CHAPTER NINE: LIKE MOTHER, LIKE SON?
THIRD PERSON'S POV
As soon as Kenton pulled out of the drive way, the two waitresses made their way upstairs_ to Samantha's (Kenton's mother) room. She was fast asleep when they got there and they weren't sure if she'd appreciate them waking her up.
It took them six full minutes to make a move; it got them into Samantha's bad books.
"Who de hell are ye people and where de hell is mei son?" she scowls "James? James? James?" she calls out for her son, slipping out of bed.
"Excuse us ma'am, but we're the substitute nurses your son must've told you about." With her head kept held down, M. Stevens enlightens Samantha.
As sassy as ever, the old woman questions, "Ye mean to tell me 'at James hired ye ordinary, boring and plain gurls to be me nurses?" and wraps it up with a mocking chuckle.
"Precisely." M. Smith confirms
"Getut." The old woman's words, or rather word before she turned on her heel and left them in her room.
She wasn't particularly pleased with her son at that moment. As desperate as she knew her son was in getting her a sub nurse, she never thought that he'd deign to that level; it wasn't very attractive in her perception.
Samantha Gwendolyn Addams is not a woman of class. She stands her ground_ proud, not sound. For a woman in her late sixties, she is a bit ahead her age, maybe a little behind it. It's safe to say that she is 'not' of her age.
Like her son, she is a woman of her tastes, or rather preferences in her case, for 'taste' is a bit overrated_ a word_ when she is the topic at hand.
Females, in general, aren't her favourite people, which is quite hilarious considering the fact that she is_ indeed_ one of them. She says that women are the most incompetent, dramatic and nosy creatures on the planet_ herself excluded of course.
The old, gentlemanly lady despises Help. Yes, the help. Employees to be precise. She says she is as fit as a horse and therefore she doesn't need "stupid and poor" people cleaning after her all the time.
She cleans her house, does her laundry and takes care of her garden. When she's a little overworked_ in its best word, exhausted? Simple. She hires a cleaning agency; once they've done her chores they leave.
Crowds are amongst the list.
One other thing she hates is dependent people. She detests them for reasons that aren't known.
Being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer is the worst thing that has happened to her. That meant that: for the first time in forever, she would need someone's help and she couldn't do anything about it. She knew, for one, that she couldn't stay in a hospital owing to her dislike of crowds.
Her condition demanded her to have a personal nurse_ a female nurse. It isn't a mistake that she went for someone like Sarita. Someone who was careless and would bunk work from time to time_ that bought her as much time as she could possibly get with herself.
Having these two ridiculous girls over, as her nurses was completely that_ ridiculous.
"You're quite the genius, aren't you M.?" one of the Ms' complimented the other as soon as they were left alone in the not-so-luxurious room.
They both shared an evil smile and got walked out of the room.
"Mrs. Kenton, may you please forgive us for invading your privacy?" in unison, they uttered.
One other thing the old woman loved was power. Power and dominance; they'd just been offered to her on a silver platter.
"Forgiveness is yearned." ~Mrs. Grinch. "and I am not Mrs. Kenton."
"We are at your disposal ma'am" with sudden utmost interest in the ground, M. Smith faintly said.
"Very well." Samantha grinned, her teeth_ yellowish, loose and decayed. "Leave mei home ASAP." With that, blood drained from the Ms' faces and they exchanged glances at that instant.
"Okay ma'am. Goodnight then." ~M. Stevens
On their way out, they ran into a furious Fierce and she just brushed her way past them without even sparing them a glance, then ran up the stairs.
It didn't take long until hush, but clear voices were heard coming from the old lady's room. The brunettes decided to stay behind and eavesdrop…
"I'm sick and tired of the games your son has been playing with me." Fierce let out calmly.
"And why yare ye telling mei all o-dis' huh!?" Samantha yelled back. "Ye think 'e listens to mei? Ye know damn well dat I told 'im to free ye six years ago. Fore 'e even held yer family 'ostage."
Silence reigned for a moment or so; Fierce chuckled and let out a long sigh.
"Let me rephrase then." With the same calmness, she said. "Samantha, you will free my family from your son and you will make sure that he doesn't marry me."
"Why, pray, would I do dat?" Samantha inquired, with an amused tone.
The M.s exchanged glances and pressed their ears against the door again. Finding out later that their glance exchange had cost them a few words.
"_ him about his true identity, would you?"
As the two girls had missed the first part of her sentence, they pressed their ears harder against the door.
"Ionno what ye talkin' 'bout, yeng lady." Samantha deadpanned
Fierce chuckles a little and, once again, silence reigns.
"I'm a geneticist, you do know that, right?" Fierce settles for a rhetorical question, "There are certain traits your so-called 'offspring' has to show, yet he doesn't, so I got curious and ran a few tests and you can only guess what I found out."
"I 'ear ye, and I 'ope you remember dat curiosity killed a cat." Silence. "And I feel de cat in ye, Fierce, I can only 'ope dat we don't lose ye in all dis."
"Make sure he gives me what's mine."
Fierce says before footsteps are heard approaching the door. Then they subdue.
"Here's a piece of advice before you do something stupid, old woman: Remember I'm not dumb."
With those words, she opened the door and brushed past the two girls that were obviously eavesdropping.
They trailed silently behind her and followed her out_ where she offered them a ride home; they did not decline.
As soon as she had their street address, Fierce succeeded in ignoring the brunettes on their ride home. She shared four words before dropping them off: 'Be careful with me'.
Then after that, she revved her engine and slid her window open then said, "We choose what we hear and how we hear it, girls. Especially if we're not supposed to hear it." Then she winked at them and with those words, she drove off.
Only one of the girls seemed a bit shaken. The other one_ on the other hand_ was as cool as a cucumber.
~~~~'~~~~'~~~~
"What do we do now?" Mariam questions Merida as they push the door of their flat open.
In response of her question, she receives a death-glare from Merida and instantly seals her lips until after they've gotten inside and locked the door.
"I'm waiting…"
"What for, exactly?" An annoyed Merida inquires_ coldly.
"We're just going to sit here and pretend that Fierce hasn't threatened us, aren't we Merida."
Silence
"I thought so." With her eyes glooming in disappointment, Mariam gives up.
"We have a lot of things to worry about, Mariam. Fierce's threat is just a tip of the iceberg," Merida pointed out, "Tell me something. Has Kenton paid for he's done to me?" she continued to stare at Mariam. "Huh?"
"No."
"At least you're aware of that. Tell me something else: do you have any idea of how we'll get a one-on-one with him without raising unnecessary attention, Mariam?" Merida continued not to take her gaze off Mariam.
"No."
"Fair enough. Now tell me something, Mariam, why should I give a fuck about a clearly, harmless Fierce?"
Mariam gulped and responded, "I thought she would be of great use if she were on our team. We could lure her in and promise to aid her in liberating her family from his clutches if she helps us get close to him."
"No shit, Sherlock. Thought or think, Mariam?" Mariam tried to answer, but was immediately cut off by Merida, "Don't answer that. We're already as close as we can possibly be with him; we won't be needing Fierce for that. You've finally observed what I've been trying to make you see since we jumped off that car_ she'd make an excellent minion." Merida grinned at the thought.
"Now we attack. That's the answer to your question, Mariam." Merida left the kitchen with those words.
Mariam, on the contrary, took great interest in the wall. She seemed to find eternal peace in staring into its nothingness and losing herself in deep thought.
~~~~'~~~~'~~~~
MASTER VILE'S P.O.V.
It's so funny_ the things that can happen in five years. They're so big, yet so small. I've often heard the question: WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN FIVE YEARS?
I've also heard a lot of people fail to answer it correctly, one_ too many times.
The simplest and most correct answer to that question is: THE FUTURE. That is where we will all be in five years.
The future entails a lot of different things for every single one of us; however, it remains uniform. There will always be death, life, growth, pain, setbacks and disappointment.
It is safe to say that the only thing that doesn't happen in five years is change.
Take a trip down the memory lane and try recalling the you that YOU were five years ago.
You have definitely changed, but that's not how long it took for you to change. It doesn't take five years for a Homo sapien to change. A nano-second is all it takes for you to 'change'. That is why we all call the day before 'today', 'yesterday'. It is because we have all died, lived, grown, been in pain, had setbacks, been disappointed… we have all changed since then and it is all in the past...
Today we're new people with old memories and priorities. It is 'to-day', for there's more for us 'to' do, that we've failed 'to' do in the yesterday.
The same thing goes for our goals.
It didn't take me five years to be where I am today. I grew with every passing minute, hence there's been growth. My old foolish self, died; hence death. A new version of me birthed, hence life; Peter failed to keep Anne away, which pained me. Time kept on elapsing with no warning; it has been a major setback. I have been aging ungraciously_ which disappoints me.
Now, I'm a thousand steps ahead of everyone who thinks they're a step ahead of everyone else.
It's fun when you play a game with people who don't even know that you exist; people who have no idea that they're playing, because with time, they all become your pawns.
They become your minions and they're all at your disposal without them knowing.
The most important piece of my puzzle is Merida; my whole world revolves around her…
~~~~'~~~~'~~~~
"Have you found some dirt on that annoying journalist?"
I am sick and tired of that Montgomery girl. Losing her job failed to keep her of our trail. She's just a little curious kitten and if she doesn't stop sticking her nose in my business, she'll share the same fate with cats.
"No, not really sir-" He quickly responds and abruptly falls silent.
"My patience grows thin, Peter; I'm surprised that you haven't turned my patience into treasured gold, yet. Perhaps you need a reminder that your mother's life depends on it?"
My words are followed by yet, another deafening silence.
Silence
"I'll silence her, sir" Finally, he speaks
"Ah! He speaks. Sweet…" dripping in sarcasm, I cheer.
"I hope your passport is ready and up to date. Be in London in four days. Tell daddy you found a new job there or cook up any lie you can afford. I'm in need of your services. You've been off-duty for way too long…"
"Your wish is my command, sir." Having received those words, I hang up.