In the clammy, dark basement at Rock’s house, Seth was lying on the cement floor. His sunburn had faded since he’d been locked down there, but the blisters had popped, and his legs and arms were peppered with open wounds. Seth finished the food Rock had given him on the second day, and he was so hungry that his stomach was twisted in knots. He rubbed his belly and kept licking his fingers and dipping them into the empty pretzel bag, hoping to find a crumb. He was about to fall asleep again when the basement door was flung open, and the light from the upper floor blinded him. Seth looked up at Rock’s large silhouette in the doorway at the top of the stairs. He was scared of Rock—even more scared than he was of John William.
“Get your ass up here, boy!” Rock commanded.
Seth began to climb the steps. “What did I do?” he asked tearfully.
“You didn’t do nothin’. It’s what you’re gonna do,” Rock stated with certainty.
Seth followed Rock into the living room. He had gone to the bathroom in his clothes while he was stuck in the basement, and the smell offended Rock. “You smell like shit, boy!”
Seth shrank away, afraid that Rock would hit him. “Come closer. I ain’t gonna hurt you,” Rock assured.
Seth stepped toward the sofa and spotted a discarded can of Coke on the floor. He eyed it with desire, thinking about the sugary liquid sliding down his dry throat. Rock followed his gaze.
“Go ahead. You can have it,” he told Seth.
Seth moved toward the sofa. He wanted to run, but he was just too weak. He lifted the can and guzzled the warm, flat contents. After he drank every drop, he looked back at Rock.
“First things first. Let’s go to the kitchen and get you a sandwich. Then you need to take a bath, ’cause I can’t stand bein’ in the same room with ya,” Rock told him.
When Rock put the sandwich in front of Seth, he groaned. His limbs were quivering as he reached for the food he had longed for. When he was done eating, he sucked every finger. He wished he could have another, but knew better than to ask. Rock walked over to the sink and filled a glass with water. Seth drank the water without taking a breath.
“Ya never learnt no table manners, did ya?”
Seth shook his head. He didn’t know what table manners were. The kids at school teased him that he ate like a pig, and he figured that Rock must be saying the same thing but in grown-up talk.
“Well, never mind that. Let’s go upstairs and get you a bath. I need you to be really quiet. Thelma is sleeping off a four-day binge, and she might kill you if you wake her up,” Rock warned.
In the bathroom, Seth stared at Rock. “Who the hell are you lookin’ at, boy? Run the water and get your ass in the tub. I’ll be back as soon as I can find something for ya to wear. Wash every inch, and be sure to scrub that dirt out from under your fingernails. Looks like you’ve been diggin’ in your ass for gold,” he criticized.
Seth blushed with embarrassment. He couldn’t wait to get into the water and wash himself from head to toe. It had been almost two weeks since the last time he washed, and even then, Thelma only let him “sponge bathe” in the sink.
Rock came back into the bathroom about twenty minutes later. Seth was sitting in the tub surrounded by black water. “Ew, see now? That’s just plain ol’ nasty, boy. Get yourself outta there. Here, use this towel,” he told him, grossed out by the filth Seth left in the tub.
“Come on,” Rock said, leading him into a small bedroom across the hall.
On the bed was a semi clean pair of jeans and the T-shirt that Seth had been wearing when Rock took him and Maggie away from the house where Max and Cali had died.
“Get dressed and come downstairs.” Rock turned back to him from the doorway. “Hurry up and be quiet,” Rock instructed.
Seth finished dressing. He was trembling at the thought of Rock putting him outside again on the dog chain. The sunburn had been painful, and his skin was still raw. As he descended the steps, he thought, Aggie, please help me. I don’t want to be here alone anymore.