6: Amber's Challenge

Amber was sleeping soundly, still buried in the euphoria and aftermath of her enjoyed break from housemaid work.

While she was sleeping, a yawning Isis and Rhea entered the dining room and headed straight for the table, expecting their regular cups of coffee. There, their drowsy looks transformed into one of surprise as they encountered an empty table without their regular cups of coffee greeting them.

“Mother, no coffee?” Rhea whined.

“This is why I keep my maids with me.” Isis fumed. “Only a couple of days break and she has gotten lazy.”

“Mother, please do something.” Rhea groaned, stormed to a chair, flopped down, and folded her arms as she took on a grumpy look.

At that moment, Amber rushed into the dining, still clad in her night dress and looking disheveled from her panicky wake in her sudden realization that she had broken the coffee rule.

“I am so sorry I woke up late.” She both apologized and explained hastily even as she earned scowls from them. “I’ll get your cups of coffee.” She added, still in a bid to placate them.

“As in, you want to start making it now?” Isis asked ominously.

“Yes madam. I am very sorry.”

Amber’s heart was in her mouth at the threatening look Isis was giving her.

“On your knees,” Isis said quietly but Amber could feel the steel in her voice.

“Madam…”

“Now!” Isis snapped and Amber obeyed.

“Hands high up in the air, eyes closed.” Isis went on and Amber obeyed, lifting both her hands straight up and shutting her eyes. In a small funny way, Amber felt some relief from closing her eyes and it came from being able to escape Isis’s cold look that unnerved her terribly and Rhea’s sneering face.

“Good.” She heard Isis say. “There, you will remain until I release you.”

Amber wasn’t finding anything funny now. She wished she could turn back the hands of time and correct her mistake so that she wouldn’t be in the situation she was currently in.

“You brought this on yourself.” She heard Rhea say, her voice like roughened hands, rubbing pain in.

“Darling, come let’s go get our baths,” Isis said to Rhea. “I’ll make food. Some people think that if they don’t do anything around here, we won’t survive.”

Amber knew that the “some people” Isis mentioned referred to her. She knew that one way or the other, Isis was misunderstanding her but she also knew better than to try and convince Isis, so she remained silent.

Rhea rose and approached her mother. As they started to leave together, Amber’s voice floated to them, small and shaky.

“Madam, I won’t do it again I promise. Please pardon me.” She pleaded.

Isis and Rhea paused to give her their attention.

“Try the pity nonsense on another,” Isis responded irritably and Amber spoke with her head down, making a last attempt at a plea for mercy.

“I won’t do it again. I swear I won’t. Please, please.” She begged but it did not work because Isis became more infuriated.

“One more word and I swear, you will be here longer than I currently intend.” She threatened and Amber decided it was wise not to aggravate her further by pushing her luck.

“How, how long am I staying like this madam?” she asked, curious about how long she was expected to remain in such an uncomfortable position that was already starting to hurt her knees.

“As long as I want,” Isis answered with a note of finality. “This will teach you to sit up.”

Amber grew still, face ashen at the reply and Rhea began to laugh. Amber began to sob from self-pity.

“Better stop that,” Rhea said cruelly. “It’s a strength drainer.”

Amber heard their footsteps as they walked away, leaving her in her tears. She cried only for a few seconds before mentally advising herself to stop because it only made her miserable.

Instead, she found a means of survival. She would drop her tired hands for a while and at the sound of footsteps, raise them back. Unfortunately, the third time she did it, she wasn’t fast enough and heard Rhea’s voice.

“Mother,” Rhea called. “Amber is cheating.”

By now Amber was back in her position of punishment and she heard Isis’s voice from somewhere inside the house.

“Watch her and let me know if she dares to try that again.”

“Okay, mother,” Rhea replied and chortled.

Amber had no choice but to remain in position with Rhea’s eagle eyes watching her as minutes turned into an hour by which time she was sweating, trembling, and sobbing pitifully while Rhea occasionally laughed at her. Amber wondered if the girl would ever grow weary of mocking her.

Amber started to hear footsteps that were unmistakably Isis’s since Rhea was still there, watching her. She then began to whimper pleas for mercy.

“You’re released.” She heard Isis say, allowing her body to crumble to the floor, all the strength drained from her. She opened her eyes and saw Isis and Rhea staring down at her, their faces unreadable. Mercifully, they walked away and Amber’s eyes fell shut from weakness.

It was minutes before she recovered from the punishment. Then she rose to carry on with the rest of the day because life had to go on. And she was grateful that they had left her alone to recover.

Later in the evening, as shadows descended, the clouds darkened with the promise of an inevitable heavy downpour of rain. At the waterfront before Isis’s home, Amber had just finished with some dirty dishes and was packing up like time was running out.

She put the basin of clean dishes in the tray, lifted it onto her head, and headed for the house, forgetting an ornate-looking bowl behind. It sat there, forgotten atop a fairly large stone that was immensely broader at the top than at the bottom.

Amber hurried to the main door of Isis’s house amidst the heavy waves of wind that had started causing all things that were plants to sway to its rhythm. A few hours later at about eight noon, she was inside the kitchen kneeling before a cabinet attached to a counter. She opened the cabinet amidst the sounds of roaring thunder and pouring rain outside.

Irish potatoes were cooking in a pot on the stove. The cabinet Amber opened was full of different dishes arranged according to type on wooden rackets. Amber was currently passing her finger across the bowl racket, her mind fixed on finding one in particular.

“Where is that bowl?” she quietly wondered. And then she paused for a moment to think about where it could be but remembering what she had on fire, she pushed her thinking aside and closed the cabinet before rising to approach the stove where she grabbed a small kitchen towel and opened the pot.

Steam rose to greet her and she noticed that the potatoes looked edible enough with the water starting to dry off. She laid down the cover of the pot and drew close a basin and sieve. At that point, she heard Isis’s voice calling from inside the dining room.

“Hurry up, we’re starving.”

Rhea’s voice followed her mother’s. “What’s taking her so long?” she complained.

“Hold on madam,” Amber called out. “I’ll soon be there.”

Amber paced back and forth, hugging herself in a new wave of panic, the feeling giving her some cold that wasn’t coming from the cold weather resulting from the rain outside. Instead, it was coming from thoughts about the bowl she was looking for.

“Mother, I am in trouble.” She murmured not daring to entertain the reality that Isis’s favorite bowl had gone missing. Because she knew that if it was, she had no choice but to brace herself for another bout of life’s pain… to again be pricked by thorns.