, certainly, and not the house boy. Wyatt castrated Buddy a long time ago. Men come to trade with us, but Mercy never meets with them. She sometimes visits the zombies, but I don’t know that would work”
Then she forced a smile. “It doesn’t matter, I suppose. The baby will be here soon, and he or she will be a Loth. That’s all that counts.”
“Of course,” I agreed, and went back to sweeping the room, so that Elmyra would not think me lazy.
“What do you think about moving into the house?” Elmyra asked.
