New Digs

Tom was not incarcerated in the travel container long before it was opened again, and for the third time in a row, it was to yet a different person. Another female, a brassy colored blonde haired woman possibly in her thirties. Tom got the immediate impression in her youth she might have been a stellar beauty but life had taken its toll on her, lines etched into her face. Her attire was suggestive of the help.

Wherever here was, it resembled more of a residential bathroom than commercial washroom. When the woman reached for him, he spotted an odd tattoo of circular design on her wrist. Like the woman herself, it was faded and worn.

Circling her hand around him, she picked him up.

“I’m Tom,” he blurted.

“My name is Natalya,” she introduced, voice heavily accented, rolling him over in her hand and scrubbing thoroughly his back with the warm washcloth.

The force she used was firm, borderline rough. “Can you tell me what is going on here, please? Natalya?” he inquired, skin glowing pinkly.

“Hush now,” she cautioned, flipping him onto his back and cleaning his front.

“Anything you can tell me, I would be most appreciative,” he voice, flashing her his smile.

“You should be quiet,” she replied in a hushed tone, eyes darting toward the door off to her left.

Rolling his head to the side, he looked in the same direction. He got the very definite impression Natalya was afraid. Was it of Anastasia? Why? “It’s okay,” he replied, trying to sound reassuring.

Natalya half snorted, “You know nothing little one,” she condemned, placing him down onto a towel atop the counter. Folding the thick material over him, she carefully patted him dry.

“Tell me then, help me understand,” he invited once she had finished.

Without responding, she took him in her hand and exited the bathroom into a short hall. Confined in her hand, he didn’t get a chance to scope out the hallway before they were in what appeared to be a bedroom of sorts. The singular thing that captivated his attention in the room was the large glass aquarium situated on the top of a long dresser along one of the walls.

Crossing the floor to the dresser, Natalya deposited him gently inside the glass enclosure.

Getting quickly to his feet, “Natalya,” he called out but the woman was already several strides away from him. Frowning, he turned his attention to the interior of his new transparent holding cell. The sand under his feet was fine grain, a black colored substrate one might expect to find as a layer inside a fish tank. At the end away from him sat a small house, akin a child’s toy or decoration for a model train enthusiast. The scale seemed appropriate for his size. Beside the little house, he spied two plain ceramic dishes, one with water, the other an assortment of fruits, nuts, and a mix of seeds.

Walking over, “What am I, a budgie? Hamster?” he verbalized, shaking his head. Seeing the food however caused his stomach to rumble. He was Famished. Despite all the cloak and dagger of late, he felt pretty confident his captors might not need to doctor the food, so he sat at the edge of the dish, grabbing an unshelled sunflower seed and biting into it like an apple.

Chewing noisily, he turned to look over his shoulder through the glass and back toward the door, “Don’t think because I’m eating I’m not still unhappy about this new situation,” he declared to the now empty room, shaking the half consumed seed as if to punctuate his point.

Remaining at the food dish, he ate his fill, stopping sort of gorging himself. He hadn’t realized how famished he had been, devouring the rest of the seed and then a portion of a dehydrated cranberry.

Finished eating, he got back to his feet, circling around to the front of the little structure, finding an opening into the ‘house’ but no door per se. Stepping inside, it was obvious the house was a shell on top of the sand. Inside the little house, in the far corner was a small hand-carved doll’s bed with a little patch of cloth draped over it serving as a blanket. In the opposite corner sat a plastic container about the size of a Rubbermaid garbage can to him, several pieces of torn up tissue paper next to it. Pointing a finger at the plastic container, “Potty, got it,” he said. While definitely not a five star accommodation, it was at the very least functional.

Exiting the small house, he walked the perimeter of his cage. Kneeling down, he scoop up a handful of the black sand. He estimated the walls were more than four times his height. The only conceivable way he could envision getting up and over the top, given the limited resources in the environment, was if he could push enough sand into one of the corners. There might be enough lining the floor of the aquarium but it would be a Herculean task. Unsure of when Natalya or some other person might return, he did not want to start piling up the sand and tip his hand yet lest his captors remove it. For the moment, he would play along.

Tapping a pensive finger against the thick plate of transparent material separating him from freedom, “People in glass houses,” he murmured, grinning at his own joke.

Turning his attention to the other side of the glass, he scanned the room. While expansive, even by normal sized standards, it was nothing fancy. Gigantic bed with a colorful floral patterned duvet cover and matching pillows, couple of night tables each with a lamp. Along the longer access wall across from him was a set of folding louvered doors he guessed belonged to a closet. Dove gray carpet on the floor, walls a neutral beige. A couple of framed paintings on the wall. The vibe he got was guest room.