Interrogation Inter Alia

LIVING THE DICESTYLE - Chapter Three

After lunch Mr. Ademetos returned to his den and I set about the task of vacuuming apartment. His enigmatic answers to my questions about his secret salad dressing puzzled me almost as much as the taste of it that still lingered in my mouth. It was a highly unusual taste and yet strangely familiar at the same time; salty, but not exactly like salt and sweet, but not sugary. I pushed the vacuum to and fro as my thoughts drifted from the dressing to the nearby sofa.

I stared at the place under the sofa where the mystery dice had rolled. The possibility it might be sitting there with a six face up loomed large in my thoughts. If it was a six, Mr. Ademetos expected me to be completely nude for each of the next four days I came to do his housework and any other chores he needed done. As I slowly worked the vacuum out of the lounge room and down the hall toward the bedrooms, my body tingled to the thoughts that danced provocatively in my mind.

The second bedroom had a dusty smell about it as if it hadn�t been used in years. I opened a window to let in the fresh afternoon autumn air and continued vacuuming. Once done I went across the hall to the master bedroom. I felt slightly apprehensive when I turned the doorknob. A bedroom, to me, is a very private place and even though I knew I was in there simply to clean, I still felt a little bit like a trespasser.

Mr. Ademetos�s bedroom was large and spacious. It was also impeccably clean but what immediately caught my eye was the bedspread. The leopard skin faux fur stood out like a beacon in the otherwise drab room. The thought that Mr. Ademetos might have such a wildly exotic sense of style in his bedroom surprised me a little, even if that style was limited to just one bed cover.

�Ingrid!�

My heart leapt at the sound of Mr. Ademetos�s voice behind me.

�Yes?� I called back over the noise of the vacuum.

�Are you nearly finished?�

�Yes; just this room and your den to go,� I replied.

�Don�t worry about cleaning my den today; that can wait until tomorrow. But once you�re finished in here, I�d like you to run an errand for me. OK?�

�Yes; sure,� I smiled back.

-=0=-

I waited silently in the doorway of Mr. Ademetos�s den while he spoke with somebody on the phone. He swiveled around on his chair, smiled at me, placed his hand over the mouthpiece and said, �I won�t be a minute,� to me and then to his caller, �Can you hold a sec.�

Mr. Ademetos placed the receiver down on his desk and walked over to me.

�How�s it all going?� he asked.

�Fine,� I replied. �I think I�ve done everything that was on your list.�

�Good,� he said.

As he ushered me from his den Mr. Ademetos placed his arm casually around my shoulder to walk me to the kitchen. My shoulders involuntarily tensed to his touch because even though the gesture seemed innocent enough; I just felt it was uncharacteristic for him. But, I didn�t say anything.

Mr. Ademetos reached into the dishwasher and picked out the empty glass jar he used to store his special salad dressing. �Here,� he said when he handed it to me. �I want you to take this over to Uncle Arthur next door and tell him I need some of his seeds. He�ll know what you mean.�

I blinked at the odd request but happily agreed.

-=0=-

Unlike the overgrown backyard of Mr. Ademetos�s building, Uncle Arthur�s yard and garden was a picture of quaint cottage beauty. �Uncle Arthur,� I called out across the fence that divided our yards. It always felt a little strange to call our neighbor Uncle Arthur. He wasn�t Mr. Ademetos�s uncle and he certainly wasn�t mine! But, that�s what everybody in the neighborhood called him and, being the kindly elderly gentleman he was, it suited him.

�Aye, lassie?� Uncle Arthur stepped out of the glasshouse at the back of his yard.

His accent was often unintelligible to me but whatever he said after that surely meant he�d invited me over. A wave of his arm confirmed this.

�You�re garden is looking lovely,� I said.

Uncle Arthur stood straight, placed his thumbs in the braces that held up his baggy trousers, and then grumbled for several minutes about something. I think it was about bugs eating his radishes, but I wasn�t certain. Despite his abrasive demeanor, he seemed happy nonetheless.

�So, what can I do for ya, lovely lady?� Uncle Arthur then grinned broadly.

No matter how many times I�ve seen Uncle Arthur�s teeth, they always made me cringe slightly. Those he still had left were darkly stained with nicotine and the gold-crown topped one in the top front (the only one that wasn�t twisted in his gums) was set in a gum that was so far receded it looked like it might drop out at any moment.

�Mr. Ademetos sent me over; he asked me to ask you if he can have some of your seeds,� I said.

�Doesn�t he have enough of his own?� Uncle Arthur shook his head and laughed.

I smiled blankly. �Pardon me?�

�Nevermind lassie; give it here,� Uncle Arthur said. He held up the small glass jar to inspect it. �How much does he want?�

�Pardon me?�

�Of me seed, lassie! How much does he want?�

�I don�t know,� I shrugged. �He didn�t say.�

Uncle Arthur eyed me up and down and then asked, �What happened to your shoes?�

�Oh? Oh, that!� I looked down at my bare feet and wriggled my toes. I felt a slight rush of guilt at the lie I was about to tell. �I�m in high heels all week and I like my feet to get a bit of air at the weekends.�

�Do ya just?� Uncle Arthur grinned. �Well, don�t just stand there like a shag on a rock. Come in!�

I followed Uncle Arthur into his glasshouse; the earthen floor felt warm underfoot compared to the cold grass outside. �These are very beautiful!� I said.

�Orchids; they�re me favorite, but they�re not as beautiful as you, lassie!�

I blushed slightly at Uncle Arthur�s compliment and at the discreet wink he gave me. He had to be at least seventy years old; far too old, I thought, to be seriously flirting with me. �Thank you,� I smiled.

�So, do ya like Mr. A�s salad dressing then, do ya?�

�Um, yes; it�s very unusual, but it�s quite tasty,� I replied. �What�s in it?�

�Ya don�t know?�

�No?� I sensed Uncle Arthur wanted to tease me. I smiled brightly, blushed at the puzzlement of it all and asked again, �What?�

Uncle Arthur roared with laughter; his plump belly bounced under his grimy white singlet. �Aye! You Americans!� He shook his head and laughed some more to himself.

�What�s so funny?� I asked in an effort to laugh along with him.

�Naught,� he replied. �Let me fix ya up some of me own; back in a tic.�

Uncle Arthur disappeared into a room at the back of the glasshouse and closed its rickety old wooden door. I imagined his joke was just some peculiar British thing that went over my head and so put it out of my thoughts. I wandered around the benches of beautifully flowering orchids and quietly admired each of the spectacular blooms.

-=0=-

When Uncle Arthur finally emerged he appeared to be very flushed in the face, but he had a broad grin on his face.

�You really have quite a green thumb, Uncle Arthur,� I said. I nodded my head in the direction of all his beautiful flowers.

�Eh? Oh; yes,� he replied; absently. �Here; try some of my salad dressing and tell me what ya think?�

I took the glass jar from him and held it up to the sunlight that filtered in through the dirty glass panels of the glasshouse. There wasn�t much in the jar but what I could see of it appeared slightly different from Mr. Ademetos�s. The liquid seemed less viscous and its color was almost entirely clear except for a few dark grayish patches.

�Go on, lassie; taste it!�

The plastic cork of the cap twisted easily from the jar. I held the jar up to my nose and lightly sniffed the contents. The aroma was very similar but again; it was a scent I just couldn�t quite place.

�Not with ya finger!� Uncle Arthur said sternly. �Drink it straight from the bottle!�

I felt reluctant to raise the jar to my lips but did so on the insistence of Uncle Arthur so as not to offend him. Slowly, I raised the jar and went cross-eyed watching the contents momentarily cling to the insides before they slipped in one large lump straight into my mouth. It didn�t look like much in the bottle but it felt like I had a mouthful. My nose crinkled at the taste. It was more salty than Mr. Ademetos�s dressing and had a texture that felt slimy when it slid down my throat. After I swallowed its taste remained strong in my mouth and on my taste buds. I sucked a little to create some saliva to wash away the flavor but it remained like a film coating my tongue and the inside of my mouth.

�Well?� Uncle Arthur raised one of his bushy eyebrows and frowned.

�Um; it�s different,� was all I could think to say.

�Do ya like it?� Uncle Arthur�s face beamed expectantly.

I thought for a moment and then smiled, �Yes! It�s unusual but it�s very nice!�

�Aye; good! Tell Mr. A I�ll have more for him tomorrow.�

I passed the empty jar back to Uncle Arthur and bid him farewell until tomorrow.

-=0=-