On inspection, the items looked safe. I opened a jar of apricots and took a whiff. The seal had made a tiny poof sound, indicating that it had been sealed adequately with the paraffin their mother had used. The apricots smelled sweet.
“Get three bowls and spoons,” I said, hoping there would be some clean enough to use. I’d seen some dishes in one of the lower cupboards. Frances brought the bowls over and found some clean utensils. Before even looking over the other three jars, I spooned up an equal portion for each bowl, and we ate. Delicious.
But two growing boys needed more than a small bowl of apricots. I checked the other bowls to find beets, peas, and applesauce. I figured the boys would be happy with the last jar, so I opened it first. Surprisingly, the boys and I were hungry enough to eat some of each one of the jars. In fact, by the time we were finished, we’d emptied them all.
Afterwards, we rinsed out our bowls, then filled them with water. The tap seemed to supply decent-tasting water. We each drank most of a bowlful.
I washed all the empty jars and placed them neatly on the sink. I suppose if the father didn’t come soon, I’d feel obliged to wash the rests of the dishes, but the whole shack gave me shivers of distaste. I really didn’t want to stay inside any longer than I needed to.
“Let’s go see how Frey is doing,” I suggested, and they cheered. Apparently, they were just as eager to leave the squalor as I was. We walked out into the sunshine and fresh air. It was great to breathe air that didn’t smell like damp rot or worse.
Although the property where their dwelling was located wasn’t filled with rubbish, it certainly wasn’t attractive. Weeds grew here and there, barbed and wicked. I think one of the bushes was poison hemlock, not a good thing to have near two curious little boys.